Cardan & Jude oneshots

Inferno

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Hello everyone! I apologize in advance for the ridiculously long size of this chapter lmao, I got carried away by the excitement of trying to write cute scenes, sue me!

This chapter is a follow-up to "The Maze" and "Hollow Hall," chapters 3 and 6 respectively. But it's more closely related to chapter 6 because there are many parts that will continue from this chapter.

This chapter is the only one with an FFM relationship (Jude, Nicasia, and Cardan), but it's more focused on the relationship between Cardan and Jude, though I certainly don't downplay Nicasia's involvement. 

It's a threesome. 

If you don't feel comfortable reading it, please don't. I don't want to cause discomfort to anyone. I'm about to start writing the next chapter for a request I have on AO3.

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I wake up with a terrible pain in my arms. My muscles, despite being trained, are sore. As I drink the fennel tea that was on my bedside table and shrug on a doublet, Gnarbone comes to my door.

"Your pardon," he says with a short bow. "Jude must come immediately—"

Tatterfell waves him off. "She's not fit to see anyone right at the moment. I'll send her down when she's dressed."

"Prince Dain awaits her downstairs in General Madoc's parlor. He commanded me to fetch her and not to mind whatever state of dishabille she was in. He said to carry her if I had to." Gnarbone seems repentant at having to say that, but it's clear that none of us can refuse the Crown Prince.

Cold dread coils in my stomach. How did I not think that he of all people, with his spies, would find out what I'd done? Of course he would know what happened between me and Cardan and is here to put a stop to it.

I wipe my hands against my velvet top. Despite his order, I pull on pants and boots before I go.

No one stops me. I am vulnerable enough; I will keep what dignity I can.

Prince Dain is standing near the window, behind Madoc's desk. His back is to me, and my gaze goes automatically to the sword hanging from his belt, visible beneath his heavy wool cloak. He does not turn when I come in.

"I have done wrong," I say. I am glad he stays where he is. It's easier to speak when he's not looking at me. "And I will repent in whatever way—"

He turns, his face full of a wild rage that makes me suddenly see his resemblance to Cardan. His hand comes down hard on Madoc's desk, rocking everything atop it.

"Have I not taken you into my service and given you a great boon? Did I not promise you a place in my Court? And yet— and yet, you use what I have taught you to endanger my plans."

My gaze goes to the floor. He has the power to do anything to me.

Anything.

Not even Madoc could stop him—nor do I think he would try.

And not only have I disobeyed him, I have declared my loyalty to something completely separate from him. I have acted like a mortal. Hormonal, irresponsible, naive and desire-driven.

I bite my bottom lip to keep from begging for his forgiveness. I cannot allow myself to speak.

"The boy wasn't as badly hurt as he might have been, but with the right knife—a longer knife—the strike would have been lethal. Do not think I don't know you were going for that worse strike."