Archive of Our Own

The ballroom was truly packed. I always knew that balls in the faerie world were extremely extravagant. Having grown up within the court and been raised among the nobles, it's not the first time I've come to a ball like this. However, unlike my other times in the great hall of Elfhame Palace, I no longer needed to hide with Taryn and watch the ball merely as a spectator, afraid that some drunken faerie would think I was a fun toy and bewitch me to dance until my feet bled with him.

This time, I'm in a completely different position. As seneschal of the High King, I have enough protection that any faerie will think twice before messing with me. And, thanks to Dain's geas, I cannot be bewitched. So now it's as if I'm finally free to not only observe, but enjoy the ball.

My eyes can't help but notice how truly beautiful the palace is inside. The ceiling of the hall is filled with flowers in various shades of pink and yellow. Even though it's past midnight, the light radiating from the large chandelier makes it seem like daytime inside the hall. The musicians don't stop playing for a single minute and perform various songs about the Great King Cardan.

Cardan.

I realize now that I've lost sight of him. This is a problem. As much as Cardan has been quite tame in these five months since his coronation, where I tricked him into becoming the Great King of the Fairy Kingdom, I can't help but think it's because he's forcibly under my control through his promise. However, nothing prevents him from plotting some action that I haven't yet given strict orders that he can't do and that will give me a huge headache to deal with later.

I cross the room in search of the big idiot I chose as king. I bump into some fairies along the way, but they can't do anything but look at me with expressions of anger or contempt when I touch them. I don't care, after all, I'm used to it. When you're a mortal seneschal, it seems inevitable that some members of the court will look at you that way.

The dancing crowd often blinds my vision, and I'm forced to change course twice before finding one where I can get a clearer view of what's ahead. My efforts, however, were completely unnecessary, because on the other side of the hall sits the High King on an armchair in the corner, surrounded by courtiers and some members of lesser courts.

His dark curls are slightly disheveled, as if he had just run his hand through his hair before placing the customarily crooked blood crown on his head. He wears a black doublet and a wine-colored linen shirt open to the beginning of his chest, trousers that are also black to the doublet, and heavy boots with pointed toes.

Irritatingly handsome.

A beauty so unreal that it makes anyone's eyes linger on the outline of his slightly pointed ears, his rosy lips, and his sharp eyes with irises as dark as a starless night. Irises, who seem to have noticed my presence, as they met mine, which brings a smug smile to Cardan's cheeky lips.

But they quickly shift their focus to pay attention to a courtesan who is beside him. A pixie with greenish skin and small purple wings. She wears a dress a little darker than the shade of her wings and touches Cardan's shoulders so many times that I don't know how he hasn't reprimanded her yet.

I hate how he seems to take these touches as something desired. I hate how he looks directly at her. How he tucks her hair behind her pointed ear, with a gradient from green to yellow at the tips of the girl's hair. And I hate even more how, from time to time, he gives me a subtle look, something that, to someone who isn't paying attention, might not even be there.

But I see it.

And, apparently, he seems to enjoy it.

It's been two weeks since our incident in the room behind the throne. And I feel like an idiot. I knew that this couldn't change our already well-established relationship of mutual hatred. But I can't lie that, while he was inside me, with his back completely supported on that tiny sofa, with my hips meeting his, I really thought something had changed.

But, apparently, I was wrong.

And he was right when he said it was a terrible idea. Because the stabbing pains I feel in the middle of my chest every time the pixie's delicate, slender hands land on Cardan's shoulder are certainly not a good thing. I want to vomit. And strangle Cardan.

But I can't do either, so I force my gaze to change direction.

I'm angry at him. So much so that I want to cry. And the worst part is that he's not doing anything wrong. He's always been like this, I tell myself. He's always lived surrounded by courtiers, it's not like, because of you, he's going to become a chaste man faithful to only one person.

And he doesn't owe me fidelity, final.

We are nothing.

I am merely the king's seneschal. I may have some power over him, but I cannot force him to enjoy my company.

But none of these thoughts stop the tears from streaming down my face. I just want to get out of here. I want to lock myself in my chambers and sleep until Cardan is erased from my thoughts.

I cross the hall again.

This time, wanting the Great King to disappear from my sight once more.

જ⁀➴

Three days have passed since the ball where Cardan was chatting with a courtesan. And since then, I have been effectively avoiding him. It's not that I'm upset. I'm just no longer forcing him to be in my presence, which seems to be something he doesn't particularly want.

The problem is that the more reasons I find to distance myself from the Great King, the more reasons he finds for it not to happen.

I had never noticed how coincidentally we are in the same places all the time until I tried to avoid it. And perhaps it makes sense, after all, a seneschal must always be with his king.

However, our situation seems different.

It seems that the High King is the one who can't stay away from his seneschal for long. Which makes no sense at all, after all, it wasn't very difficult for Cardan to stay away from me during the ball and let himself be touched by the delicate hands of some random courtesan.

But now even my walks around the palace during the early twilight are accompanied by Cardan's presence.

I'm annoyed.

It's not enough that I have to see him because of my obligations, he also seems to have a special fondness for following me everywhere possible. Like now, when I find myself trying to concentrate on a strategy book about swords, trying my best to acquire knowledge of some new stance or attack with a high level of damage.

However, my attention is being completely stolen by the High King sitting in a slightly greenish-brown armchair, wearing only a white linen shirt and light cream-colored trousers. He seems angelic, almost ethereal. But his actions are those of a true demon.

He gently swirls the small amount of herbal green wine in his glass and sips it while his eyes wander across the shelves of the palace library, routinely landing on me, as if to make sure I'm still present.

I can't stand his eyes watching me anymore and his relaxed posture as he acts as if he hasn't blatantly flirted with someone else right before my eyes.
I need to put an end to this.

I sigh wearily, closing the book and setting it down on a small coffee table in front of me, and I spread my legs, relaxing my posture and letting my brown pants tighten slightly on my thighs. I throw my head back to force myself to look at the ceiling and then cover my eyes and forehead with one hand, letting my dark green silk shirt, as dark as the forest, brush lightly against my cheek.

"Why are you doing this?" I say without any formality, since it was just Cardan and me occupying that space, and because I'm too angry to remind him with every sentence that he's the Great King.

I can't see his expression, but I hear a slight, smug nasal sigh, and that's enough to make me want to punch him.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" I can feel the arrogant tone and the smug, idiotic smile in his voice.

"Why are you stalking me? I know that, as your seneschal, we need to be together on several occasions, but I believe I've enjoyed your presence much more often than usual." I'm annoyed, but I force myself to lower my head and give him a serious look to see if he can finally stop treating everything like a big circus.

"I think we should bottle up and give him that great, self-esteem of yours—thinking you're being followed by the Great Fairy King—as a gift. Please, Jude, tell me more jokes like that."

The mischievous tone and the way his irises chase mine make me disconcerted enough to look away again.

"I don't know why you're so displeased by my presence when, at the ball, you seemed surrounded by far more interesting courtesans." I meet his irises again, dark as night, but this time I won't look away. I need to show that his little show didn't affect me at all.

But the smile he gives me and the way his mind seems to have grasped something wonderful make my blood boil even more.

"Oh, I finally understand the source of so much hatred when sharing moments with me. You're jealous." He rests his chin on one hand and looks deep into my eyes. "Jealous of me."

And the smile that accompanies it is irritatingly beautiful and too mischievous for my eyes.

I feel my face getting hot, and I don't need to look in the mirror to know I'm blushing.

"Don't fool yourself with your absurd and outlandish ideas." I squint and try to sound even more serious despite the flushed tone of my face. "I don't know what you think you know nothing about me now, Great King, but I know that what we did was only to get each other out of our thoughts. And rest assured, because you no longer occupy mine."

I say this so harshly, trying not only to convince Cardan, but myself, that these words are true.

"Liar."

But the way his smile now looks more bitter and fake clearly shows that my words have had an effect.

I'm too tired for this. Too tired for games. Too tired to listen to whatever he has to say. I don't even know why I started this discussion. After all, he doesn't owe me any explanation.

I sigh heavily and get up from the armchair I'm sitting in.

"Excuse me, Your Majesty, but I have more interesting things to do than listen to your unnecessary explanations about your love affairs."

I don't even bow before leaving the room with heavy, puffing steps, abandoning my strategy book and a Cardan with a strange, furious expression on his face.

જ⁀➴

A week has passed since our disagreement in the library. It's not like I'm counting or anything. It's just impossible not to notice his absence since he said he had better things to do than sit and listen to him brag about his ridiculous flings.

I don't know how he could possibly think I'm jealous of him. That arrogant, cruel little jerk who thinks he's the center of the world.

I hate him.

I hate his soft black curls, his equally soft, pink lips, and his black irises that always seem to see through my lies when they look at me.

I hate him because I like him so much.

And, without a doubt, of all the things Cardan has ever done to me, making me like him so much is by far the worst.

I'm sitting in my office. Since Cardan stopped following me around like a dog abandoned by its owners, I've had plenty of time to dedicate to combat strategies and espionage conducted within the court by the Shadow Court.

I was warned early this morning that Bomba had gone out to investigate a possible rebellion within a court. As usual, I know that at dusk the girl will come through one of the Shadow Court's secret passages to my office with a report on what happened.

And it seems the girl heard my thoughts, because she's walking through the door before I even realize it. She seems to have realized she didn't knock before entering, so she makes a slightly exaggerated bow.

"Excuse the abrupt entrance, but I bring news that is not good at all."

Judging by her appearance, I can tell she was involved in some kind of hand-to-hand combat and had to sneak through many dangerous places, because her cloud-white hair is a mess, part of her blouse is torn in the middle of her ribs, and the knees of her pants are quite worn.

"Is the Court of Teeth really plotting against the king?" I say, perhaps a little too excitedly.

I'm not stupid. I know Cardan's bad reputation among the smaller courts. They call him the Boy King and say he doesn't have what it takes to rule. During the five months I've been seneschal, I've already had to stop about four potential courts from rebelling against their oaths and acting independently of the crown.

"Apparently, Lord Jarel and his wife intend to abdicate their positions and place their daughter as queen of the court because the girl is free from oaths to the crown," she says, sitting down in the reddish-brown, padded chair in front of my desk.

"And that's not all."

The way she bites her lips apprehensively is certainly a bad sign.

"What do you mean?" I ask, but I don't know if I want to hear the next bad news she'll tell me.

"It seems Madoc has a plan to join them." She sighs heavily, anticipating the great confusion that is brewing.

I always knew Madoc would do this. I kept him as general only because I knew that, despite everything, he is the best person in that position. But I always knew that, at the first opportunity, he would betray us, just as he betrayed Dain.

He hates Cardan.

And he hates me even more.

It was only a matter of time.

However, I feel like a complete idiot for allowing this possibility to even exist. Even in such a high position, I can't stop my father's tyrannical plans. I'm not as strong as him.
Power is much easier to acquire than to maintain.

But, again, I have an advantage over him. I have the Shadow Court. Very well, if he knows how to plan a rebellion, I also know how to stop one.
I sigh heavily, trying to relax my posture. There's no way around it. I'll have to go with them.

"Very well, we'll leave at dawn. I'll go with you. After all, Madoc is my father in some way, and I will be representing the crown. The Court of Teeth is probably just dissatisfied with something silly, like all the others."

I look out the window searching for some other way to deal with the situation, but all ideas seem to have fled from my head. The sun is barely visible on the horizon, and the silvery moon and a few stars are already present in the black immensity of the sky.

"Okay, I'll tell Cockroach and Ghost to come with us." She says, already getting up and heading towards the passage again, but before she turns slightly and smiles conspiratorially.

"And, when all this is over, you can tell me about your fight with the Great King that left him so desolate that he drank three bottles of wine alone while whining about you hating him 'in the bad way,' as if there were a good way."

She laughs half to herself at the last part.

"I have nothing to do with the Great King's alcoholic habits, and I owe him nothing beyond my duties as seneschal."

As much as I try to say this seriously, I know my face is burning with redness and my voice comes out lower than I would like.

"As you wish, Queen."

She laughs and leaves without saying goodbye, still using that idiotic nickname they gave me. Because of the new recruits from the Court of Shadows, they take this codename thing very seriously.

However, "Queen" is certainly a codename that doesn't fit my current situation at all.

I try to focus my gaze on something else to redirect my thoughts to something other than Madoc's betrayal and the huge headache he'll make me go through again because of his outlandish plans to seize power of the crown.

I look away at the room in front of me and try to concentrate on details that I missed. I never thought I would have a truly my own place in the world of fairies, but since the coronation I've gained my own quarters in the palace, as well as my own office.

The place is mainly filled with shelves full of vases with plants and an endless number of books on political strategy, but that's not always enough, which leads me to visit the royal library quite frequently.

Some shelves have ladders leaning against them, and the little of the walls that are visible is painted such a dark green that it almost looks black. The room is also occupied by some reddish-brown sofas and armchairs, as well as my chair and the one Bomba was sitting in a few minutes ago.

My desk is made of solid wood and is near a large window in the middle of the room. On it are a variety of maps, stationery, fountain pens, and some pencils from the mortal world with green handles and red tips, which I use to make notes in my books.

And of course, there's my favorite corner.

It's at the far end of the room, away from the main door and the large window. It's like a high cushion built into the wall, surrounded by two shelves that meet at the far end of the room and form a small ceiling above the cushion.

It's always darker there, so on one of the shelves there's a small lamp filling the space. Unlike the other shelves, these are packed with completely different books. It has a significant collection of romantic fiction, mostly with dystopian and complex worlds, also carrying the stolen copy from Hollow Manor of Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass.

I get up from the armchair and go to the cushions. I throw myself down and feel the softness on my back down to my ankles. I nestle my head in the cushions strategically placed there so that my back doesn't hurt while reading.

I've lost count of how many times I've fallen asleep like this after long meetings with the Living Council that leave me so tired that I can't even get to my quarters.

And so I fall asleep again, hoping that when I wake up from my sleep, everything will be resolved.

જ⁀➴

I am abruptly awakened by the sound of the front door slamming open. My ears are disturbed by the loud noise of the doors hitting the shelves before being slammed shut with similar force to how they were opened.

I sit, leaning half on one arm and rubbing my eyes, still a little dusty from sleep. When I finally open them, I feel a slight burning sensation from the bright light hitting them, and I put my other hand over them to adjust to the brightness, because, even though the darkness of the sky outside shows that twilight passed long ago, inside the room the lights remained on.

And, just as my eyes weren't prepared for the discomfort of the light, I also wasn't prepared for Cardan's bitter and elevated voice so early.

"Just because I'm your puppet king doesn't mean I don't have the right to even a warning from my own seneschal about the places you intend to go representing the crown."

The bitter and ironic tone in his voice is nothing surprising, yet it continues to irritate my nerves.

"Hello to you too, Your Majesty." I say ironically, with a tired expression, because now is certainly not the time when I want to have to listen to Cardan's provocations. "No i know how you learned of my whereabouts so early at dawn, but I'm almost certain your informant has white hair and makes excellent quality bombs."

"It's obvious Bomba told me. After all, before I was king, I was also part of the Shadow Court, Jude." He says, and he really does seem a little hurt.

"Yes, I was reminded of that too when I was told that the High Fairy King went to the court spies' lair to drink and whine."

My tone is clearly accusatory, though it doesn't seem to affect him much, because he just sighs some inaudible grumble and returns to his usual arrogant and ironic posture.

"For someone who says I no longer occupy your thoughts, this seems like a strategy to get away from me."

Now his tone takes on an accusatory slant.

"Tell me, Jude, how long do you intend to punish me for your inability to admit that you feel anything for me beyond the hatred you so often declare?"

This time he makes no attempt to hide the hurt in his voice. His expression is irritated, and he clutches his clothes tightly—the same ones from the library, though now they look a little more disheveled.

I'm tired of this pointless show of his.

Is he really hurt by my departure?

And why does he insist on this nonsensical talk of jealousy?

He seems genuinely upset as he stands in front of me, waiting for an answer.

"I thought you wouldn't notice my absence being in the company of so many other better people."

I try to return to the usual ironic tone of our interactions, but this only makes him look at me even more furiously.

"Stop with the irony and jokes. I can't take these pointless provocations anymore. Do you enjoy seeing me suffer?"

Each word that comes out of his lips sounds increasingly drawn out and painful.

I don't know how to respond to this. Of course I didn't enjoy his suffering, but my recent words and actions might actually trigger it in him, and now, realizing this, I feel terrible.

I should enjoy seeing him suffer.

But I don't.

And that's the problem.

Since the answer to his question doesn't come, he just sighs heavily at my silence.

"When do you intend to return? You can't keep handling diplomacy for me forever. Besides, you need to return to your duties as seneschal as soon as possible. Leaving that position vacant makes me look even more foolish than they already believe me to be."

He presses his thumb and forefinger between his eyebrows, as if trying to relieve a headache.

"And what if I don't want to return?"

It's a bluff, obviously. After all, even if I hate Cardan, I would never abandon my position as seneschal.

Still, the desperate way Cardan looks at me shows that perhaps this didn't sound like a mere bluff to him.

"What?"

I can sense a slight tremor in his voice, and he seems a little disconcerted now.

"You wouldn't do that. You fought hard for this position, you're not going to abandon it like that."

He says this, but he seems to be speaking more to convince himself than me.

"What if I've grown tired of your games? What if I want some peace away from you? I've spent the last five months having to stop you from destroying what I fought for, but I don't necessarily have to put up with this forever. Maybe a month is good for me to realign my thoughts. Maybe I never want to go back to the palace again."

I stand up and face Cardan's rigid body, already expecting another barrage of taunts and irony about how I could never live without him and how I was just a mere jealous mortal.

However, his reaction was completely different from what I expected.

Cardan stares deep into my eyes with his dark irises, again trying to see through my lies, but his expression is so sad that I feel a pang in my heart just looking at him.

"Liar."

His voice sounds more fragile than a thread about to break.

This conversation is useless and will lead nowhere. I need to pack my bags. I'll leave at dawn. I don't have time for Cardan's dramas.

I change my course, skirting him and heading towards the large door.

However, then my arm is grabbed.

To my great surprise, I look back so I can press the dagger in my belt against Cardan's neck and remind him that he is under my orders and that he must fear me.

But what my eyes find is Cardan on his knees, trembling, head bowed and sobbing, using both hands to anchor himself to me, as if, to ensure that wherever I went, I would have to drag him along.

"Please… no… please, don’t leave me, Jude… please…"

It’s hard to understand what he’s saying amidst so many sobs. His face is completely red, and tears stream like waterfalls from his eyes.

I had never seen him like this.

I had never seen him cry.

Not even when his entire family was killed during the coronation.

Not even when I threatened to kill him countless times.

And not even when I crowned him king, even though I was the thing he would hate most in the world.

Yet, there he was, crying at my feet.

Completely ruined.

And unlike what little me thought when I entered this crazy world full of strange rules and monstrous, frightening things.

The monster here is me.

My reaction is to freeze completely. Now, more than ever, I have no idea what I should do.

"I know… sniff… that you have every reason to hate me… sniff… I haven't been kind, Jude. Not to many people… sniff… not to you. But please… please, don't leave me. I accept that you hate me, that you fight with me, that you hit me, that you break my heart. Just don't do it from a greater distance… sniff…"

He tries his best to sound coherent and hold back the tears, but all he manages to do is become even more breathless and broken.

Just as I had never imagined seeing Cardan crying, I had also never imagined him begging like this.

He looks like he's on the verge of hyperventilating.

His dark irises stare at me so pleadingly it hurts.

And, incredibly, I can't bear to watch him suffer any longer.

My knees hit the floor before my brain even processes the movement. My hands automatically go to his angular cheeks, trying to wipe away the torrent of tears falling on them.

"Okay, okay, I won't leave you, alright? I'll let Bomba know about the change of plans. I'll stay at the palace, I'll stay by your side. Now can you please calm down?!"

Despite the undeniable importance of the mission, I can't leave him like this. In Cardan's condition, I believe that if he were spared my presence for even one more minute, he would collapse and cry enough to drown the entire Fairy Kingdom for every day of my absence.

"Seriously? Please, Jude… please, swear to me you won't leave me. Please, Jude, don't lie to me."

His face is inches from mine, and I can feel his erratic breath on my skin. His eyes seem to stare into the depths of my mortal soul.

"I swear, even if my words don't mean much. I won't leave you, I will…"

Before I can finish, his pink lips meet mine, pressing them as if they were about to escape at any moment.

Cardan's body presses against mine as his desperate hands force my head closer to his. And, before I can reason, my body gives way and I surrender completely to his arms.

My mouth opens automatically, and his large, curious tongue explores it carefully.

This time, kissing him isn't like fighting.

It's a needy kiss.

He even seems a little desperate.

I faintly taste the saltiness of his tears during the kiss. He kisses me until I'm breathless and then holds on until I'm breathless before finally easing the pressure on my scalp.

"Please, Jude… please, Jude… Jude… Jude…"

He says my name like a plea.

Like a mantra.

And he buries his face in my neck, unable to keep his lips off my skin for long. His tongue slides across the meeting point of my shoulder and neck and sucks so hard I know it left a mark.

His hands seem to find their way perfectly to my waist and back, and his nose sinks heavily into my neck as he kisses my collarbone.

"Cardan…"

I can't help the way his name comes out as a moan from my lips. I feel the desperate force with which he tries to suck my scent into his lungs, and my eyes roll back toward his skull.

"Jude… please…"

He pleads, though he doesn't seem to know exactly what for.

I can't control the part of me that wants to see how destroyed I can leave him.

So my hands simply reach for his hair, and I force him to pull away from my neck and face me again.

His piercing black irises now seem blurry and lost.

He's an even bigger mess.

His linen shirt is completely crumpled and wet with tears at the edges, his face is completely red and moist, with swollen lips, and his crown is even more crooked than usual, in addition to the undeniable bulge in his pants, which is pressing slightly against my stomach.

"Please what? Tell me what the Great King desires, and I will grant it."

I say this looking deep into his eyes, running my free hand from gripping his hair across his cheeks to futilely try to dry the tears still present there.

"Please, kiss me. Please, hit me. Please, punish me for whatever I've done wrong. Just don't go away. I don't need to be the Great King. I just need to be yours."

His voice comes out drawn out and pleading. It was as if it were painful for him to breathe another second away from my lips.

He is a delicious sight.

The portrait of submission.

My hand tightens its grip on the tuft of hair I'm holding, which makes a delightful sound escape the brunette's lips. I bring our faces close again until they almost touch. I'm back, but this time not to kiss him. I've discovered an even more fun way to tease him.

"Come on, tell me, Cardan. Tell me what you want from me."

But his eyes seem too lost in my lips to answer. I think, after seeing Cardan surrendered like this, I'll never be able to resist wanting to see him like this again.

So I can't help but slap his damp cheek. And wow, how I love the redness that appears there.

What I couldn't foresee was how pathetically Cardan would groan in response.

When he recovers from the slap, his irises seem even more distant and lost.

"More…" he lets out softly, like a sigh, so only I can hear.

Another slap hits him instantly.

"Come on! Say what you crave so much. And loud and clear. Maybe I should have some courtesans listen as their Great King begs to receive a few slaps from a mortal."

I practically spit out the words.

I'm far from angry. In fact, I feel almost ecstatic. My whole body feels sensitive and agitated, and in my mind nothing but how beautiful he would look, crying and moaning my name.

The Great Fairy King at the feet of a mortal.

It would be simply delicious.

"Please, Jude… please, hit me more. Punish me more. I just want your mind to think of me."

His grip on the hem of my shirt is light, yet quite present.

"So be it"

.
I bring my face even closer just to lick his lips and free his hair from my bonds. My legs are more wobbly than I imagined, but I still manage to stand and go to my padded corner, sitting on the almost-bed.

"Come here, Your Majesty."

I open my legs wide and relax on my arms.

But when the dark-haired man makes a move to stand up, I raise my hand, signaling for him to stop, which he promptly does, though it clearly confuses him.

"No, not standing up. Since you were chasing me like a begging madman last week, come to me like one. Crawl."

And, for a mere fraction of a second, I doubt Cardan will do it.

The Great Fairy King.

The one who was a very cruel prince. Who once ripped off a pixie's wings for far less.

Still, there wasn't even a flicker of hesitation when he crawls, almost dragging himself, to the point where my legs meet.

And as soon as he reaches it, another, even more violent slap lands on his flushed cheek. Tears well up again in the corner of his eyes, and the slap is so strong that it makes his body fall to the side, leaving his other cheek brushing against one of my covered thighs.

I pull him by the jaw to look at me and watch a small, solitary tear roll down his cheek, unaffected by the slaps.

However, I'm struck by the light pressure of his groin against my heavy boots, which makes us both sigh together.

This time, the pressure comes from my foot against the bulge in his pants, and the painful groan he lets out goes straight to my stomach.

I test the pressure again, now a little greater, and he responds with another pained groan, though slightly muffled by his lips pressed together in an attempt to drown out the sounds.

I deliver another slap to his face.

"Don't you dare hold back your sounds. Everyone needs to hear how the Great King can't stand a few slaps without getting excited."

I caress his cheek, which is now a deep shade of red.

"Yes, Jude…" his voice is weak and lost. "Please, ease my pain. Allow me to stain your bare feet."

The way he struggles to find words for this request is almost comical.

"Do you want to fuck my feet?" I say bluntly, and it makes him shudder all over.

"Yes… please, Jude."

He kisses the inside of my thigh where his face is resting, and his tail wraps around my ankle as if he wants to speed up the process of taking off my shoes.

This is so exciting.

"Okay, I allow it. But you need to kiss my feet throughout the entire process of removing my shoes and then leave them well wet so that there is no uncomfortable friction between my soles and your cock."

He nods furiously and bends down until his lips are pressed against the top of my boot. He kisses and licks the tips a few times until he focuses on just one foot, while the other has its shoe delicately removed, along with my white socks.

When the first foot becomes free of clothing, he shifts his attention and fixes his kisses and licks on the bare foot while doing the same undressing process on the other.

When both my feet are free, he seems a little confused and dazzled to savor them.

He sucks on my big toes, licks the soles and between the toes while massaging my heels. And, when he feels they are wet enough, he gives me a pleading look of confirmation, to which I respond with a simple affirmative nod.

His eyes roll back with anxiety and excitement. His hands hurriedly go towards his pants, he lowered them, revealing his body. It was large, the size of my forearm, looking remarkably like that of a mortal, except for the almost purplish pinkish color of the glans, which kept leaking pre-ejaculate like a fountain.

I  closed my legs to bring my feet together around his member, which made Cardan sigh even harder. His hands found my feet again and pressed them together so that he could move, penetrating the curve of them without letting them escape his grasp.

"Jude…"

My name trailed off his lips, which kept releasing moans and sighs that sounded better than any fairy music I'd ever heard.

I let him take advantage of my feet while I stroked his head and gave him encouraging words about how well he was doing and what a good boy he was. Which, instead of humiliating him, seemed to make him shudder and sink even deeper into the contact with me.

My intimacy throbs with desire at every sound Cardan makes, and I'm so wet that I've probably ruined my clothes as much as he ruined his.

I can't stand just watching anymore.

I tighten my grip on his dark hair and force his face against my crotch.

"Use that mouth. Show me what those lips have learned from so many years of debauchery."

And again, without any resistance, his hands leave my feet and go straight to my pants. His delicate fingers open my zipper in a single movement, already removing the garment from my body.

As soon as my pants slide off, I press his face against my wet intimacy. My deadly lingerie is so wet that it clings to my skin.

Nothing in the world could prepare me for the way Cardan inhales my scent and slides his tongue thirstily over my pussy, still through the fabric.

His nose inhales my perfume strongly, and his tongue busies itself teasing me, slowly passing over my entrance and hinting at deeper movements.

I bring his face up again and deliver another slap, this time to the cheek that hasn't yet suffered from my hands.

"I think the Great King must really enjoy being slapped if he's not following my orders."

Another slap lands on his bruised cheek.

"I told you to use your mouth, not provoke me. Don't test my patience."

At that moment I'm sure that the tearful, excited, disheveled man with flushed cheeks at my feet isn't the Cardan I deal with every day. Because, instead of rolling his eyes and smiling ironically at me when I give him orders, this Cardan seems almost ecstatic.

His eyes are half-closed, and his teeth are biting his own lips.

"I'm sorry, Jude… I'll be better."

And he keeps his word, because his gentle licks become much more intense, shifting the focus to my clitoris, which throbs wildly for attention.

He slowly circles his tongue before really teasing me, sucking with a certain intensity while using his fingers to play with my entrance, applying light pressure as if asking for permission.

My thighs close around his head, pressing him even harder against my intimacy, and maybe I'm suffocating him a little, but the way his mouth works against my pleasure point makes my eyes roll back toward his skull.

I can't think of anything else but how soft his tongue is, how I want to feel more of him, and how he knows exactly what to do to me.

I loosen my grip on his dark curls a little and release his head from the prison of my thighs to let him breathe.

I'm surprised to realize that, with just two heavy gasps, he's already sinking back into my groin.

His hands become bolder, reaching the sides of my hips and hinting at removing the bottom part of my lingerie. But his fingers stop halfway, and his eyes come to me seeking approval, which I confirm positively with a nod.

Then they return to their mission and slowly remove my black lace lingerie while Cardan scatters kisses along the inside of my thighs, sending shivers all over my body.

The fabric slides delicately down my thighs as Cardan's lips busily descend along the inside of them, passing over my calves and ankles until they reach my feet again, where he leaves a chaste kiss on the soles and finishes removing the lingerie, throwing it somewhere behind him.

It doesn't take long for him to reverse course, returning to the middle of my thighs again.

He scatters chaste kisses over my groin to just above my pleasure point before teasing it again with his tongue, sucking lightly afterward.

My body trembles like crazy, and his lips work on me with even more fervor.

My back arches backward, my legs close around his head again, and my eyes almost roll completely from how much i turn them over.

By this point I'm a mess of sighs and low moans. Every time Cardan's name escapes my lips, I feel a slight shiver coming from the faerie beneath me.

He savors my wetness with fervor, as if it were the best drink in the world, sometimes sliding his tongue along my moist entrance only to rise again to my throbbing spot and suck it with his warm lips.

His mouth is warm, as is his tongue, but I can barely perceive the temperature difference, because my body seems to burn with embers with every breath Cardan takes against my groin as he eats me so well.

The position of his hands changes, gripping the sides of my hips with desire and pulling me even closer to him as I feel him groan softly against my intimacy.

I tilt my neck to a position where I can look at him only to find him with his eyes closed, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration, his face deliciously flushed not only from the slaps I gave him. His crown looks like it's about to fall off at any movement, and his shirt got lost somewhere during the process of removing my lingerie, because I find his chest exposed and covered in small drops of sweat.

Then he opens his eyes and stares at me.

His irises seem lost, and the tears that have accumulated in the corner of his eyes trickle down slightly as soon as they open.

I feel the burning in my belly increase too quickly with this sight and, without any warning, my stomach drops as a wave of pleasure so intense takes over my body that my vision goes white for a few seconds.

I bite my lips so hard that I can taste the metallic taste of blood on them and I lean my body completely forward, towards Cardan.

Only then do I realize that I am trapping his head between my thighs again and rubbing my wetness against his lips frantically.

I had reached my limit in his mouth.

In the mouth of the Great Fairy King.

In Cardan's mouth.

As soon as my vision becomes less blurry, I release him from the grip of my legs and throw my body back, lying exhausted on the quilt.

I put my forearm over my eyes and try to regulate my breathing.

Even free, Cardan continues to tease me down there, now as if he wants to savor every trace of my pleasure.

I am very sensitive, so each touch makes my body shiver and my hips move involuntarily against his face again.

After a few minutes, he seems finally satisfied and moves up, distributing kisses across my still-clothed stomach. His hands find their own paths down my back and waist under my blouse.

He kisses the valley between my breasts and stares at me with his pleading, thirsty darkness.

"My sweet Jude… you are my downfall."

His kisses return to my neck, and I finally remember that I haven't tried to help him with his own arousal since his mouth found delicious paths between my thighs.

His half-naked body is completely on top of mine, pressed against me, using one knee to support himself between my legs while his hands trace my torso.

I take advantage of this and slide my right hand towards his pants.

But, for some reason, they seem even wetter than they should be.

Cardan groans against my collarbone as soon as my warm hands feel his already sensitive hardness.

"You…"
It seems so unbelievable that I can't even finish the sentence.

He had reached his climax without even being touched directly, just by sucking me like that.

I squeeze again, making slight back and forth movements, and he lets out a pained, broken groan in response.

"C-calm down… it's sensitive…"

His voice sounds weak and breathless in my ear, but I don't give him time to escape. I move my hand slowly again along the marked length under the fabric, delighting in how easily he reacts to each touch.

His orgasm must be recent, because he automatically starts moaning and writhing to escape my grip, at which point my free hand wastes no time in pulling his hair back, lifting his face before delivering another slap to his cheek.

Immediately after, I slide my fingers along his jaw, tightening it and forcing his face closer to mine.

"When did I ever allow you to enjoy yourself freely, my king?"

The confused and pained expression on his face makes it all the better.

"I thought you wanted my orders… my punishments for your actions. But I see you're enjoying something that should cause you suffering too much."

I smile slightly and brush my lips across the solitary tears that trickle from the corner of his eyes.

"Oh, right… I forgot that the Great King is a little bitch who loves to feel pain."

His moan in response is simply pitiful.

"I'm sorry, Jude… I'm sorry. I'll be better."

He says it again, but I think it's time to make those lips utter louder sounds.

I need to show who's really in control.

"He keeps repeating those lame excuses, but he acts as he pleases. I think I should really punish him for his bad behavior."

I quickly switch our positions and place my knees on either side of his hips, sitting on him and swaying my hips slightly, making Cardan roll his eyes and bite his lips with just the slight friction.

This is going to be so much fun.

I remove my blouse and bra as slowly and sensually as I can, unintentionally wiggling my hips in the process, which doesn't make Cardan's moans any less laden with desire.

I throw the pieces somewhere in the room and am immediately struck by Cardan's hungry gaze on my now exposed breasts.

I am completely naked on top of him.

Completely vulnerable.

And yet I feel incredibly safe.

Because the way Cardan's hungry eyes devour me while his hands remain motionless beside my body, not daring to advance without permission, makes it very clear who is in control of that dynamic.

I am above the king.

In every sense.

"Come here." I beckon him with my index finger.

As delicious as the sight of a red, moist, needy, and completely rigid Cardan beneath me is, my mind only thinks about further mistreating his pink lips until they are swollen and marked by my kisses.

His body wastes no time and rises, sitting with me on his lap. His hands timidly reach my thighs, and his face draws closer until I feel puffs of his warm breath on mine.

He gives me a brief, penetrating look before staring at my lips from beneath his eyelashes.

I waste no time and close the distance between our mouths.

It's as ardent as what we shared earlier.

His lips exert intense pressure on mine, his tongue explores my mouth in search of space until the lack of air becomes present and my teeth lightly bite his lips.

I touch his hands, placing mine on his delicate contours, and guide them to my breasts, which fit perfectly within his grasp, something Cardan doesn't take long to realize, because he gently holds them with his palms and lowers his face to find my collarbone, distributing kisses that descend over my chest while attentively analyzing my reactions to his advance.

Since there is no resistance, he continues the movements until he finds my brown areolas and my sensitive, hardened nipples.

His tongue gives a light, experimental lick to the left one while his fingers massage the other.

Since he finds no resistance again, his lips waste no time and are already sucking, licking, and playing with my sensitive breasts.

My intimacy seems even wetter than I thought possible, my back arches again, and so many breathless moans escape me that it seems like I'm the one who's going to moan and cry loudly today.

I didn't even know my breasts could be so sensitive.

When one of them becomes red and overly sensitive, his lips quickly move to meet the other, making me press my hips against his needy erection.

His moan is muffled by my skin, but his desperate hips thrust upwards, seeking better friction between us.

If Cardan's pants weren't wet enough before, they certainly are now.

My wetness mixes with his and turns everything into a hot, sticky mess over which I can't stop moving my hips.

His mouth doesn't stop savoring my breasts even with the friction, which makes Cardan's moans increasingly muffled.

I feel the burning in my belly even more intense than before, and my lips are mistreated by my teeth with each deep twinge I feel at my pleasure point.

I can't take it anymore.

I need him.

I need to feel him inside me.

I never told Cardan since what happened in the room behind the throne that that had been my first time.

Unlike the mortal world, in the fairy world a girl's first time wasn't such a big deal.

I wasn't a prude. I'd wanted to do it a few times in my life and came pretty close to doing it with Locke, which I'm now immensely grateful to my past self for not allowing.
But I didn't feel any doubt or remorse when I did it with Cardan.

His movements were deep and smooth, his mouth seemed unable to detach from mine even for a moment, and I was so eager and surrendered that the slight pain of the first time seemed insignificant.

Maybe because it was Cardan.

I don't think he knew that was my first time, or if he did, he kept it to himself, perhaps to respect my silence on the matter.

But regardless, this would be the second time we did it, which is funny considering I never thought there would even be a first time.

I lift my hips, ceasing the movements against his intimate area, which earns me a displeased groan from the dark-haired man beneath me, his pleading eyes piercing me while his mouth returns to my nipples.

"Would you rather completely ruin your pants or take them off so I can ruin more interesting parts of your body?"

My tone is mischievous and ironic because of the desperate way his hips try to find mine.

But I don't need to ask twice before his hands release my breasts and begin to almost tear his own pants in a desperate attempt to take them off.

I could perfectly well help him, but I prefer to revel in his slightly frustrated expression at the difficulty of removing the fabric from his body, causing his hurried fingers to actually tear the garment at one of the thigh seams, finally allowing the fabric to slide down to his feet and be kicked away.

As soon as the sound of the garment falling to the floor echoes through the room, Cardan's hands return to the inside of my thighs, now as naked as I am, applying light pressure as an incentive for me to bring our bodies even closer.

I quickly give in.

I sit on his hips again, this time with no barrier between us.

As soon as his warmth truly meets mine, we moan together from the friction free of fabric, and I lightly drag my hips back and forth experimentally, drawing more pained moans from our lips.

I lean in until my breasts press against his, and the slight pressure makes him tighten his lips.

His irises meet mine, and he has never looked so pleading as now.

"Jude… you're so beautiful."

I think Cardan must have some kind of obsession with my name, judging by how often it slips from his lips.

And I can't help but notice how the corners of my mouth lift at it.

I thought about this the first time we became one, and now the thought occurs to me again: I like him more than I've ever liked anyone.

And, of all the things Cardan has ever done to me, making me like him so much is, by far, the worst.

But none of that seems to matter when I slide my fingers across his abdomen.

His skin is damp, and when I reach his groin, the sticky mixture of our pleasures meets my hand.

Sighs and soft moans escape Cardan as soon as my hand reaches its length, and he bites his lips harder, closing his eyes, waiting for me to touch him the same way as before.
But my plans are different.

I raise my hips slightly just to guide him to my needy, wet entrance, which tightens around the empty space in expectation.

I rub his glans against my opening and leave a chaste kiss on Cardan's rosy lips while my free hand presses against his jaw.

Then I make the first move to receive him.

Cardan rolls his eyes almost immediately and gasps as if he's in pain.

I strike his cheek with my hand again.

"Look at me, Great King. See how much I can throw you off balance."

Then, without warning, I press our hips together completely, plunging him inside me.

We groan in unison, and the sound he makes causes an involuntary tightening on my part.

I think I'm going crazy.

I raise my hips only to lower them again. The sound of our skin meeting is utterly obscene, and he seems to go even deeper inside me.

I press my palms against his chest and focus on the rhythmic up-and-down movement of my hips.

Slowly rising until I feel only the head and then lowering completely to feel him filling me again.

There is no more modesty in that room.

The Great King gives up trying to contain the sounds escaping his lips, letting them fill the room along with mine.

His expression is sinful.

His face is flushed, but his right cheek has an even more intense tone due to the slaps.

His glossy lips are slightly parted, his eyes half-closed with small tears welling up in the corners, and his irises watch me as if afraid of missing any reaction from me.

His delicate fingers find a home on my waist, exerting a firm grip while helping to maintain the rhythm of the movements.

He throbs inside me every time my walls tighten around him, and whimpers softly when the tightness eases, only to groan more intensely when it returns.

"Oh, Jude… this is so good… it feels like a dream…"

His voice is weak and breathless, and small drops trickle from his eyes.

He seems in complete ecstasy.

"Does that mean you've dreamed about this, Cardan? Have you dreamed about me riding you like this? Tell me what your dreams were like."

I quicken my movements, already feeling my body accustomed to the opening it's experiencing. My walls tighten around him less intensely now, allowing me to play better with my hips.

My movements become shorter, rising only halfway and then quickly descending again.

The burning in my abdomen increases almost unbearably.

"Yes… I dreamed… but in my dreams you had a dagger at my neck… or you were simply choking me…"

Her sentence comes out more like a moan, and her eyes almost roll back. I completely lose control when I accelerate the joining of our hips.

"Do you want me to do this, my king?"

I bring my hand to his pale neck, pressing the front of it, applying light pressure to his trachea, while my fingers press under his jaw and my ring fingers on the sides of his pale skin.

I can feel his breath falter, and the dark-haired man opens his lips even wider in search of air, his eyes becoming more cloudy as his head arches back involuntarily.

He is very handsome.

Annoyingly handsome.

And the way he smiles like an idiot even with the probable burning of his lungs from lack of oxygen makes another intense twinge hit my pleasure point.

I feel my release approaching.

I loosen the pressure and let him breathe again while I completely lose control of my hips.

My thrusts become short and desperate in search of more contact.

I feel my legs go weak and my stomach drop again.

My eyes meet his as my legs buckle and my vision blurs.

This seems to encourage him to take control of the movements, forcefully lifting his hips and filling me deeply during my climax.

And even when my head falls forward and my forehead meets his chest, he doesn't stop until I feel hot jets filling my sensitive interior and he groans loudly, almost pained, throwing his head back.

My breath remains ragged.

My sweat mingles with his, and soon we press our chests and bellies together again, burying my face in the curve of his neck.

I can see, out of the corner of my eye, purplish marks beginning to appear in the shape of my fingers.

His breathing sounds equally erratic and ragged.

His hands go directly to my back, caressing from my lower back to near the nape of my neck, while his nose sinks into my loose and probably completely disheveled hair.

"I don't want you to exert power over the court anymore, forcing me to obey your orders."

His words take me completely by surprise.

My body automatically rises, supporting myself on my arms on the sides of the padding.

No rational thought can explain the tightness in my chest.

Cardan hates me.

More than ever.

And now he doesn't want me to give him orders anymore.

I ruined everything.

"What?"

My voice comes out weaker than I'd like, and I hate myself internally for it.

I still feel him inside me.

"I want you to release me from my promise to obey you for a year and a day. I don't want to be your puppet king anymore."

Given the importance and harshness of what he says, Cardan's expression seems very calm, and his fingers brush a strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my round, deadly ear.

I was so foolish to give myself over.

So foolish to fall for his half-truths.

So foolish to actually think he could feel anything for me besides hatred and desire.

"And how would I govern Elfhame? How would I ensure Oak finds a stable kingdom in the future? What would I be? Just his seneschal?"

My expression is furious.

I feel so stupid for ever thinking I could trust Cardan.

"Marry me and become the Queen of Elfhame. You can rule freely without having to give me orders and make decisions on your own."

Then all the anger dissipates, leaving only confusion.

I think I'm hallucinating or I heard wrong.

But when his eyes meet mine so apprehensively and anxiously, I realize it's true.

Cardan just proposed to me.

"Are you telling me you don't want to remain tied to me for a few months out of obligation… but you want to be with me until the end of your reign?"

The corner of his mouth lifts in a truly stupid smile.

"For me, it would be until the end of our lives."

His fingers slide through my brown hair, gently caressing my scalp.

“You will live forever. I will live much less.”

I say this to see if I can remind him how serious marriage promises are.

“I can’t imagine my life without you anymore, Jude.”

He doesn’t say it directly, but he’s stating that on the day of my death he won’t be able to bear continuing to live.

I desperately want to doubt him.

My brain desperately tries to create explanations to turn those words into a trick.

But he can’t lie.

No faerie can.

He truly wants to marry me.

To let me rule Elfhame.

“Please, Jude… be my wife. My woman. My queen.”

He seems about to cry again, and his voice comes out almost painful.

He’s afraid.

Afraid of being rejected by me.

“How will I know this isn’t a trick?”

I’m too surprised and shaken for my words to sound as threatening as they should.

“Because it’s you I love. I’ve spent most of my life protecting my heart.” I protected it so well that I acted as if I didn't have one. Even now, it's a wretched, moth-eaten, and greasy thing. But it's his.

Lonely tears stream down his face, and I'm struck by the fact that he's crying in front of me again.

"Marry me, Jude… please."

He pleads and seems to swallow a lump as he finishes.

"Alright. I'll marry you."

The words escape my lips before I can even process them.

Maybe I'm making the biggest mistake of my life.

That in a few days he'll reveal some trick hidden behind his words and shatter my heart into pieces.

But right now none of that matters.

Because I just want to kiss him.

I want to caress him, sink into the warmth of his arms and count how many times his chest rises and falls.

Now there's nothing else but the two of us.

His hands cup the sides of my face and he kisses me passionately.

It's only then that I realize this is just one of the many kisses we'll share from now on.

I kiss him until dawn.