He can’t believe his good fortune, can’t trace the path that got him here. They are two people who ought to have, by all rights, remained enemies forever. He cuts his gaze toward his unpredictable, mortal High Queen, whose wild brown hair is blowing around her face, whose amber eyes are alight when she looks at him. It’s not as though he doesn’t enjoy a little danger, just that he doesn’t gorge himself on it, unlike some people. “I suppose I would have plummeted out of the air,” Jude tells him with troubling equanimity, her expression saying, Horrible risks are entirely normal to me.Ĭardan has to admit that the ragwort steeds are swift and that there is something thrilling about tangling his hand in a leafy mane and racing across the sky. “ This is how you traveled? What if the enchantment ended while Vivi wasn’t with you?” This?” he demands, looking down at the waves far beneath them.
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