Villainess Of Hearts

The situation in the Castle of Hearts was in relatively good hands—no, the situation was actually shaky but not one would say it. There were a lot of problems hidden beneath the surface that had begun to take its place in the hearts and minds of everyone residing in it.

When Mary Ann wasn't busy baking and creating pastries for the Queen of Hearts, she was still expected to help other servants also doing their responsibilities. Most of it would occur in the servant's kitchen, but recently, she was being asked to help around in the kitchen meant to serve the King, Queen and their other guests.

And it was for that reason that she heard the news—a maid running into the kitchen.

There was a bewildered look on her face, "The Knight—!"

Now the actual number of Knights was more than one, each Noble Household employed numerous individuals to become part of their garrison and such, but in the Castle of Hearts, there was only one man known and referred more by his title than his name.

Julius Ginellevé.

Mary Ann didn't think that she would even dare consider the man's full name in her mind, but during the dinner that occurred last night—when the Joker had decided to include her as one of the dining guests, he had helped her how to dine properly. Somehow the Knight had amazing table manners, and even the way he cut through his meat was similar to the same precision that he might have done to deal with the King and Queen's enemies.

"What happened?" the Head Chef asked with an annoyed look on his face. The man was holding a tied lobster in his hand, currently declawed, it had come from one of the neighboring countries. He was too immersed with cooking to pay attention to nonsense gossiping.

"He's being treated by the Royal Doctor." the maid stammered, pale faced. "What if there are still assassins here? How would such a man be injured."

Her words were enough to change the atmosphere in the grand kitchen. It silenced the place. The assassins hadn't exactly hurt any of the servants, but even now it unnerved them. The security and safety of the palace was at risk… What exactly were the soldiers doing? Was there an intruder right now?

What about a traitor?

Some men and women left their posts after an interrogation with the Lord Warth Duke. The Lord still resided in the castle until today to hunt down for the ones who perpetrated such an event, quite convinced that there was some foul play at work.

And there were even rumors about two villages getting inside of the Castle with nothing but a spoon and fork. Now that seemed like hogwash, especially when rumors said that they fought the Knight of the Queen with those weapons but there were claims.

Now another thing happened.

The royal butcher placed down his knife and tried a laugh, "Nobody is able to lay a hand on the Knight, only he himself would be able to hurt himself. No assassin would have been able to sneak up on him—stop lying."

Julius was feared.

Mary Ann knew that, even now she still quivered at the thought of him. But was this really true? He was too strong to be conquered.

. . .

The Royal Doctor Griphon was silent, compared to his own ever so uncaring nature whenever it came to Rosalyn Lockhart's requests—he had worked with nothing but precision and efficacy in treating the man.

And now all the Queen could do was stare at the man on the white bed, unconscious and asleep. His eyelashes fluttered slightly, his breathing was shallow, a lock of his silver hair on his forehead. She resisted the urge to push it back and refused to touch him.

She had been looking for him and this was the state that he would find himself in.

There was a stinging in her eyes that she refused to consider. The Queen lifted her gaze momentarily upwards to the ceiling, willing tears to no longer appear and strike her for someone like him. Why would he do such a thing?

Was this her fault?

If she wasn't to die—then someone else would do it for her sake?

A bitter smile crossed on her face. When she had finished her tea with the Joker, she had sent Mary Ann away to do whatever tasks were required of her, she did try looking for him. And yet she considered the chances of him not wishing to be by her side any longer. She couldn't give him what he wanted—but she didn't think that he would go to these lengths?

Somehow, she would like to think that she understood this.

The pain? She could comprehend it. How much heartbreak did one need before doing this? Did he really think that this was the only option? She bit on her bottom lip, blood erupting from it. "This is unforgivable, how could you do this?" Rosalyn was talking to someone asleep.

"Your Majesty, please do not aggravate the patient." the Royal Doctor's voice suddenly said.

She glanced over her shoulder and realized that the old man was still there. Of course he was still here, this was his room. The place where he treated her, the King and other renown people if they came here. His potions and bottles of differently colored liquids hung on their shelves—he did not use them.

The blood loss was not something easily so recoverable.

"Leave."

"Pardon?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Leave me be, leave this place at once. I'll talk to him as I please—begone before I throw you out of here and strip you of your rank and honor."

The Royal Doctor stiffened but then bowed, the old man looked at her with a controlled look on his face. "As you wish, Your Majesty. But I implore you, in my understanding as a doctor that you do not—"

"You use the word implore but hide your orders behind them. Do not play tricks with me—go away now while I can still hold my temper."

It took him a minute before the Doctor finally left, the door clicking behind him. And now it was her and him alone. If it hadn't been for one of the available soldiers coming all the way in the hallway then she would have never been able to bring him here. Bloodstains were evident in her gown but she refused to leave his side.

"What exactly had run through your mind?" she asked. A heaviness settled in her chest. The situation in this time right now wasn't the best—at least she thought that things could be better. It would have been much better if the people that loved Alice were now declaring their love for her or dead, or better yet didn't exist at all.

But for her own Knight to incur injuries on himself.

This infuriated her. She didn't want to suffer herself with this—and yet he had done it himself. He had inflicted it on himself. She hadn't even been able to fully see it, but it was only him that she had stumbled upon. And even when she had shouted, he did not respond.

Rosalyn Lockhart thought that she would lose him.

Even years ago, she was once afraid of losing him during the coup d'état—so many people had been lost at that time. And even he had changed after it. But now he was doing this? He had done this? She wished to punch him in the shoulder and complain about how unfair this was to her.

But this wasn't about her, this was about him.

She couldn't be that selfish with him.

Whatever had made a strong man like him give up, it stung her chest. One after another, he had emerged victorious during war, assassinations and other dangerous events for the past years. Why?

Her nails dug into her hand.

This was stupid, repetitive. It may have happened countless times already—but why? Why would he do this? Should she have done something else? What exactly was the reason for this? Things had been perfectly well between them. It wouldn't be because of the lack of intimacy between them, even prior to them consummating things—he had already loved her.

So why was he trying to end it all?

She stared at the man in bed and felt the sting finally return to her eyes. A part of her continued to think about this situation in an aloof manner—what she was losing now with him incapacitated and stuck to this bed. How her safety was possibly at risk with him now gone. And yet, hot tears dribbled down her cheeks regardless of her trying to take all of this in a distant way.

Why was he doing such a terrible thing by lying so lifelessly here?

He was no sleeping beauty, he would not wake up with a kiss. The man should get up and take her if he wanted her that much. But maybe even that was not the full reason? Rosalyn Lockhart thought she knew him like the back of her hand.

But she really didn't.