Chapter Text
After a day of humiliation and salt, it’s easy to accept Locke’s offer and go and drink the rest of the evening away. I am sure Balekin will be furious when I don’t appear at Hollow House, but equally he will be unsurprised. He expects me to let him down. And so I do, always.
“He’s seeing her you know,” Nicasia slurs, almost as drunk as I am. Her head is in my lap and although it’s reminiscent of that fateful Summer we shared, I no longer feel anything for her in that way. But sometimes another warm body against my own keeps the chill away. Or thoughts of her.
Nicasia told me herself that we’d fallen into one another for convenience and basic attraction. She is beautiful, even by faerie-standards, and even I was susceptible to her charms. While that might have been true, the memory of finding her wrapped up in Locke on my bedroom floor , no less, still stings.
They’ve not been close of late, and I half wonder if she’s conveniently fallen for another.
“Who is seeing who?” I ask, although I don’t care much. Romances are common and fickle. I learned that quickly.
“Locke.”
So it’s Locke that’s moved onto another. And I don’t care anymore, I don’t , but I feel spitefully happy that Nicasia was left the same way she left me.
“Don’t you want to know who?”
I shrug and take another sip of wine, each gulp fading the memory of Jude’s smug smile at lunch, washing away the taste.
I hate her, I think, but I know I won’t be able to say it aloud. We can’t lie, after all. I suppose humans have one good thing going for them. I wonder if Jude lies to me.
“The human girl.”
My eyes open at that, “What?”
Nicasia smirks up at me and curls her finger under my chin. “See. Knew you’d be interested, Princeling.”
My nose wrinkles at the odious nickname, only ever used by faeries in a tone meant to mock. Employed by my brother most of all. I contemplate feigning disinterest but I’m drunk you see. Drunk and painfully unable to pretend.
“Jude,” Nicasia’s eyes glint with both hostility and amusement. “I almost didn't believe that he left me for that pathetic human.”
I don’t really hear as Nicasia continues, cursing her and completely oblivious to the irony of whom she is complaining to. I’d seen her smiling in Locke’s direction, and he back at her. But I’d never thought Jude could be so stupid.
"We'll hurt her tomorrow," I promise, as I fall asleep, drunk in the grass.
I hate you.
I hate you both.
....
....
I’m impossibly hungover the next day, but my friends drag me to lessons, urged on by the promise of retaliation. As the day drags on, both Valerian and Nicasia’s changes to Jude's punishment grow increasingly cruel, but perhaps I take after my bastard brother more than I want to, as I make no attempts to stop them.
I never said I was good.
And I can understand Nicasia’s need for revenge, even if it’s for an idiot like Locke.
Locke frowns in mild disapproval but does nothing to deter them either. So much for his supposed affection for Jude. I grow increasingly irritable as the sky begins to darken, and Jude herself grows more subdued, as if she regrets provoking us. Dusk falls and it with shadows seem to dance around her, as if they can’t help but be drawn to her too. I only hope that if Jude catches me staring, there's nothing kind in my eyes.
As the lessons finally end, a pointless bore as they ever are, the smallest tingling of both horror and anticipation curls in my belly. I feel rather ill, and I’m not sure if it’s phantom nausea from yesterday's salt on my tongue, or the feeling of unease I get when I try to avoid Jude’s gaze but see her in a mirage in the grass.
Confessedly, part of me wants to leave straight after class. The spark in Valerian’s eyes isn’t something new to me, and whenever it appears I know he’s going to take something too far. But I’d be cowardly to leave, I’m the one that started hating her first. That made the rest all join in.
Jude is mine to despise.
Besides, if I leave Jude at the mercy of my friends entirely, who knows if I’ll ever see her wretched face again?
We follow Jude and Taryn into the woods, their human ears too fragile to hear our soft footfalls close behind.
Valerian is in front, of course, a hand over Jude’s mouth before she even knows what’s happening. She punches blindly, because of course she does, and I can’t help but smile despite the sinking feeling in my chest. Locke grabs Taryn by the waist, oddly familiar. I’m surprised he’s so openly involved himself and I can't imagine Jude will ever forgive him.
Jude cries out loudly, to no avail. No one will be coming to save her, and if they did they’d leave the second they saw me. The thought is less comforting than I’d like it to be.
We get to the river, Taryn whimpering pathetically and Jude still flailing around pointlessly. She may be strong for a human girl, but I can attest to Valerian’s iron grip being second to none.
I reach Valerian’s side once we get to the riverbank and all it takes is a single push to send them both underwater. It’s dark now, and although it's Summer the night isn't warm, and I shiver as they hit the water. The memory of Balekin doing this very thing, but when I was younger and couldn’t reach the bottom, dredges itself up uncomfortably. I comfort myself with the fact that it’s only waist-deep, and Jude started it with the salt .
I’m not my brother.
Jude is up first, spluttering and face bright red with anger, her expression annoyingly fascinating. Taryn grips a boulder, silent and eyes wide with shock. They both stare briefly at Locke, faces and expressions strangely alike for a moment. I can’t help but feel pleased that they’ve come to realise he’s not so lovely after all.
Better a cruel prince than a false friend.
“There are nixies in this river,” Valerian says with a grin. He’s enjoying this far too much.
“If you don’t get out before they find you, they’ll pull you under and hold you there. Their sharp teeth will sink into your skin.” He mimes taking a bite and Jude somehow manages to look poised with fury, despite slipping around in the mud.
I hate her , I think, but my brain repels the thought.
“Nixies can’t help what they are,” Nicasia laughs, kicking up mud and water so it splashes on Jude’s face. Like me, she’s far less interested in Taryn. In fact, Taryn is only involved by proximity. Jude is the one who stole Locke. Jude is the one who provokes me.
Nicasia grins and adds, “Just like you won’t be able to help drowning.”
Valerian empties both of their schoolbags onto the riverbank, and he, Locke and Nicasia take turns hurtling the contents into the water, laughing with delight with each splash. The leather-bound notebooks sink into the dirt, and reams of parchment float downstream eerily.
My legs are locked on the riverbank, like Jude in the mud, but I smirk and wave at my friends appreciatively anyway. I can’t bring myself to throw Jude’s possessions away with them, but like always she is only glaring at me. I’m always to blame.
“Is this fun?” Jude calls to the shore. Amazingly, she still doesn’t look frightened at all and I tamp down the reluctant admiration in my chest. Balekin would prefer her as a brother. Gods, my father would probably prefer her as a King.
“Are you enjoying yourselves?” Jude repeats, and she finally moves, slipping and sliding in the mud as she makes her way toward Taryn.
I’ve never cared for someone the way they seem to care for each other. Or rather, the way Jude cares about Taryn.
“Enormously,” I chime in, belatedly. I can’t have her thinking I’m not enjoying this immensely. My voice rings hollow but I doubt anyone will detect it. No one ever does.
“This is just a game,” Nicasia giggles. “But sometimes we play too hard with our toys. And then they break.”
“It’s not like we drowned you ourselves,” Valerian calls.
Jude slips and my heart lurches as she’s pulled downstream. I wince as she opens her mouth in a yelp, muddied water streaming in. I step forward into the reeds before I even realise it, in her direction, but she latches onto the root of a tree.
Nicasia and Valerian laugh raucously and I catch myself, expression smoothing over into nothing.
My heartbeat thunders in my ears as Jude pushes her way back to Taryn, who is calling out to her, hysterical. Jude lugs up an algae-covered rock, determination etched across her face. “If the nixies come at us, I’ll hold them off,” she announces.
“Quit,” I say, my eyes never leaving Jude. My pinned gaze willing her to stay on her feet.
“You should never have been tutored with us. Abandon thoughts of the tournament. Tell Madoc you don’t belong with us, your betters. Do that and I’ll save you.”
Jude stares at me, familiar and angry. My blood rushes to my head.
“All you have to do is give in. Easy.”
Jude spits out mud and then looks at Taryn, her expression softening.
“And you’ll save Taryn, too?”
It makes me angry. The way she’d only cave for Taryn’s sake and not her own. So insufferably self-sacrificing it makes me feel nauseous.
“Oh, so you’ll do what I say for her sake? Does that feel noble?”
Jude looks at me, “Why don’t you tell me how you want me to feel?”
I bite back the childish desire to say why don’t you, but give in to the desire to take a step closer. I squat down in the reeds, eye level.
“There are so few children in Faerie that I’ve never seen one of us twinned. Is it like being doubled or more like being divided in half?”
Jude ignores me.
“Twin sister,” I say, turning to Taryn for the first time all day.
“Would you make a similar sacrifice? Let’s find out. I have a most generous offer for you. Climb up the bank and kiss me on both my cheeks. Once that’s done, so long as you don’t defend your sister by word or deed, I won’t hold you accountable for her defiance. Now, isn’t that a good bargain? But you get it only if you come to us now and leave her there to drown. Show her that she will always be alone.”
Taryn freezes, but it only takes one word from Jude for her to give up and wade towards the bank. I smile at her, despite my fury. I know Jude would never have left.
Twins they may be, but as it turns out siblings are never equal or the same, faerie or human.
A pale shape in the water swims toward Jude, but she throws a rock in its direction and it jolts. Nixies are a pain but nothing Jude can’t handle. Especially now she’s no longer focused on Taryn.
Valerian takes Taryn’s hand mockingly, as if he’s escorting her to a dance and not dragging her out of muddy water.
I don’t look at her as she makes her way over to me, and presses her frozen lips to one of my cheeks and then the other. I don’t look at her because I’m looking at Jude.
I’m always looking at Jude.
“Say ‘I forsake my sister Jude,’ ” Nicasia says. “ ‘I won’t help her. I don’t even like her.’ ”
Taryn looks back at Jude, who looks a little less angry but no less muddy. She nods at her sister on the riverbank as if to encourage her to continue.
But her eyes don’t lie, I’ve spent long enough staring at them to recognise it.
She’s hurt.
“I don’t have to say that. That wasn’t part of the bargain.”
“Your sister abandoned you. See what we can do with a few words? And everything can get so much worse. We can enchant you to run around on all fours, barking like a dog. We can curse you to wither away for want of a song you’ll never hear again or a kind word from my lips. We’re not mortal. We will break you. You’re a fragile little thing; we’d hardly need to try. Give up.”
I taunt her, as is our only form of communication. The sadness dissipates and she’s back to fire, eyes fixed on me and mouth curving in a smirk.
“Never,” she grins.
“Never? Never is like forever—too big for mortals to comprehend.”
It wasn’t even my idea, but again, it’s down to the two of us.
“Think on us,” I say eventually, eyeing the shadows in the water but they stay away. “All through your long, sodden, shameful walk home. Think on your answer. This is the least of what we can do.”
With that, I turn away from her, beckoning the others to follow me. Everything in me begs me to turn around, to see her set foot on the riverbank, but I don’t dare turn back lest she see me. If I pause to bend down and feign tying a lace on my shoe though, ears pricked up to hear her safe exit, no one has to know.
I give my friends a flimsy excuse to leave them, circling back to the river, my face burning with shame. But it’s night, and in the darkness I always find it even harder to lie. Or easier to tell the truth. I want to see her get home.
I follow them both until they’re back inside, but when I’m turning to go, Locke appears out of the bushes. He doesn’t see me, and my chest burns. I wonder if he's here to see Jude. I want to get out of there immediately, but some masochistic impulse wins out and I stay rooted to the spot.
She looks like her, even more so in the dark, but it’s definitely not Jude who creeps out of Madoc’s mansion, eyes shiftily looking behind her.
“I told you to trust me,” Locke greets her, sickeningly sweet, and leans down to brush her hair off her face intimately, and if he’s done it before. I wonder if I misheard Nicasia, but there’s no way to mix the twin's names. Much as they're dissimilar in personality, they are also dissimilar in name.
“You can't tell Jude,” Locke says. Taryn nods, head hanging. Locke lifts up her chin and says, “Why are we doing this?”
Taryn looks up at him, eyes large, “To prove to you my love.”
Locke pats her on the forehead, but in the manner one might pet a domesticated animal. Certainly not a lover. Taryn is even more pathetic than I thought. Undeserving of Jude, undeserving of-
“Must you keep hurting Jude?” Taryn whispers, and my blood runs cold at the pair of them.
I’d known Locke wasn’t at all whom he projected to be, but he might just be worse. Taryn too.
Worse than me, even.
At least I'd never claimed to love her.
....
....
Jude is quiet the next few days at school. Nicasia jokes about the smell of muddied nixie lunch, but neither of the twins pay her any mind.
I stare at her, willing her to look in my direction but she doesn’t spare me a glance. Thankfully, whatever may or may not be happening with Locke appears to be on pause. And he definitely doesn't approach Taryn at all, nor look in her direction.
The Court lecturer begins a lesson on decomposition, and that’s enough for my friends to resume the dirt-jokes. Jude sits staunchly through it all, but the tense line of her jaw betrays how she feels. Her face is so expressive and my fingers itch to paint her likeness, despite the fact that I’m not one for artistic inclinations.
Jude skips our next rehearsal for the mock war but Fand confirms that she’s still going to fight. I zone out of the rest of the lesson, my mind straying to the tournament tomorrow. Oddly enough Balekin has shirked on my ‘lessons,’ of late, but I’ve no doubt he will be there in the morning, expectant for my inevitable disappointment.
I can’t help myself when I pull Taryn aside after class, the moment Jude’s attention is occupied elsewhere. Taryn cries before I’ve even opened my mouth to speak. I hate weakness most of all. I hate her. I hate Locke.
It’s stupid of me, but I feel as though I may explode if I don’t say a thing. It's not my lie and it's more ambiguous deception, but it still burns uncomfortably under my skin.
“You know why Jude is being punished,” I start, and Taryn starts crying louder.
“It’s because of you. You and Locke. How can you-” I pause, overcome with anger. I don’t stop to think about why.
I think of Jude, muddy and alone.
“Jude is suffering because of you, so don’t for a second think that you’re any better than any of us. Jude doesn't-" I trail off, before I say something to revealing, Taryn's tears slide down her cheeks and she stares at the ground.
Someone Jude, obviously, my brain quickly supplies, catches me off guard and shoves me in the chest, hard. I trip, collapsing backwards into a tree trunk, the force of her push aimed to hurt. I can barely see her face because I’m still so infuriated at her stupid sister - at my stupid friend. At everyone.
She leaves her hand pressed onto my shirt, it’s warmth making my heart skip pathetically. I hope she doesn’t notice.
“I don’t know what you said to her, but don’t you ever go near my sister again,” Jude says, eyes blazing. Her fingers curl around my breeches and she tugs them roughly and pushes me back into the tree, winding me. Everyone is watching us.
“Oh,” I hear myself saying, a little breathless. No one dares to touch me. Balekin excepted, that is.
It takes a moment for me to regain my composure, as much as one can be shoved into a tree, the object of their incredibly reluctant desire inches from their face.
“You’re going to regret doing that.”
She smiles.
....
....
I wake on the morning of the Summer Tournament unsettled, a nightmare about Balekin's hands around my throat. Or maybe it's a memory. I head to where the Tournament is being held, aptly, on the edge of a cliff on the Isle of Woe.
Balekin is lounging on a throne in the centre of the crowd when I arrive with my friends, his attendants and members of the Circle of Grackles flanking him. The sight of him, as it always does, makes me nauseous. He glances at me just once, expression stern and I know the punishment that awaits if I dare embarrass him.
Fand organises us, handing out wooden swords. It feels idiotic, in light of the older groups who use steel. But at the same time, when I see Jude, her expression trained on me, deadly, I can’t help but feel relieved. I might not be human but I still bleed. I’ve no doubt Jude would cut me in two if given the chance, and I’d likely hesitate just long enough to let her.
The faeries murmur at Jude’s arrival, and with difficulty I don’t look up to see her. I don’t need her getting under my skin further today, not in front of the Court. Not in front of Balekin. Whispers wonder if I will dole out punishment for her laying hands on me in school. Oh if they knew the press of her palm had nearly singed me, only to play on repeat come nightfall.
But no one can touch a prince without repercussion. And certainly not a cruel one.
The first battle is quick and fast, and I can feel my brother’s eyes on me at every minor slip up. I avoid Jude in battle, as much as it’s a prime opportunity to taunt her, I know it won’t do me any favours. Surprisingly she doesn’t come near me either.
I’m breathing heavily when we break, and it’s only then - off the battlefield, that I feel it’s safe enough to approach her.
“You are docile today. Did your sister admonish you? She desires our approval very much.”
I kick the grassy ground, dirty spraying into the air.
“I imagine that if I asked, she’d roll with me right here until we turned her white gown green and then thank me for the honour of my favour.”
Jude is still, and it irks me that I fail to provoke her. I smile, and lean in towards her to whisper “Not that I’d be the first to green gown her.”
The venom in my tone nearly surprises me, and it's more directed at her sister but Jude's not to know.
Her shoulders visibly shake but she doesn’t say a word, just turns to me eyes alight. I’ve just declared battle, whether I wanted to or not.
I should know better than to start things I’m not certain I can finish.
When we’re back for our second round Jude is vicious, my attempts to avoid her fail entirely. It’s as if every time I falter she’s there, knocking the wind out of my chest. It’s not just me though, when I pause for breath she’s taking on Valerian, despite his size on her. She’s all ferocity and little finesse, but you don’t necessarily need technique to win a battle.
No one had expected brute strength from a human girl, though.
Jude is different from our mock battles at school, in which she’s usually calculated and precise. It’s as though she’s thrown all training to the wind, in a single-minded effort to simply knock everyone to the ground. The third and final battle continues in the same manner, and she amazingly doesn't lose momentum.
The crowd cheers in her direction as I fold over, heaving, exhausted. Jude stands tall, despite her trembling, her right eye is black and swelling and blood is smeared on her cheek and knuckles.
She’s beautiful and frightening.
I straighten, chilling at the noticeable absence in the Royal Box. My brother is gone, but father is there speaking to Dain. The King doesn’t look at me once but I see him look at Jude, mildly impressed.
When we’re off field I can’t stop myself walking over to her, I’m shaking with both anger something I can’t define.
I take her face in my hands and her eyes widen. She hadn't seemed it on the field but she feels smaller when I look down on her. More fragile.
“Do you know what mortal means? It means born to die. It means deserving of death. That’s what you are, what defines you—dying. And yet here you stand, determined to oppose me even as you rot away from the inside out, you corrupt, corrosive mortal creature. Tell me how that is. Do you really think you can win against me? Against a prince of Faerie?”
Jude swallows hard and my eyes betray me and track the motion of her throat.
“No,” she says, strangely small and subdued, as if she hasn’t just torn half of us apart. I take my hands off her face, her blood and sweat on my fingertips.
“So you’re not completely lacking in some small amount of animal cunning. Good. Now, beg my forgiveness.”
Jude backs away.
My hands shake and I hold them behind my back.
“Get down on your knees. Beg. Make it pretty. Flowery. Worthy of me.”
The others begin to gather around, excited to watch the outburst they all expected from me. And who am I to disappoint them?
“Beg?” Jude echoes, outraged.
“You defied me. More than once. Your only hope is to throw yourself on my mercy in front of everyone. Do it, or I will keep on hurting you until there is nothing left to hurt.”
My voice trembles ever so slightly.
Jude looks at me, and starts to slowly lower herself to the ground. But when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out and she shakes her head.
“You think because you can humiliate me, you can control me?” she says, straightening and taking a step towards me. It's like a spell and then she's tall, impossibly tall, the Jude on the field that would definitely knock me down if we traded up wood for steel.
“Well, I think you’re an idiot. Since we started being tutored together, you’ve gone out of your way to make me feel like I’m less than you. And to coddle your ego, I have made myself less. I have made myself small, I have kept my head down. But it wasn’t enough to make you leave Taryn and me alone, so I’m not going to do that anymore.
I am going to keep on defying you. I am going to shame you with my defiance. You remind me that I am a mere mortal and you are a prince of Faerie. Well, let me remind you that means you have much to lose and I have nothing.
You may win in the end, you may ensorcell me and hurt me and humiliate me, but I will make sure you lose everything I can take from you on the way down. I promise you this. This is the least of what I can do.”
I can hardly breathe, my breastplate suddenly unbearably tight. No one has ever spoken to me in this way. No one outside of my own family, that is.
Jude turns and stalks away and I don’t run after her, I don’t call anything out, I don’t do anything at all but watch her walk away.