Villainess Of Hearts

When the Queen of Hearts arrived back into her quarters—it was there that she found herself getting peace and quietness at last. After a long day filled with work and her evening full of troubles, she could finally get some rest. The woman plopped down to her chair and rubbed her face, staring into the mirror.

'It is night at last and it's time to go to bed.'

She took in her features, the sheen of her pale yellow hair that fell over her shoulders and the red hue in her eyes. She clasped her hands on her cheek and pursed her lips, there was some darkness underneath her eyes. "It seems like the stress is taking a toll on me—but still beautiful."

Yes, when she looked at herself in the mirror it would be the time that she assured herself of that.

'The moon looks bright, no tears are to be shed.'

Rosalyn Lockhart took out a jar of cream from the drawer in her dresser and slathered some of it on her face. She took extra care to put more underneath her eyes without any actually getting into it. Perhaps a glass of warm milk might have done her some good?

She wanted to ask for a servant and get it for her but it was already past dinner time and most were already heading back to their own chambers or homes. It was time for rest. But if her Knight had been here then surely he would have gotten her the desired drink to quench her thirst.

And yet he was busy.

Preoccupied rather for once with dinner. She could hardly imagine what kind of event would occur when one had all four of them together, and it continued to amuse her until right now. She rubbed the back of her neck, rubbing out the knots in it and then decided to rub in some more of her cream on her neck and even chest.

Some ease flooded into her chest.

These little things were able to calm and soothe her nerves, a little ritual before one actually fully retired for the night. She then reached for her hairbrush, the pale white colored brush engraved with silver linings. She ran it through her hair and carefully did her best not to entangle her locks in it, without a second thought she opened the music box and hummed along to the music.

'One hundred strokes and brushes, no more and no less. Enough to make a young lady into a princess.' Memories slipped through her mind under this less guarded moment, but then it was over—she had finished brushing till a hundred and it was finally time for bed.

The Queen, no longer a child, but perhaps not fully an adult either retreated to her mattress and laid her head to rest. Erasing the little questions asked about how a tiny pea could make a lady in her bed uneasy. Rosalyn Lockhart shut her eyes and focused on the darkness and solace it offered.

And she would soon drift off, yes, drifting off to sleep.

Would it be better that she had slept a dreamless night rather than one full of mystery?

. . .

Rosalyn Lockhart stared down at the crystal lake at the edge of it and caught in a rapture. Its deep blue allure called out to her, tantalizing so as to reach out and touch it—for the waters offered rest and rejuvenation, a sanctuary for her to finally rest. 

One no longer needed to thirst once they drank of it.

Yes, it was what the waters had whispered in their tiny bubbles that gurgled across its surface but she had been looking at something else entirely.

When the young woman glanced down—she saw hair of gold and eyes of sapphire jewels. A beautiful young woman wearing strange clothes, some kind of white top with short sleeves and pants worn by men? The look of it was almost enough to make her blink and seize back from the rapture she was in for how strange it was.

It was the most peculiar sight and even the black thing draped across her shoulder was the weirdest. It looked like some oversized pouch with strings to carry along her back. Perhaps it was similar to how the creatures in the Kingdom of Spades with the humps across their back carried the burdens of its masters?

The sound of waters dropping from the skies and meeting with the waters in the lake was enough to soothe her back into a state of calm. She would not admit it but the girl reflected was a beautiful girl, perhaps even more so than her. The way her eyes were sapphires could spellbound someone.

Even if the lips of the girl were tugged down in a frown, her forehead creased together—one twitch of those pink lips into a smile was enough to enchant someone if they so wish. Perhaps even without any need for guile. Was she a nymph? Or a faerie? A goddess?

The answer was so close to her own lips but so far away as well.

But perhaps if she touched the water and reached out for it—perhaps one cup of water in her hands was enough to jog her memory? And it was surely cool wasn't it? Cool, fresh and rejuvenating as water was always was and is always will be. 

Rhetorics. Semantics. 

The woman shook her head, it was always too hard to think too much. She always received something terrible if she got one question wrong. And yet even that seemed so far away.If she drank and refreshed herself then she would no longer need to worry.

And what were even the burdens on her own shoulder? 

The woman pondered it and came to nothing, and she sought for answers but found none. She could hardly recall it, unlike the reflection of the girl with something on her shoulder and that furrowed look on her face—compared to her, she was weightless, boundless and free.

Water rained down from the heavens but not one drop fell on her, all of it was falling down to this beautiful lake. It was a little unfair, she was thirsty too.. The sound of gurgling and bubbling droned in her ears, just one taste and it would be enough.