“My brother, Oak,” I tell him. “I’m not going to go into how, but he’s of the right bloodline. Your bloodline. He can wear the crown.”
Cardan frowns. “You’re sure?”
I nod. I don’t like telling him this before I ask him to do what I need, but there’s little he can do with the knowledge. I will never trade him to Balekin. There is no one to tell but Madoc, and he already knows.
“So Madoc will be regent,” Cardan says.
I shake my head. “That’s why I need your help. I want you to crown Oak the High King, and then I’m going to send him to the mortal world. Let him have a chance to be a kid. Let him have a chance at being a good king someday.”
“Oak might make different choices than the ones you want him to,” Cardan says. “He might, for instance, prefer Madoc to you.”
“I have been a stolen child,” I tell him. “I grew up in a foreign land for a far lonelier and worse reason than this. Vivi will care for him. And if you agree to my plan, I’ll get you everything you asked for and more. But I need something from you—an oath. I want you to swear yourself into my service.”
He barks out the same surprised laugh he made when I threw my knife at the desk. “You want me to put myself in your power? Voluntarily?”
“You don’t think I’m serious, but I am. I couldn’t be more serious.” Inside my crossed arms, I pinch my own skin to prevent any twitches, any tells. I need to seem completely composed, completely confident. My heart is speeding. I feel the way I did when I was a child, playing chess with Madoc—I would see the winning moves ahead of me, forget to be cautious, and then be brought up short by a move of his I hadn’t predicted. I remind myself to breathe, to concentrate.
“Our interests align,” he says. “What do you need my oath for?”
I take a deep breath. “I need to be sure you won’t betray me. You’re too dangerous with the crown in your hands. What if you put it on your brother’s head after all? What if you want it for yourself?”
He seems to think that over. “I’ll tell you exactly what I want—the estates where I live. I want them given to me with everything and everyone in them. Hollow Hall. I want it.”
I nod. “Done.”
“I want every last bottle in the royal cellars, no matter how old or rare.”
“They will be yours,” I say.
“I want the Roach to teach me how to steal,” he says.
Surprised, I don’t answer for a moment. Is he joking? He doesn’t seem to be. “Why?” I ask finally.
“It could come in useful,” he says. “Besides, I like him.”
“Fine,” I say incredulously. “I will find a way to work it out.”
“You really think you can promise all that?” He gives me a considering look.
“I can. I do. And I promise we will thwart Balekin. We will get the crown of Faerie,” I tell him heedlessly. How many promises can I make before I find myself accountable for them? A few more, I hope.
Cardan throws himself into Dain’s chair. From behind the desk, he gazes at me coolly from that position of authority. Something in my gut twists, but I ignore it. I can do this. I can do this. I hold my breath.
“You can have my service for a year and a day,” he says.
“That’s not long enough,” I insist. “I can’t—”
He snorts. “I am sure that your brother will be crowned and gone by then. Or we will have lost, despite your promises, and it won’t matter anyway. You won’t get a better offer from me, especially not if you threaten me again.”