A/N: I am lowkey obsessed with Cardan and would legit write all 3 books from his POV if I had anything like time.

I do not, so a few key scenes is all.

This is set after Jude and the Bomb go to seek the antidote from Balekin in Wicked King, and Cardan waits for their return anxiously

Cardan listens to Jude's footsteps as she disappears down the hall and then retches once more into his bucket. There is nothing for him left to do but stay there in the room until she returns, vomiting up leaves and trying not to die.

He wonders if Jude would miss him if he died.

He groans, partly with the effects of the poison and partly with the utter lunacy of being about a thing like that when he is facing death.

Priorities, High King of Elfhame. Sort them out.

But there is a stronger feeling inside him, the same one that made him risk everything to get her back from the Undersea, which reminds him that she is his priority. She has been for a long, long time.

He retches again, his body on fire. He wonders how she felt, seeing him like this. Was she disgusted?

He wished he was stronger. Usually he doesn't mind the fact that she is better than him in almost every regard, but not right now. He wishes he could be the one riding off to face his brother.

I swear, Balekin, if you hurt her, I will become the murderer you tried to make me. I will end you.

But he wouldn't condemn Jude to this slow death, either. It would kill him to watch.

The door opens. He's too sick to look up. His vision is blurred, distorted. Someone is pressing something to his lips, commanding him to drink. Jude? His heart murmurs hopefully.

He guzzles, the liquid sliding down his throat like ice. He chokes and splutters, but the burning inside subsides. His stomach starts to settle. It still hurts, but he's not dying. He slumps back down as his vision returns.

Not Jude. The Bomb.

"Your Majesty," she says.

"Jude," he whispers, his voice hoarse, "where's—" He tries to stand up, but his legs buckle underneath him. He smacks the ground. The Bomb heaves him up, steering him back to the couch.

"Steady," she says. "She's just finishing up. She's right behind me—"

"No. No. Go back to her—"

"She wouldn't like that. She didn't want me leaving in the first place—"

"Screw what Jude wants!" he hisses, struggling upright again, "I want—" I want her safe. I want her here. I want—

I want her.

"Careful, your majesty. People will start to think you like her."

Cardan glares, wondering how obvious he's made his feelings, wondering if Jude knows and if he wants her to.

"I am your king, Liliver," he says instead, "and I command you—"

There's a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," the Bomb says, hurrying to answer it. "I'm afraid the king is indisposed at the moment and can't—"

The door opens. A guard mutters something to the Bomb, and her gaze darkens. "An emergency," she says, turning back to Cardan. "I'll deal with it. Stay here. The Queen will be back soon."

The Queen. "I'd forgotten you call her that," he says, at the same time thinking. The Queen. I like the sound of that.

The Bomb looks at him painfully, an expression that speaks volumes. She certainly knows. "Wait for her. She'll be here soon."

I can only hope so, although he also hopes he's less of a sorry sight by the time she returns. He should get rid of the bucket, now that the retching has subsided.

"Cardan," says a voice.

He looks up. Jude is there, even more spectacular than usual now that she's back in her usual garments. She's never looked better, it's like she's glowing.

It's probably just a side effect of the poison.

Or a side effect of his heart.

She's fine, she's safe, she's not hurt.

"Jude," he whispers, unsure if he's able to hide the reverence of his voice. He makes towards her, but his legs buckle underneath him.

Jude runs forward and drops him towards the couch. He breathes her in in the split moment before she darts to the side. He really must be a sight.

She doesn't smell right, but that's probably just his senses sliding back to normal.

"You're all—"

"We don't have time," she says briskly, with the severity he's always known her for. He can count the times he's seen her smile, fit on one hand when she's done it towards him. Still, a little softness wouldn't go amiss right now. He did nearly die. "I have a plan. Madoc needs to take half the army. But for him to function independently, I need him to be free of his vows to the crown." She stares at him, as if waiting for a disagreement, an argument of some sort.

A warm feeling spreads through him. He realises she's not giving him a command. She's letting him choose. His heart flips. She trusts me.

It's almost better than kissing her.

Almost.

Come here, he almost prays. Sit beside me. Why are you so far away?

He can think of many reasons, but he doesn't want to think of them.

"Jude––" he starts.

"We don't have time. Please."

He isn't used to please. He likes it. He reaches out and takes her hand. "Anything for you, my sweet seneschal."

Is he imagining things, or is Jude blushing? She tugs on her earrings.

"I… I need to go. I must tell Madoc."

"Jude––"

"Yes?"

"Will you come back?"

Jude looks flustered, another look he's not used to. "Anything for you, my king."

The flash of a smile, barely there, not coy or playful or even cruel.

But it is a smile from Jude, and he will take it.

A/N: There you have it! Anyone want some more Cardan scenes? Hit me up with requests and shameless flattery.