The thing about Jurdan is that their romance is ACTUALLY RELEVANT TO THE PLOT.
See, with Percabeth and Sokeefe, leaving out their romance wouldn't change anything. They could just be really good friends or best friends.
But with Jurdan, well, if Cardan didn't romantically love Jude, if he hadn't been OBSESSED with her, then he wouldn't have offered to make her queen, which would have changed a lot in the plot.
(Not saying that this makes Jurdan superior to Percabeth or Sokeefe)
This is my two cents-feel free to disagree and give me arguments why.
Was it because of Oriana? Madoc had not seen much of her interactions with the children, but they might have been apprehensive of new stepmother-Vivienne certainly taunted him about his infidelity to his previous wife. And when she had said at the wedding, in front of everyone, that Oriana certainly hadn't married Madoc because even his first wife didn't want him, he had thought that he might kill her. Certainly his stare had silenced her, but she continued to smirk and many fairies silently laughed. He had not been able to face her after the event. Everyone knew about and questioned (Even silently ridiculed) his two human daughters. Yet he continued, and they had come to be accepted over time. The fairies questioned him no more. He wondered if they had cut off her top ring finger or whether it had really been an accident as she claimed. It had been almost 2 weeks since they had gone-the first few days, he had been too busy to notice, yet at the end of 4 days with none of his daughters running around and yelling, he had begun to worry. And then he had checked on them, and they hadn't been there. And he had searched, and they hadn't been there, and then he had searched more, and they were gone. It was only the next day that they had come back, and when he had seen them there, they had run to him, and he had run to them, and then tear-stricken apologies and half-explanations tumbled from their mouths, and Vivienne had looked at them through her cat eyes, blinking back tears, betrayal and anger and grief blazoned on her face like a painting for the world to see. And he had sunk upon his knees and told them that they would have nothing to fear and that Oriana would not hurt them, and that he would not send them away, and that all four of his children would be safe. And he had been so angry at Vivienne, but Jude and Taryn begged him not to punish her, so he relented. 'Why leave, did I not give you enough?' he had asked. Subconciously, he knew that he had taken what he could not give, and had tried to trade jagged, rusted, useless metal for the most beautiful, rarest diamond in the world.
(PART 2! Sorry if it's a bit underwhelming. Please leave constructive criticism under my writing posts-I'd really like to hear how I can improve!)
Madoc was standing in the house once again, reliving his worst memories-Eva and Justin's deaths. The house where Vivienne had vowed to hate him. The house where Jude had screamed at him and hit him. The house where Taryn had sobbed, shaking her mother's dead body, though Eva would never get up again. It was empty. No one had bought it even after 3 years-the deaths still haunted them. It looked normal-a red plastic FOR SALE was mounted on the lawn and the wind chimes jingled in the comforting breeze. He wondered if ghosts existed. Would Eva and Justin be staring at him with contempt in their eyes? He hesitated, just as he had 3 years ago on that fateful day. Oh, how he wished he had grabbed Vivienne and Eva and ran. Would Justin come after him? Perhaps. But maybe he would take care of his daughters first. Madoc didn't know-Justin had been such a strange man. He didn't want to go inside. He didn't want to relive the bloodstained carpet and smell of wet blood.
He swallowed. He was a redcap. He was brave, and he slept at night knowing that he had killed thousands of soldiers. He could go inside and endure the ghosts of the past. He inhaled, curled his hands into fists and stepped inside. Nothing. It was empty, scrubbed clean, like no one had lived inside it at all. There were ornamental decorations and a pleasant perfume permeated the air. All dressed up to make it look flashy and attractive. Nothing could ever attract Madoc to the house, except for the fact that his daughters had run away. Just like Eva. Just when he had thought that they had begun to like him-they had sat on his lap, eating out of his plate, and played Nine Men's Morris with him. Taryn had stopped flinching every time she saw him, and Jude had smiled at him, even coming to have a somewhat twisted affection for him. Vivienne, of course, had not stopped. The weight of her vow would never leave her, and she had been so angry that she could not speak to them for days. Had she guilt tripped them into leaving? Most probably. Though they loved him somewhat, they would never be able to forget their real parents. The ones that he had murdered right in front of their eyes. Blood on the kitchen floor and the heavy smell of blood. He forced his feet to move, up, down, up, down. Into the kitchen where Eva once lay. Into the backyard where Justin's forge once stood. Into the bedrooms- He stopped, inhaling sharply. The beds were clearly made with gray and yellow covers. The room was airy and sunlit, dust motes dancing in the sunlight. A peaceful, drowsy afternoon. Was this where his daughters had slept? Where they had played with each other? Where they had watched, what did humans call it, TV? Television? Eva had told him of it and he had watched the strange pictures dance across the screen. They had watched it together, she laughing, he not understanding but smiling and playing along. He closed his eyes. He opened them again. Any question of them being here was gone, though they might have come for a brief visit. Were memories too painful for them as well? Footsteps made him spin around. Standing there was a woman, wearing a suit that hinted that she might be a-what had Eva called it-a 'real estate agent', someone who sold property. 'Sir,' she said. 'I don't know what you're doing here, but you need to leave, unless you're a potential buyer. How did you get in here?' He hit her on the side of the head and she crumpled. His heart wildly richocheted and suddenly she was Eva. He had killed another person. He stepped back and fell against the wall, screaming into his bundled cloak. Was she dead? His eyes were wild, his heart pounded as he scrambled to find out. No, Eva, please don't be dead- She had a pulse. She was bleeding, but she would be all right. He couldn't stay here. He had to leave-he barely had a few minutes to go back before he would have to attend a meeting. He took her phone, called the police (911, was it?) gave them directions and then stepped out. Suddenly, he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay here and drink in the memories of a family, torn apart by him, that he had so desperately tried to put back together. And now that they had run away, he might never be able to. He took the silky black horse back to Elfhame. His memories took the form of knives, stabbing into him as he recalled their painful shapes and colors. They took the form of needles, slowly sliding into him as he silently screamed, feeling the cold, sharp pain of memories upon him.
I don't think that Locke would have been as much of an asshole if Liriope had lived-her death probably caused his shock and decline.
Heather showed Vivienne her drawings. They were amazing-Vivienne loved how they portrayed her cat eyes and faerie ears, making them pop.
‘How long have you been drawing?’
‘Well, since I was a toddler. I’m going to attend community college and major in something involving art. I just love drawing and painting-it’s my central passion. I’d die if I couldn’t draw anymore.’
‘So, drawing is the thing that calms you down?’ Vivienne said.
‘Most of the time, yeah. It doesn’t always help me, though-sometimes my emotions are so intense that even if I draw, I can’t calm down, and when I have art block, it’s the worst.’
‘Yeah, art block sounds bad if your main thing is drawing,’ Vivi agreed. ‘Um, hey, want to go get some Chinese food? Just you and me-I can pay for it.’
‘Ooh, really? That would be great! I’ll pay for my own food, though. You can pay for yours.’
They went to that great Chinese restaurant-the one with the amazing fortune cookies. Heather had been there once and she’d gotten the funniest fortune-there is money in your future-that doesn’t belong to you.
‘They have really funny fortunes, though you find generic ones too.’ she said. She started talking about the restaurant and telling Vivienne all about it, though Vivienne had been there a few times before (in glamour disguise). Still, Vivi nodded her head and pretended that she was just going there for the first time, just to hear Heather talk about it.
They ordered spring rolls and sweet and sour chicken. Heather talked about her life and family and Vivienne listened to her.
Before she knew it, hours had passed and Heather had to go home. They exchanged numbers and she left, Vivienne staring after her.
When Vivi returned home, Taryn asked her why she was smiling so hard, and she blinked and noticed that she was. She simply shook her head and went to her bedroom, then jumped onto the bed, squealing and giggling. Maybe life wasn’t so bad after all.
(I recently learnt that there's a short story on Heather and Vivienne in Faeries Never Lie-The Honest Folk. If I've made any mistakes in this short story, please let me know! Thanks for reading!)
She met her in a mall courtyard.
Vivienne was simply walking around, window shopping. She occasionally bought something if she felt like it, or if she thought it would annoy Madoc, or to gift to Jude and Taryn, though they seldom liked such presents-maybe because it reminded them of their brief childhood in the human realm and they had no use for it in Faerie.
She usually glamoured herself to have round ears and brown eyes, though sometimes she let her natural features shine through. Some humans saw through it-rarely adults, sometimes children, who were not believed, though she smiled at them. If an adult really did see it, they convinced themselves that they were hallucinating. Sometimes, however, she let her real features show to enjoy the look on people's faces. Some of them would come up and ask her about it, and she would be vague about it.
This time, she wore her real features. She was feeling somewhat bummed out after a fight with Madoc and Oriana and wanted some comfort food after window shopping, one of her favorite things to do.
She wandered along the aisles, looking at glittery sticky hands, beautiful porcelain mugs, comfortable-looking sweaters and beanies. She smelt the aroma of Chinese food and Subway. She ran her hands along the grainy counter tops. And she sunbathed on the wooden benches while listening to her favorite music playlists on her phone that she had magically obtained-there was a whole lot of glamouring involved, too many complications all for a simple phone.
And then she saw Heather.
The first thing she noticed was a smudge of blue ink on her nose. Then she noticed her beautiful eyes, the color of darkest amber. And finally, when she spoke, Vivienne was afraid that she was talking to someone else.
'I want to draw you.'
Vivienne blinked. 'What?' she said, looking around, but there was nobody else. The girl was talking to her.
'I want to draw you. You're beautiful!' the girl said, gesturing towards her face. 'You're absolutely breathtaking-ethereal.'
Vivienne blinked rapidly and blushed. 'Oh-um, thank you. Thank you very much.' she giggled.
VIVIENNE. STOP GIGGLING LIKE AN IDIOT.
'I'm an artist,' the girl said, sitting next to her. 'I love drawing things. What's your name?'
'My name? Oh, it's Vivienne.'
'Ooh, French! Meaning full of life, very spirited.'
Vivienne laughed. 'Yeah, that's me. Very vivacious. Though my sisters call me ferocious.'
The girl laughed too. Her laugh was beautiful-very musical. 'Your eyes and ears-they're beautiful! How did you do them like that?'
How did I do them like that? Vivienne thought. Oh-she probably thinks that they’re fake products and contact lenses.
‘It’s a bit difficult, but I get it right in the end.’ she said, smiling mysteriously. At least, trying to smile like she was an enigma.
The girl laughed again. Her laugh really was music to the ears. ‘Oh, cool. Are you cosplaying or something? Or are you just doing it as part of a makeup routine, or do you just like the look?’
‘Oh, um, I just like the look.’ Vivienne said.
No, I do not like the look. In fact, if I could, I’d trade them for rounded ears and brown eyes in a heartbeat. Madoc would be so mad.
‘Wow. How’d you get your parents to approve? Mine are a little bit strict.’ she said.
Vivienne swallowed. ‘Well, my mom is dead, and my father and I aren’t on the best terms, so I usually stay away from the house. He doesn’t pay much attention to me anyway, so.’
She couldn’t lie, so she’d have to twist her words with this mystery girl-but she’d have to be much more subtle, since humans were not like the fey. They could probably see through lies much easier, since they could actively lie, something Vivienne wished she could do at times.
‘Ohhhhh.’ she said awkwardly. ‘Well, that’s sad. Um. So, do you come here often?’
‘Yeah.’ Vivi replied. ‘I love window shopping and then getting food to eat. It calms me down, every time.’
‘That must be nice-being able to find something that will calm you down, no matter what.’
‘It is.’ Vivienne agreed. Especially after she had come back to Elfhame after trying to leave forever.
‘So………….may I draw you? You look fascinating. Not to objectify you or anything,’ she hastily added.
‘Yeah……..wait, what’s your name?’
‘My name? Oh, it’s Heather.’ she said. ‘I’m gonna start sketching-are you ok with that? Just tell me if you’re uncomfortable.’
‘No, I’m ok. You can start,’ Vivienne assured her.
Heather started drawing, looking at Vivienne and then back at her notebook. Vivienne, in turn, secretly stared at Heather-she loved her bunch of pink curls, her gray glasses that kept slipping off her nose, her lovely eyes that were a lot like Jude and Taryn’s, her rounded ears, her clothes that also had drawings on them-beautiful, intricate designs. She didn’t know if she’d meet her again, but she wanted to stay in touch with her-someone actually her age.
‘Did you draw those?’ she asked, gesturing towards her clothes.
‘What? Oh, yeah, I sometimes sketch on my clothes, though it drives my mom crazy. I love tie-dye shirts because I can make whatever patterns I want-I also like to design my clothes.’
‘You can design your own clothes? That’s brilliant!’ Vivienne said. She normally wore human clothes, even when in Elfhame, but she sometimes wore faerie clothes, that were also intricate and delicate and simply designed for beauty, and she had a feeling that Heather would love those.
No way. You can’t tell her about Elfhame. She’d go mad. She wouldn’t believe you. She’d think YOU were mad.
‘Thank you!’ Heather smiled. Her smile was beautiful, like her laugh-it changed her face so much, Vivienne wished she’d smile forever, though she’d have so many wrinkles if she did. ‘My mom knows how to sew and all that-she taught me!’
‘Your mom is brilliant,’ Vivienne offered, then was pleased with Heather giggled and offered another thanks, saying that she’d be sure to tell her mother.
11 year old Jude looked at Madoc. 'What you want to do is evade the strike.' he said. 'You can't always evade, but it's best to learn how. Your reflexes have to be quick enough-if they strike suddenly, you'll need to jump back and preferably not fall over. I'm going to strike, and you're going to step back.' 'Ok,' she said. He took the sword and struck at her. She screamed and jumped back, tripping over her feet. 'Yes,' he said, smiling slightly. 'That's what you want to avoid.' He would not admit it, but he was growing to love Jude more than Vivienne. She was so like him-fierce, determined, ready to protect her loved ones at all costs. He saw so much of him in her, rather than Vivienne, though he had spent years thinking about the latter and imagining how she could have been if not for her untimely 'death'. Yet it was Jude whom he gravitated to. She had Eva's fierceness, determination and resilience. What he had originally been attracted to. Taryn was also there, yes, but she was more quiet and submissive. It was Jude that he really liked. And it seemed that she growing to love him as well, though she did not feel comfortable with it. He had let her sit on his lap and eat out of his plate, even though he had murdered her parents in front of her own eyes. Jude flushed. 'Sorry.' she said, darting glances at him. 'Um.' 'Let's try again.' He struck at her and this time, she stepped back expertly. 'Good. Now, it's not always good to evade-you're only putting yourself where the blade is not, which might be useful in some situations, but if you want to end the fight, you'll have to strike back. And sometimes, the enemy will be faster than you, or you will tire out and finally be struck. And if you misjudge their timing, you're done for.' She nodded. 'You want to be able to do a simple BLOCK.' he said. 'When your opponent attacks you, you raise your sword and block their thrust. Put the blade between yourself and your attacker. You can also support the blade, like this-' he grasped the blade in one of his hands while holding the hilt with the other. She practiced the block and at the end of an hour, she had mastered it. 'Amazing, Jude! You're a natural.' he said, smiling at her. 'Keep on doing this and you'll be the best swordsman in Faerie.' 'Swordswoman,' she mumbled, then nodded and smiled back at him. One of their mutual interests was sword fighting-well, their strongest mutual interest, actually. They took many lessons outside, sometimes Jude being covered in dirt and sweat after them, much to Oriana's chagrin. Everything was all right now-he might have murdered their parents, but they seemed to have gotten over them and were well adjusted to Elfhame. (Even if they had left for a brief period of time last year. Vivienne had said that they just needed a vacation from Faerie, but Madoc was glad to see that Jude and Taryn were ecstatic to be back. Even if Vivienne was sulky and depressed.) Still, sometimes he felt depressed looking at them. How could he have killed their mother? They were so young, and it had obviously affected them in terrible ways. He wondered if they still cried into their pillows when they slept. Hopefully not. He was delighted with Jude's progress, and, as time passed, hoped to make her into one of the best, if not THE best, swordsman in Elfhame. It was the least he could do, teach her how to survive in Elfhame, for her mother. Eva may not have been a good wife, but he would be a good father to Jude-and to Taryn, and Vivienne. If there was one thing he would do for his dead wife, it would be to raise her daughters in honour and give them a good life. Fate may not have smiled upon him in the Duarte house, but he was in Elfhame, and by the blood crown would he bend it to his will here.
Murderer, 8 year old Jude thought as she looked at the man who had killed their parents.
How long ago had it been? A year, perhaps. Time flew by before she knew it. One year ago her biggest fear had been the math test coming up, and now-well, she would take every math test in the world if it meant going back to her parents and house.
Not this horribly large mansion with its false promises of empty beauty. And the terrifying monster that resided in it.
Her parents' murderer. The smell of wet red blood and splayed limbs on the kitchen floor was burnt into Jude's mind like it had happened yesterday-perhaps always would be.
When she first came here, she had been fully in shock. Taryn and Vivi had wailed, she had been dazed. Now, she was ready to fight-fight for both her sisters, like Vivi who would fight for them. She still cried, but she now drew her sword, eyes narrowed, baring her teeth at Madoc, her mother's former husband.
Vivienne didn't call him father. She said that Justin Duarte was her father, and that Madoc could never live up to him. Madoc's cat eyes flashed, and Taryn shrank, but Jude was glad of Vivi's ferocity and disgust, matching her own.
Madoc sighed as he watched her try to wield her practice sword. For some reason, he had wanted to give her a sword fighting lesson one on one-without her sisters, in front of this monster, Jude felt terrified and stripped bare.
'Adjust your grip,' he said, touching her hand, and she recoiled in horror. He adjusted it himself, then stood back. 'Try again.'
She growled and lunged at the practice dummy. Strike and thrust.
Her practice sword broke in half-she had hit too hard.
'Well,' she said sarcastically. 'I guess that's broken, then.'
'I can see that,' he said. 'Now, cut vertically. Like this,' he said, swishing his blade down, and she flinched and jumped. He drew in a sharp breath, then shook his head.
'I'm sorry,' he said. 'It must have been too soon. Cut vertically.'
She cut her sword vertically down. It was somewhat difficult.
'Practice. Do it again. It will get easier with time, and you must hone your reflexes. You need to know how to jump back without falling and how to duck and roll.' he said.
Maybe if he hadn't killed her parents, she'd be back in the human world, learning normal human things instead of sword fighting.
She missed her parents so hard, it hurt sometimes. A part of her still believed that they might come back, that maybe someone had taken them to the hospital and they were actually alive and they were searching for them.
But wouldn't her parents have found them by now if they were still alive?
'All right, Jude, keep cutting down vertically.' he said. 'Maybe your sister Vivienne will learn the hard way of refusing to learn the ways of Faerie.'
'Don't say that,' Jude snapped at him, then shrank when he looked at her and raised his eyebrows.
'Very well.' he said. 'Keep on practicing, Jude.'
‘NO!’ Vivienne screamed, running away and sobbing. ‘LEAVE ME ALONE, MURDERER!’
Murderer. Madoc’s head pounded. How long ago had it been since his rage and grief controlled his head and actions, thus causing another emotion to seep in-guilt?
But maybe he had already been guilty-guilty that he hadn’t done enough for Eva to want to stay here. He had always been at war, and she had been so young-somewhere in her early twenties. Human aging was confusing.
He took a deep breath and strode towards his daughter. He couldn’t make Eva stay, but he had his daughter now and he was going to make her stay. He’d make her stay and learn how her mother was wrong-she would be his heir, his pride and joy, and she would stay in Elfhame.
He picked her up and pinned her thrashing arms to her sides. Vivienne screeched and he winced. If only Eva were here to control her.
Eva. Another wave of guilt overtook him. How could he have thrown his sword at her back just like that? Justin was another matter entirely (escaping with HIS wife and siring THOSE brats! Hmph). But Eva was their mother, the mother of ALL of them, even those bastards.
(They looked so much like her, though. And Vivienne looked like him. She had his ferocity from his younger days.)
‘Vivienne,’ he said sternly, ‘listen to me. I am your father and you will obey me. Can you not listen to me for once? You are already behind-I will catch you up on the ways of Faerie. You and your sisters.’
‘I HATE YOU!’ she screamed, tears running down her face. ‘MONSTER! KILLER! MURDERER! I HATE YOU SO MUCH YOU KILLED MY PARENTS LEAVE ME ALONE LET ME GO-’
‘SILENCE!’ he roared, and she flinched away from him, trembling in his grasp. She glanced at him and then glanced away, continuing this like a pendulum.
He drew in a sharp breath, looking at her. She was so small, so tiny in his hands-he could hurt her in any way he wanted.
(Just the thought of it made him sick. How could he do that to his own daughter?)
She looked at him, her eyes red and watery, her nose sniffly, her face wet with uncontrollable tears.
She was scared of him. His beautiful young daughter, his baby, his heir, she was afraid of him.
The worst thing was that he was used to it. He knew those flinches, those wide-eyed pendulum glances, those limbs jerked away from him, that shivering. Even Eva had sometimes displayed them, though he had tried to ignore it.
But to have his daughter do it-his sweet, precious daughter that was supposed to have been born in the walls of his mansion, who should have been trained by him from the time she could walk, who should’ve been brought up like a warrior, who should have laughed as she killed with him, a true redcap, yet Eva had run away, and this was the result.
He moved to wipe her nose and she bit his hand. He let go of her with a yell and she dropped from his hands, rolling into a ball on the floor (who taught her that? Eva maybe) and, picking up a vase, threw it at him. It shattered against the floor, dropping before it could reach him. She screamed and ran away again.
He sighed. He was exhausted. He had accidentally ruined his chance at happiness by killing Eva, and now he was stuck with her two bastards. If it had been only Vivienne, it would have been somewhat better, but………..
(Why had he killed her? And what if he had not? Would she escape a second time?)
A thought struck him-what if VIVIENNE tried to escape? She had her mother’s courage and spunk, so the thought of her planning to run away with her sisters was not far off.
No, he couldn’t allow that. (But he did. Three years later. Though thankfully they returned).
‘You’re not my father,’ she snarled at him. ‘Justin Duarte is my father.’
He froze.
Justin Duarte.
The best human smith Faerie had ever seen, once his friend, then his enemy for a brief period of time, before he had died by Madoc’s blade.
He had trusted him, taken his blades, laughed with him.
How had he not seen the signs? Of course, he had been at war for too much time. Of course he had thought that Eva wanted to spend time with Justin because he was another mortal, and wouldn’t she get lonely without her own kind?
She had promised Madoc that she was his bride and his alone. Oh, those sweet words from her honeyed, smiling, full lips.
Mortal words. Ones that he never should have trusted. Mortal vows, so easily broken, like porcelain vases.
And mortals themselves, who would smile and simper and promise, and in the end, they would take what they could and did not care.
How like fairies, only fairies used different methods of manipulation, and then they could be far crueler.
He’d thought Eva was a human-she could have been a faerie, the way she deceived him and took his own daughter from him.
And then Justin, raising her as his own. Horrible man.
(Honourable man, loving his stepdaughter as if she were his own.)
Had Justin ever abused her? No. Had he ever looked down on her for not sharing his blood? No.
Madoc grit his teeth. If Justin could do it, then he could too. After all, they were the progeny of his wife and thus his responsibility.
(Damn responsibility. Sometimes he wanted to fling off its burdens, just let his rage and bloostlust wander freely).
They would receive the same education as his real daughter. They would be claimed and accepted as his own and live in high Fae society and eventually settle down.
(And they did. But did they?)
Justin Duarte is my father, not you.
He looked at her, his eyes cat narrowed. Her eyes were the same and her ears were his. Even her skin was white, unlike his green and her mother’s brown. A mix of human and faerie, both worlds. He had been excited to know what she would like, and then he thought that he would never know. And then he knew, and her face had been distorted with fury and hatred.
She was staring at him fiercely, murderously, like a redcap. He almost laughed-such irony. What he had most wanted her to look like was directed towards him. Oh, Eva.
He sighed. ‘I am sorry, Vivienne.’
She looked at him warily. ‘What?’
‘I am sorry for killing your mother-and your stepfather.’ he said.
She snarled. ‘You mean my father.’
‘No. He was your stepfather. I am your real father. And I should have not killed him-yet my rage took over. One day you too will know the feeling. Though I hope that day will never come for your sake.’
She laughed wildly. ‘It’s too late. They’re dead. They’re dead, and I hate you, and I’ll never love you, and my sisters will never love you, so stop trying.’
‘I don’t expect them to love me,’ he said. (But they did. It was just not a comfortable one.)
‘Good. Because we won’t. And one day, we’re going to leave and never come back.’ she said.
He inhaled sharply. ‘No. You are going to stay here. You are my heir and will obey me.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Like hell I will. I obey no one and do as I please.’
He swallowed and picked her up again. She started screaming and kicking, and he knocked her out. She fell imply in his hands and he sucked in a breath, pausing to make sure that he hadn’t seriously hurt her.
He carried her back to her room, ignoring the surreptious looks from the servants.
He opened the door and stopped.
There were Eva’s other children-her twin daughters, huddling under the covers. One looked at him, eyes wide with terror, while the other, the one who had kicked him after he had killed Eva and Justin, glared at him, burning anger concealing white hot fear. Both of their faces were like hers. They were wet with tears like his daughter’s.
He walked over to the bed and they scrambled away from him, screaming when they saw Vivienne lying unconscious.
‘What did you do to her?’ the angry one screamed.
‘She’s unconscious right now. She’ll wake up later.’ he said gruffly.
He deposited her on the bed and turned to leave. At the last moment, he stopped, his hand on the door handle.
‘I am sorry, children,’ he said to them. ‘Sorry for taking away your parents when you so desperately needed them. But know that I will make it up. I will claim you as my own and you will be raised as High Fae.’
He would do it-he could raise them, his daughter-daughters. Eyebrows would raise, mouths would whisper, but he was the High General and he could bear it for their sake. He would sacrifice for them if need be.
He would do it for Eva and Justin, for he owed it to them-they had wanted to raise their children peacefully and he disrupted it, but now he would do the same. Maybe he could find a wife to teach them what he could not-the social customs and methods of Faerie, the intricacy and delicacy and finesse that he was so lacking in.
‘All right.’ he muttered. ‘Eva and Justin, this is for you. Here I go-to becoming a new, determined father.’
Was Vivienne ever aggressive like Madoc? That her redcap nature, though somewhat tempered by her human nature, played a role in her pre-Elfhame childhood? Was that why their parents and the other adults were so worried, apart from the cat eyes and fairy ears? Do you think that Eva saw Madoc in Vivienne's eyes and shrank from her? What about Justin? Do you think that they homeschooled her to keep themselves safer? Do you think that she was angry and ferocious at Madoc, then saw that he liked it, then tried to calm down and be nicer and go against her fiery nature and not learn battle strategies and swordplay in order to displease him?