Villainess Of Hearts

The Hatter finally accepted her offer for breakfast, and in less than an hour, it was time for them to have their breakfast. All of them were in Her Majesty of Heart's drawing room and there were six of them right now. Rosalyn Lockhart was seated down and tried not to flinch as Mary Ann placed the tray of breakfast down for them. "Your Majesty, your tea."

"Mhmm, thank you." Rosalyn Lockhart glanced down at the deep red tea and could see the crystallized sugar swirling in it. The young woman had already understood her taste in tea. Inwardly sighing, she picked up the teacup and was quick to sip—she didn't need to wait for it, and she wouldn't wait for the others.

She was currently accompanied by more people than she was used to.

But they were far better guests than the other Queens could. Nicholas the Hatter, Mallory the Dorm Owner and Harold… she wasn't exactly sure what the man did, but he was part of the trio that made up the three individuals of the tea party… tea party group? At least with how much delight they were having in tea.

Nicholas Hatter was seated on her left and on her right was Julius Ginellevé, no other person in sight. Rosalyn Lockhart wondered where the Chesire was—but it didn't seem like they were the type that one could invite into gatherings at whim.

Chesire arrived whenever he wished.

And so this was her crowd. What was happening in the Court Trial, of assassins and snakes in the gardens—they were all background. She tried to place them in the background as she tried to think of something to say. It wasn't only sufficient to befriend the Hatter, didn't it? Well, she still wasn't positive on how far their friendship could go, but befriending his other two friends were one way to increase her presence and importance in the man's life, didn't it?

"Hmm… there's no biscuits and cheese here?" Mallory was unafraid of speaking out of her preferences. She was giving the roseberry tart a suspicious look.

It made Rosalyn Lockhart cough, but she turned to Mary Ann, "Please serve them whatever they wish—my palate doesn't suit everyone here, of course. Thank you." Somehow, she never forgot to add the word 'thank you' as she addressed the blonde woman serving them.

"A-ah, of course, Your Majesty." Mary Ann was quick to bow. "Is there anything else I can get for you, Miss?"

"I'm good… er, um, you don't happen to have any carrots do you?"

Rosalyn Lockhart raised a brow, "Carrot cake?"

"No, just carrots, Yer Majesty," Mallory answered with a smile. She scratched her cheek, "Even unsliced ones, Harold likes them."

"I see, fresh carrots then, Mary Ann." Rosalyn Lockhart nodded. She silently eyed Harold and found the man was quick to avert his gaze from hers. Her reputation was still blossoming, wasn't it? She then turned to the Hatter—

Mary Ann glanced at Nicholas, "What about you, Mister Hatter?" 

The man's eyes widened slightly before he waved a hand. "I'm fine too, the tea is wonderful. Thank you, Miss...Miss Mary Ann was it?" A gracious smile tugged on the man's lips as he inclined his head and picked up his teacup.

Rosalyn Lockhart couldn't hide the twitch she felt sprung up from her hand. She knew that Mary Ann wasn't Alice but the familiar strings of… concern and franticness sprang up within her as she threw a look at Mary Ann. The two of them wouldn't get close or anything like that, would they?

"Ah, yes, Mister. I'll bring a fresh batch of tea then," Mary Ann was quick to bow her head, prompt and polite. She then turned to the remaining guest, "U-uh...is there anything I can bring you, Sir Ginellevé?"

The man's amethyst eyes flickered to the young woman, "Nothing." His voice was brusque and nothing else was added to it. The Knight didn't even say a word of thank you.

Rosalyn Lockhart didn't know what to feel. It was in these few instances that she truly understood that people were able to change—the soft and sweet Julius was probably still there but to everybody else? This terrible front was given.

Although it was quite useful for intimidation and striking fear into an enemy's heart.

. . .

A soft sigh escaped the Joker's lips as the trial was dismissed. He couldn't help but admit that he certainly did miss his own trial judgements in Card Trials, but now wasn't the time to reminisce about it—the current winners were still alive after all. He tucked his hand underneath the chin as he watched the people dispersing.

He wasn't sure who to feel bad for the most.

Would he pity the King of Hearts who tried to do something right and received a negative outcome? Or should he feel sorry for the King of Spades getting dragged into this when all they did was something out of admiration? Or perhaps he should feel bad for another King. Yes, there was something he should feel about now. He could feel it in his bones.

The Joker eyed the King of Diamonds still affronted by the Queen of Heart's comment about the necklace and felt a twitch play on their lips. The hammer was still on his hand and he had the slight urge to throw it at them. But no.

Maybe not that King.

He was supposed to feel sorry as a Judge for the people involved in this case. Although when he glanced at the King of Clovers, the man was unperturbed so there was nothing to feel sorry about either. And so it only left one King, one person who considered themselves as mistreated. It was a silly affair, but the Joker didn't care that much as he finally stood up.

The King of Spades with his Queen and Delegate was still speaking together, and he could already see those of Diamonds and Clover leaving promptly. Yes, perhaps it was of the Hearts that he should feel sorry for—their reputation was in tarnish because of this? 

Well, they were always able to get back up on their feet. The Joker stopped beside the King of Hearts and smiled, "That slap must have hurt, didn't it?" Out of a little respect, he kept his voice low, low enough that it was the only two of them who could hear it.

"...." The King of Hearts didn't say a thing.

As soon as the Queen of Hearts left, they were almost rendered catatonic that even he felt sort of bad. Truly. A tiny bit. The Joker flicked a wrist, "If it weren't for me here, who knows what could have happened more?"

The King of Hearts still remained silent.

"I think the Queen of Hearts has a good relationship with the King of Spades, doesn't she?" He rubbed his chin and tried getting a reaction from them. "Receiving a dagger, but you mistaking it as the weapon used to kill her—ah, it's all a little rookie's mistake perhaps?"

"...Maybe I just wanted to see it like that."

Rosswall lifted a brow, a sombre smile tugged on his lips. "Pray tell explain what you mean by that?"

"It was all confirmation bias. I wanted to believe that it was the King of Spades who did it and so all the evidence that I saw led to him…" Alexander rubbed his face, "If you'll excuse me, I think I need some time alone."

The Joker pressed his lips together but then nodded, "Take all the time you need, Your Majesty."

"Don't call me that."

"Very well, then, Alex." A chuckle escaped the Joker's lips. Some things were now making a little more sense and that simply interested him to wait for a little while longer. 

. . .

It was a fine summer-like day, or spring if one wished to compare it to that as the gentle rays of the sun-blessed the earth. The gentle air breezed through its surroundings, filling everything with the fragrance of ever-blooming roses. The essence of Spring, Growth and Abundance nestled within the land and it was cultivated bountiful and plentiful—everything was green and growing, blooming and bursting with life. And so it was in a Castle where it happened, where a man sat on the throne surrounded by all of its brilliance and glory.

There sat a King.

"Y-Your Majesty!" One of the servants bowed lowly to the man seated on the throne. "Y-Your guest is here." The servants declared it as the doors to the Throne Room opened. The brightness of the Throne Room was consumed with a cloud of evanescent smoke, aroma filled the throne room of pleasant scents.

Myrrh, frankincense and other sweet-smelling fragrances.

The smoke did not evaporate, it grew stronger and colours swirled within the smoke. Ever-changing and unconstant, a variety of hues and shades that feasted to one's senses—it struck a stark contrast to the brilliant white pillars that stood unrelenting. And finally, the shadow of a person appeared within the cloud.

Though whether they were part of the cloud or something that wrought it was questionable.

The man on the throne stayed silent and unfazed.

"Ah, Your Majesty." Another cloud of smoke blew through the King's face. The shadow finally gave away to the form of a man. With a long pipe, a hookah caught in between their fingers. A languid smile formed on their face, "I believe you've requested my presence?" 

Only a curt nod was the Royal's answer.

Another cloud of smoke was puffed from the man's mouth as a reply. "I see. We'll see what I can do, Your Majesty." Another languid sigh escaped their lips as they gazed around their surroundings. "It hasn't changed at all, did it?"

There was no reply from the man on the throne.

"Well, I have a feeling that they're still there." The hookah owner was still satisfied despite the lack of response and turned away, heading back to the exit. Somehow the smoke didn't dissipate until the man was finally gone, and it was there that the servant from earlier was then seen muttering to themselves.

Numerous fumes were enough to put them in that state.