Villainess Of Hearts

Number One. Number Two.

Her Majesty of Hearts, the Queen of the Spring Kingdom, saw people as nothing but mere numbers—even those of the Noble Houses were unable to escape such a perception. And yet if there was something he could infer from her method of communicating with him—she may have smiled and interacted with them pleasantly.

'Thank you for your information about this matter. You shall be rewarded for your services as usual.

-R.L.H'

And yet, in the back of her mind, they were probably replaceable. Numbers that could be replaced if the need has arised. Even those words she wrote could have been said to anyone else. It was mere courtesy to say such words, but even the way she addressed herself spoke about proper address.

Rosalyn Lockhart-Hartsmichdt.

She would use the last name of the King as it was appropriate. But if he had any guesses, and it was a strong one—a woman like her would not love the King. It was all a matter of circumstances.

Yes, that was what he thought.

Seated in his office, isolated from the majority of the kingdom, he hunched over his table and wrote with his quill. The necessity to provide even more information was substantial—she hadn't exactly contacted him since his last submission, but there was no doubt that he needed to keep reporting or else she would send out her Knight to root him out. 

Lorie. Marius. Eris. Hawthorne.

A few of the good number of the Nobility Houses in the Kingdom of Hearts. He flicked out his tongue for a moment, concentrating on penning down things in the matter of importance. Dark green hair shaded over his eyes, he pushed it back and clicked his tongue. Each one of them had done something questionable, and yet all of them were already on their way to the Castle of Hearts. Had they no shame? Even he, a simple commoner, could tell when they were messing things up in ruling over their kingdom. 

But what only mattered right now on the surface was their contribution. He needed to gather more information to portray their incompetence. Surely if there was anything that they have done that would trouble the Kingdom—then they would be cut off. If they had grown useless, traitorous or even became they disliked, they could be gone.

Digging out such information was fun, and it was as if he held power by proxy.

"If the Lorie and Eris House continue with their so-called friendly ties and with their lands neighboring one another—their current military might could counter the Castle's. Even more so if they work together with another House." He leaned back against his chair and sighed aloud. 

Being part of a Noble House was not truly safe even from the Queen's wrath—it could only afford so much protection. He was aware of that, and he still did her bidding. His gaze focused on the communication device between them, the pages of the notebook were spread out open. And compared to his scrawling—notes he'd write while during espionage. Hers was meticulous and neat.

Each stroke of her quill was made with precision and grace.

He thumbed over the notebook; it was a little scandalous to say that despite never having met her in person once in his entire time of serving her—he could tell a lot about from the way that she requested his services. And yet saying such a thing would get his head cut off if someone were to hear of it.

"Hah..." 

All of this was almost enough to make him a little enamored, but also afraid of such a ferocious lady. Excitement in his life, what more could he ask for? He was paid well for such services. If he so wished, he could have ended the contract long ago and let another small fry investigate for her. Those two idiots could use a job, didn't they?

But he didn't quit immediately, for the line of work was enthralling and his client was interesting to decipher at times. 

Informant Blake Landrigan could say he did all of this for the Queen's sake, and it was only appropriate that he would fight until the end—he especially served those who held the book of the Nobility. The true heirs to the Houses. And yet in this time and age, the Houses had grown fat and lazy, content with their wealth and indulgence.

It was why he wanted to see them face the consequences of their actions. A candle burned and flickered on the table.

Could he really remove it?

He shut his eyes as he heard the loud thumps of boots over his head that rattled his roof. There was only so much he could do until he would eventually get caught, his own luck running out. Akin to a lizard that may have bitten off its tail before—eventually the time would come where its short stump would no longer be enough to lose people hunting down after him.

"We found him!" a muffled voice shouted.

He had made sure to keep his tracks close—but did they have some dog? He looked at the only exit at his small cubbyhole. If they wished to bury him here alive, then they would do it, undo the shafts and structures with relative ease…

But another thing happened entirely.

The clouds seeped in his underground house, almost so faint at first that he didn't even notice. Were they going to smoke him out? He grabbed a hold of his hood and placed it over his mouth and gritted his teeth. It had already begun to remove the air and made it even more difficult to breathe. He might have evaded and eluded if he were some place else and they were on the hunt but not in his own unguarded territory.

Above him, he could hear a voice.

Everything around him blurry, and almost as if he was affixed into a state of delusion. The voice came from everywhere and nothing at once. "Did you think that you would be able to sneak into our lands undetected? The other Houses may be sloppy, but you cannot do that here. Kneel."

Thump.

Thump.

His blood bursted through his veins, a quick agony seizing his lungs. The fire continued to burn brightly—throw it. Cast it aside and reduce everything to flames.

That was what he was supposed to do. His vision focused and unfocused. There had been times where he thought he would get captured and had even prepared a speech that would sound like this: He had nothing to say about the Queen—he was only following what he had grown up to to survive.

Yes, information-gathering and espionage was the art of his trade. He served the highest bidders, and it so happened that out of all those who held power—it was her who had a swift blade that could strike him down.

And yet this one event was unexpected. The sound of the door crashing erupted, and he seized his notes and clung to it to his chest—he could stain it with his blood if they killed him.

A foot dug into his back.

Terrible pain racked over his body, sending tremors all throughout his head to the soles of his feet. Was there such a thing like loyalty? He was only doing his job. He gritted his teeth. He didn't think that this would occur. Thinking about it was different from it actually happening.

Lie. Steal. Cheat. Survive.

. . .

There might be things that would give the King of Hearts some aching in his chest—but the first out of the many Nobility Houses would arrive. He sighed inwardly and glanced at the Prime Minister. He didn't even need to say anything as the man responded.

"Her Majesty is currently asleep, Your Majesty. A servant had seen the Queen return to her chambers—the exhaustion of watching over her Knight must have finally affected her."

"Good, let her sleep." he sighed and rubbed his face. It was ridiculous that he would be uneasy at this point for such an incident happening—the royal court was crazy, and especially such a man would do something reckless as it is. It didn't sit too well with Alexander. The same thoughts had plagued him before, but he would live.

And there were more important things for him to handle. It was up to him to meet the incoming guests then. And yet there was a hint of tension in him, "Has there been any news with regard to the King of Spades?"

"All letters are given to the Queen—" the man started, but then he coughed, "Their Official Delegate, Highborn Lucielle Cyan speaks of a delay, some matters occurring in their Kingdom and other neighboring ones."

"Hah, I see. Thank you." It was also even more ridiculous that he was relieved of the sudden change of plans. But it was only because of the current state of the Lockhart House… a sense of unease started in his chest. "Blyke…?"

"What is it, Your Majesty?"

"You never actually mentioned…" No, there was no time to point fingers at his only closest ally.. "The Lockhart House seems like the House to hold grudges, doesn't it?" He was already speaking from experience here, and it made him uneasy to meet another.