The Queen of Nothing (The Folk of the Air #3)(83)

But Madoc remains grim. Resigned. “I raised you to be uncompromising. I ask only for a good death. Quick, out of the love that we had for each other. And know that I bear you no grudge.”

Since the battle ended, I have known I would be called upon to pass judgment on him. I have turned over the question of punishment in my mind, thinking not just of his army and his challenge, not just of our duel in the snow, but of the old crime, the one that has forever been between us. Do I owe him revenge for the murder of my parents? Is that a debt that must be paid? Madoc would understand that, would understand that love could not stand before duty.

But I wonder if what I owe to my parents is a more flexible view of love and duty, one that they themselves might have embraced. “I told you once that I am what you made me, but I am not only that. You raised me to be uncompromising, yet I learned mercy. And I will give you something like mercy if you can show me that you deserve it.”

His gaze comes to mine in surprise and a little wariness.

“Sire,” puts in Randalin, clearly exasperated by my handing down every final decision. “Surely you have something to say about all—”

“Silence,” says Cardan, his manner utterly changed, his tongue a lash. He looks at Randalin as though the next sentence might be passed on the Minister of Keys. Then he nods to me. “Jude was just getting to the interesting bit.”

I don’t take my gaze off Madoc. “First, you will swear to forget the name that you know. You will put it from your mind, and it will never again fall from your lips or fingers.”

“Would you like to hear it first?” he asks, the faintest smile at the edges of his lips.

“I would not.” This doesn’t seem the place to tell him I know it already. “Second, you must give us your vow of loyalty and obedience,” I say. “And third, you must do both of those things without hearing the sentence for your crimes, which I will nonetheless bestow on you.”

I can see him wrestling with his dignity. A part of him wants to be like the soldiers who denied the desire for atonement. A part of him would like to go to his grave with his back straight and his jaw set. Then there’s a part of him that doesn’t want to go to a grave at all.

“I want mercy,” he says finally. “Or, as you said, something like it.”

I take a deep breath. “I sentence you to live out the rest of your days in the mortal world and to never put your hand on a weapon again.”

He presses his mouth into a thin line. Then he bows his head. “Yes, my queen.”

“Good-bye, Father,” I whisper as he is led away. I say it softly, and I do not think he hears me.



After the coronation, Taryn and I decide to accompany Vivi and Oak, who are heading back to the mortal world. Now that the war is over, Oak could return to Faerie and go to the palace school just as Taryn and I did. But he wants to live a little longer among humans, not just because he’s been there for the better part of the last year, but because Oriana has decided to move with Madoc—and Oak misses his parents.

Vivi has been back and forth for the last week, going on dates with Heather, to whom she’s just reintroduced herself. But now that she’s leaving for good, she gathers up rose hip jams, spider-silk jackets, and other things she wishes to take back from Faerie. As she does, she speculates about all the aspects of the mortal world she’s going to have to explain to Dad. “Like cell phones,” she says. “Or self-checkout in the grocery store. Oh, this is going to be amazing. Seriously, his exile is the best present you ever got me.”

“You know that he’s going to be so bored that he’s going to try to micromanage your life,” Taryn says. “Or plan your invasion of a neighboring apartment building.”

At that, Vivi stops smiling.

It makes Oak giggle, though.

Taryn and I help Vivi pack four saddlebags of stuff, even though Vivi has planted plenty of ragwort in the woods near her apartment building and can return for more supplies anytime she wants. Grima Mog gives Vivi a list of things she’d like sent back to Elfhame, which appears to be mostly instant coffee and hot sauce.

What I don’t expect is that Cardan offers to journey with us.

“You should absolutely come,” says Taryn. “We can throw a party. You two got married, and no one did anything to celebrate.”

I am incredulous. “Oh, we’re fine. We don’t need any—”

“It’s settled, then,” Vivi says, forever my older sister. “I bet Cardan has never even tried pizza.”

Oak looks scandalized by this pronouncement and starts explaining about different toppings, from pineapple to sausage to anchovies. We’re not even in the mortal world and already I am filled with dread. Most likely, Cardan will hate it, and the only question is whether he’s going to be awful about it.

Before I can think of a way to dissuade him, we’re loading the saddlebags onto ragwort steeds. Then we’re flying over the water. Before long, we touch down in a patch of grass near the complex, but not so close to the apartment that Vivi’s neighbors are likely to recognize her.

I climb off and take note of the dullness of the grass and the scent of car exhaust in the air. I look over at Cardan warily, worried he will be wrinkling his nose, but he appears merely curious, his gaze going to the lit windows and then toward the roar of the nearby highway.