how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories read

He’s grateful, of course, but it feels as though it’s just another of the ridiculous, absurd, dangerous things she does. It’s absurd, sometimes, the thought that she loves him. I am what you made me, she’d told him as they battled.Ĭardan knows Madoc isn’t the only one who made her the way she is. While Cardan was in the next room, drinking wine and chatting, she was swinging a sword at her foster father, stalling for time. Once, she told Cardan the story of confronting Madoc after she’d drugged him, but before the poison began to work. Feels as though she has to earn the crown on her head over and over again. She feels as though she has something to prove at all times. Of course she wants to fight it, whatever it is. Bold.Įven without the look, he ought to know her answer. It is an expression that he never once saw her make when they attended the palace school together, yet from the first he saw it, he knew it to be her truest face.

Like a promise you won’t fight some monster just to impress one of the solitary fey who, as far as I can tell, you don’t even like.” “Now that I agreed to travel your way,” he shouts over the wind, “you ought to give me something I want. He can’t believe his good fortune, can’t trace the path that got him here. They are two people who ought to have, by all rights, remained enemies forever. He cuts his gaze toward his unpredictable, mortal High Queen, whose wild brown hair is blowing around her face, whose amber eyes are alight when she looks at him. It’s not as though he doesn’t enjoy a little danger, just that he doesn’t gorge himself on it, unlike some people. “I suppose I would have plummeted out of the air,” Jude tells him with troubling equanimity, her expression saying, Horrible risks are entirely normal to me.Ĭardan has to admit that the ragwort steeds are swift and that there is something thrilling about tangling his hand in a leafy mane and racing across the sky. “ This is how you traveled? What if the enchantment ended while Vivi wasn’t with you?” This?” he demands, looking down at the waves far beneath them.

How the king of elfhame learned to hate stories read