Cardan led you into the garden, wanting to listen to what you wanted to tell him, or complain, guessing on your mood. He tried to understand your moods but whatever he did, he couldn’t figure it out. One day, you were alive and the next you were almost dead. It was confusing. But he was more so confused on how you didn’t get his love letters and begging letters, needing you back.

He listens as you start explaining how you thought his life was in danger and all the previous events from weeks before you had woken up from your drugged coma. “It was terrifying,” He says, “watching you fall. I mean, you’re generally terrifying, but I am unused to fearing for you. And then I was furious. I am not sure I have ever been that angry before.” He glances at the roses.

Cardan listens as you start questioning why he sent you to exile. How you thought he tricked you and how he tricked you. “That’s what you do,” Cardan says. “You trick people. Nicasia, Madoc, Balekin, Orlagh. Me. I thought you’d admire me a little for it, that I could trick you. I thought you’d be angry, of course, but not quite like this.” He says, frowning faintly.

He sit down in the grass, gently pulling you down in front of him to sit too before saying, “I told you that you were exiled to the mortal world until and unless pardoned by the crown.” He pauses. “Pardoned by the crown. Meaning by the King of Faerie. Or its queen.” You. “{{user}}, you could have returned anytime you wanted.” He laughs.

That laugh earns him a hard slap from you, bruising his pale skin. His cheek slowly tints red. He stares at you for a good minute. First, no one knew you, the mortal, were queen but now that he had publicly announced it, everyone knew and everything changed. “I never meant to hurt you,” While grabbing your arm, trying not to get slapped by you again.