Villainess Of Hearts

Alexander Hartsmichdt was alone.

He was now all by himself in his own office and waiting room. The entire place was silent, and the man was just thoughtful and somber. Finally, he had chased out the Lady Eris from this place and now had time to think.

He rubbed his face tiredly and rested his head on his desk. "How do I get myself out of this mess?" 

It was like he had sunk into a bottomless abyss.

And yet this was his life. 

He even said words like 'he didn't want to return to his own world' as long as he became useful. The King of Hearts managed to save the life of the Lord Warth Duke. This was something he should have been proud of, or even just glad that he managed to do that.

And yet his work was far from over.

The tinctures currently placed on the table were two. One of them was the color red—blood of Warth Duke. And the other was white. The antidote he found amongst the belongings of the Royal Doctor Griphon.

"If I figure out who made this poison—who knows it, then I'll be able to trace it back to the producers  and then finally to the one who ordered it," he said aloud, to himself. It sounded easy, it really did.

He placed the black leather journal back on the table and sighed.

The King of Hearts ran his fingers idly over the journal—and then blinked. His eyes widened as something glowed and was traced over on the pitch black cover. First and foremost, it was the shape of a crown, heart and then a dragon.

"Magic?" Alexander asked. Or was this just some kind of design for the book? Small magic. At least that was how the lessons called this kind of magic now. Magic that was used to power up light orbs, help in the growth of plants and other things.

Small, conventional and functionable magic.

It was still available thanks to the stored magic in stones available in the mines of the Diamond Kingdom. But other than that… the rest of the magic was gone from the blood of men and others. Diluted until it was finally washed away save for the few.

Royals and Nobilities supposedly had a purer blood—what that meant.

Well, it just meant that there was still a predisposition that people who held the crown like him or had come from families that served the kingdom and land had magic running in them. Maybe it could have been seen in the way that the King of Spades was unconquerable during battle—as if a spell of protection had been laid out for him.

The King of Clover was said to be extremely lucky and got whatever he wanted in trades and all of that sort. Or maybe it was just some people controlling elements available in the world… as his suspicions once were.

He didn't want to point fingers—but the wind last night had been unnatural. Same went for the fire that sprung up everywhere in the labyrinth. Alexander had never got the chance to ask Rosalyn if she was under the protection of the fire.

"Maybe she doesn't trust me enough to tell me."

And yet he had revealed the entire history of his world. The truth of where he came from, of what had happened to him and she even knew what became of the people in the Card Trials thanks to the Joker, and she comforted him—honestly, he might have poured out the entirety of his soul to her in that hour. 

But she didn't trust him in the same way.

Captured his heart may be, for reasons even he couldn't completely understand when he did try to think about it. His heart paced and acted like some kind of teenager whenever he was with her… it was definitely not the same thing for her.

Disappointed, the King of Hearts glanced back at the journal and flipped the cover—only to find that the contents had changed. It had been emptied rather. Every note of the Doctor was gone and in parchment shone like pristine waters.

Even he didn't know what to take of it. Had he ruined the book? He ran his hand on the paper, and then watched it shift—golden letters stylistically embellishing themselves on the book.

'This is the living testimony of the agreement between the Kingdom of Hearts, its Rulers, the three other Suit Kingdoms and the Joker who was bound to oversee the rise and fall of the Kingdoms, but ensure its existence until the very ends of Time.

Greetings to His Majesty of Hearts.

The current King of Hearts… Hartsmichdt Family.

Ancestral Bloodline Pure

Living Members Less Than Five

Long Live To The Kingdom of Hearts Where The Flames Burns And Passion Grows Fervently'

"What…?" Alexander stared at all the information that he didn't know—well, he thought he knew. "Is this for real? Less than five… that's me, mother or father and then… sister?" The King of Hearts blinked and realized what he had been missing all this long.

He thought he remembered everything, but he didn't. 

"My sister—she's here, right?" He rubbed his face. It was the blueness in her eyes, the smile on her face and the way her blonde hair bounced and flowed as she laughed mockingly at him and begged for more money.

His little sister.

His younger sister.

The memory of it returned and it was like a key chamber in his mind was unlocked and finally released from everything holding it back. It was as if he felt a rush of golden energy sweep over him and all the worries and doubts he had faded away in that moment.

Alexander was reassured.

He felt… capable of actually handling this task that it was a little ridiculous. But the man looked down at the book. He wanted to find his sister. He wanted to save his kingdom—he wanted to be with his wife. All of them were various engagements he wished to attend to, and yet at the end of the day, the King was still but one man.

The King of Hearts had a feeling that his sister was safe—or else he wouldn't be feeling this triumphant. She was surely fine. He trusted that she was more than capable of handling herself because she had a good head on her shoulders.

Now what remained was his desire to be with his wife.

Alexander Hartsmichdt hadn't dared to use it before, quite aware of the arrangement of their marriage. It was a marriage of purpose, of convenience and of proper bloodline and breeding—of finding the most suitable Queen in the entire kingdom of Hearts to be his partner.

And yet the very moment he first laid eyes on her, it was almost like he loved her then and there. It was as if he had been reunited with a person he didn't know he was searching for all of his life. "Ridiculous, she'd slap me in the face if I say something like this and throw her tarts at me… well, she wouldn't waste any tarts. That's just how much she loves them."

Why did it feel like he had to compete with something like a pastry for attention?

He smiled and shook his head. He wanted to find her right now, pull her into his arms and hug her tightly—but he wasn't simply just a man filled with love right now. Alexander Hartsmichdt waas also a King and he pressed his hand once more on the book and said it. "Find me records of the Royal Doctor Griphon's poisons and antidotes."

Nothing happened.

Alexander wondered if he had gotten it all wrong, but when he removed his hand from the book—the pages flew all by itself like magic. This was magic. Primordial magic? Origin of it all? Magic of contracts and agreements? The King had no idea, but he knew this magic was of his.

It was of the King's.

The page finally showed what he wanted. Notes and recipes of the old man that had died. It truly was a strange thing to see numerous kinds actually appear and he wondered how much time had been spent in researching this. 

Listed down were names he didn't identify, some ingredients unfamiliar, but then there were those which were something one might have expected to come from a witch's cauldron. Frog feet and rat tails.

He read the effects listed and compared it to the symptoms encountered by Lord Warth Duke. Until he finally saw a small anecdote at the bottom of the page.

'List of Other Recipes, Creations done by Doctor Royal Griphon by proxy of his apprentices.'

Alexander sighed in relief. He didn't find anything akin to the poison that he encountered from the Doctor's own list of potions. He was relieved to know that the old man had nothing to do with this attack—only upset that a good man, someone who was well-informed had died.

Well-informed.

Someone who got their hands on this book.

The Doctor had never let him know that this book actually existed and it was rightfully his own to use. This book was meant for the King, no doubt. Alexander looked out the window and sighed. "Did he know that this book is a Royal's Book?" he asked himself for a moment. 

He didn't want to think ill of a man who was already dead.

Alexander shook his head. "He probably found it and secured it from the castle before the Jabberwocky attack and saw blank pages he started to fill in."