Her face made him angry.
'beyond ugly, incredibly horrendous,' the thought was like poison in his mind, or so he hoped. He hoped if he thought it over and over that perhaps he would believe it, but he truly believed that the truth was in fact that he was trying to lie to himself. If only he could bring himself to say those words he thought so deeply. That though, is how he knew it was a maddening lie.
He could only tell truth, no lie could slip past his lips, but they could from hers. Lies could spill from her lips like cascading waterfalls or trickling streams passing over a valley of stones and pebbles all alike. He could never be sure if she was being honest. He could really never know if any mortal was honest, but he didn't really care if other mortals were dishonest with him.
Sometimes in classes he would cast a glance in her direction. There was something about her, an air to her that was anything but graceful. She was rough, clumsy, nothing like everyone else. Yet she never backed down. Years ago after class, a boy had put a glamour upon her, or tried to, suggesting that a small growing tree was a handsome boy who would give her everything she could desire for her virginity. A joke, surely. Perhaps it would have been humourous to see, but instead she had landed her fist against his face several times before leaving with that meek little sister of hers. She was always careful, having salt and a string of rowan berries on her at all times. She knew their customs and wouldn't back down. She stumbled along being drowned in the faults of humanity, yet she played them as her strengths. She made it work, was fierce and strong and ready to fight at every turn. Of course, the man who raised her was the general himself.
He gritted his teeth. He wanted to stop thinking of her. He wanted to forget that she even existed. She was in no way a part of his life. She only watched him when he was doing something awful. Her eyes only fell on him when he was in his most foul of moods and instead of being disciplined, he would drink his thoughts away and find amusement in making others feel just as horrible as he did.
Those are the only times that he has caught her eyes on him. The way she looks at him. He clenched his fists and opened his eyes to stare at the wall, anger coiling tightly in his stomach and quickening the blood in his veins. The way that she looks at him is with a look of disgust, of hatred, as if he were a terrible monster. Of course she would see him as such. He saw himself as such.
Even if he tried to court her, to sweep her off her feet... She was a careful mortal, she keeps a string of rowan berries and a bag of salt on her at all times. Just that enough and the look in her eyes tell him all he needs to know. She keeps those things on her person because this is a place where people like himself exist.
Thats why he wanted to hate her. That's why he wanted to find her ugly. He wanted to see her as insignificant. Many people hated him. Many people who ought to love him don't. Only his friends cared about him and even then it was for their own selfish reasons. Even so... It was better than being completely alone.
He had acted horribly tonight. Done something foul. He closed his eyes again and tried to pretend that he wasn't the person who ripped the wings off of someone. Destroying their ability to fly ever again. Sometimes when his friends were there and laughing, who is he to ruin the fun? He took things too far, he always took things too far, and maybe his siblings would cast him looks too or even once in a great while, his father whom could never be pleased. Never be pleased with him specifically. Even when Cardan was younger, his father seemed to hate him, seemed to hate him for no reason other than his existing. If his father wanted to hate him, he would give a reason. When he was cast a look of hatred, he would at the very least, damn well deserve it.
He hadn't expected to catch her eyes though. He didn't know why it cut him so sharply. He shouldn't care of some mortal girl's opinion of him. Then again... He knew the story.
The general had married a mortal woman who bore him a child but she ran away with some other mortal, taking the child with her. When the general had found her, she had bore the mortal man a set of twins and his anger boiled at the even further betrayal of their agreement. He carved her and the mortal man into a bloody mess in front of all three of the children before taking them all into his home.
An ill-placed smirk crawled onto Cardan's lips. How torturous it must be to live with the man who killed your parents and takes you to a world where your kind are tricked into endless years of servitude and tricked into dancing in hot metal slippers and eating rocks disguised as honey cakes that break your teeth for the pure amusement of the folk.
He wondered if she was so fierce and unwavering as to avenge her parents and take on the redcap once she has strong enough, or has she grown to love him as her stead? Surely, she must know what its like, to feel hated, to feel unloved. To feel as though you don't belong to this world or the next.
He shook his head because he had wondered these things for a while now and had even occasionly plotted whisking her away to some sort of grand gesture and asking if she hated the world just as much as he did.
Her eyes tonight told him more than enough. She would never love him, never care for him. She would kill him with her gaze if she could. She would sooner see him dead before finding amusement in whatever theatric he would perform to garner her positive attention. His actions had not only made him feel deserving of the loath from his family, but it seemed to also make all those around him hate him as well.
A knock sounded at his door, but he sat in silence. Too often he relished in delights that melted away his senses and mingled his ability to perceive right from wrong, amusing from disturbing. He wondered if had he kept his wits about, would she never have cast a look at him?
The knock sounded again, but he went on ignoring it, far too lost in his thoughts. Finally his handle twisted and the door was pushed open for Nicasia to come into view. Her green and blue hair that had earlier been put up and ornamented was now let down and she had put on a thin pale green dress with embroideries of flowers along the bottom hem. He was about to say something harsh, something hideous, something about how she chose Locke over him, but when he caught her eyes he could see the moistness that she was desperately trying to conceal. Unshed tears were threatening to fall from her eyes like raindrops of a land where dark clouds never relented and the sky was always blackened with sorrow.
"You were right... About Locke. I'm so stupid." She shook her head as she entered the room and closed the door behind her. Cardan held back a sigh, there was no point in saying I told you so.
"You've seen how he treats every girl he's been with." He decided he couldn't help it after all. He had every right to say I told you so. She shook her head, her body betraying the words she said next as she took a seat on his bed.
"I just didn't think he would grow bored with me... I mean, why did he try to... So badly, he ruined us Cardan." She stated it as she looked into his eyes. Even with tears finally seeping out of her eyes, a drop here and there, he could see her desire for him, her longing.
"You ruined us." Cardan stated back before gazing at the wall behind her. Nicasia clenched her eyes with a frown as she turned her head, unable to look at him either.
"That mortal girl, the twin, hes been seeing her behind my back for a while now." Nicasia finally said. He was happy she was turned away because his own eyes widened. Again his blood quickened. His heart thundered against his rib cage and he felt hot all over.
"With Jude Duarte?" He questioned. Nicasia gave him a look and he regretted saying her name. Why would he know some mortal's formal name?
"I just don't understand how he could sneak around with a mortal, behind my back!" Nicasia finally said, she shook her head with shame.
"I don't know, I just... I need to do something. I need to get back at them somehow." Nicasia stated.
"I want her dead so badly in a way but at the same time, she's just a stupid mortal, how could she turn away someone like Locke?" Nicasia questioned. Cardan bit his tongue for a moment. He couldn't say what he wanted to say. His thoughts were racing and his whole world seemed to be crashing down.
He always pitied her. No, not really, felt something for her, a similarity, a feeling, a familiarity that she could maybe be the one person to truly understand what it's like, but he was too much of a coward. Every musing he had of talking to her ended with either her fist in his face or turning her nose at him because why would she want anything to do with him? Now any musing he had though was filled with a stare fixed with icy cold hatred and disgust.
"Mortals forget their place." He decided to say, it was true enough he thought, or else he couldn't have said it.
"We will remind them tomorrow." He added.
That it was Locke made it worse. He took Nicasia, seemed truly interested for once. In honest, he didn't treat Nicasia like the others, but he seemed to have discarded her all the same. Now Locke had taken the only other person he had pined for. The person he pined for in secret, the person he hated to secretly love and loved to secretly hate, the imperfect mortal girl who although clumsy would sooner bring you harm and cleverly trick you before you could even think to do the same to her. She was clever he liked to think. Sometimes she gave a clever answer in class and other times he would listen to her conversations with her sister during lunch. Sometimes they argued and other times they would tell stories or recount happenings from the mortal world that they could remember. Sometimes he would hear them talk about sword play and tactical lessons they had with the general, Jude seemed to be good with a blade, more than likely better than even himself. Of course, he had no talent or desire for swordplay, so that was only natural. He would even sometimes hear them plot about being each other or playing a prank on their foster mother or one of their servants. He wondered if now he would hear them talk of Locke. Hear Jude talk about the color of his eyes and feel of his skin. Would she lay out intimate details of locking her lips on that creature that would soon betray her once deemed too boring? Would Locke steal her sweet virginity only to throw the shame back in her face and tell her that she is lacking both in personality and pleasure? That is what Locke does. He plays with people. Even so, he would play people for Cardan's sake, but the prince was sure that some of the fox's musings had been against him as well, all for the sake of some stupid story. The fox always said that about his games. It makes for a good story.
At the same time, Locke threw the best parties, would get the best muscicians and would lavishly pay cooks for food well worth eating. He would enchant mortals to serve wine from their mouths and dance in circles the on beds of long grass or feed you whatever food you desire. Even if Cardan hated the things Locke did, he enjoyed losing himself to feast and drink until his thoughts dipped away and there would be nothing but confusion and someone's lips on his own and a hunger for something more than just the acceptance of anyone that would dare to love him. When he was lost to himself he didn't care that no one loved him and most the time when he was lost, people would throw themselves at him in pure ecstasy and even if he didn't care, he supposed it was the closest thing to love that he might be able to feel.
Tomorrow he would do something about it. He would look down at her and remind her that all she is to him is a mortal. A sweet, delicious, little mortal that he was sure should she ever touch him, her touch would be domineering. Of course, he would leave most of that out because there was no point in ever telling her such things. She, that hates him, will always hate him. She who would dare not hide her wretched gaze that has proven just how weak he truly is.
"Are you even listening to me?" Nicasia questioned and Cardan threw a glance at her. He didn't look quite himself and Nicasia definitely noticed it, he looked concerned. It made her own heart skip a beat, fueling an idea that maybe she did still have a chance, however small it may be.
"Do you think I'm a terrible person, Nicasia?" He questioned which took her aback. She gazed at him with confused, narrow eyes before choosing her words carefully.
"Every now and again you do something horrible, but doesn't that show others that your not to be trifled with? You've saved human servants tricked into a life of slavery and brought the orphaned changelings feasts of food, you've done both equally wonderful and terrible things." She told him. His frown deepened. He knew where this was going, or so he thought.
"I think it balances out, your no more bad than you are good, Cardan." Nicasia finished explaining only for him to scrutinize her with his eyes. Silence hung in the air like a thick wool blanket that makes it hard to move. Nicasia couldn't help herself as she began to inch forward, closer and closer, bringing her lips to Cardan's, but when she was a breath away from his lips, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away gently.
"I think you should go." He finally stated. Nicasia's lip trembled at the implication.
"Cardan, tell me you don't love me, can you honestly say that?" She questioned. He gazed at her with regret in his eyes, but he must always be honest, all the fae must be for there is no choice in the matter.
"I love your friendship." He stated. Her eyes widened as if in horror.
"I do not love you the way that you want me to." He finally admitted. How could he love her? How could he when he trusted her with his heart, thought she was different from all the others, but she proved him wrong and crushed it thoroughly, as though with mortar and pestle until there was no more romantic love for her in his heart. She is lucky to still be his friend, but the thought of kissing her... It made his blood boil, she turned him away for a player of a fox. Did she herself ever really love him? She can say it well enough but he can't help but wonder, does she truly know what the word means? Then his thoughts returned to Jude. Even if the mortal girl didn't know what love truly is, she surely knew hatred and anger just as he did. Pathetic as he might feel for it, he admired her for it. Her angry eyes and harsh words were her only indication, but it was there. She didn't act out as he did. Of course, she was no princess, but she did not go out of her way to get one over on anyone. It was only when someone paid a mind to harming her that she would cleverly get back at them. Revenge seemed to be her only comfort. Revenge was in a way his only comfort too. Now she was with Locke though, if what Nicasia said is true. Now she would never have him although she wouldn't have before, but Nicasia was right... How could any mortal say no to Locke? Once he breaks her heart there will be no chance and she will likely hate the idea of even having a heart in the first place.
Cardan let out a sigh. He knew if he said something to Locke it would make it worse, but he couldn't help it. Yet, he couldn't help his anger that washed over him like a tidal wave closing over his head. Images of them rolling around in bed plagued his mind already, made it hard to breathe. He would tell Locke to stay away from her, he had to. The worst part was knowing his words would only worsen the problem and make the fox try harder. He would have to bite his tongue, but it was something he wasn't used to. He said what he wanted when he wanted, but what about when that is the one thing that will truly take your only last, selfish desire away from you?
His thoughts turned back to her look of pure hatred when he had tore the wing of that faerie boy. He was wrong to blame Locke for his inability to acquire her favor, for he had already done that for himself.