Villainess Of Hearts

Rosalyn Lockhart kicked out the pesky Prime Minister away from the kitchen in record's time before turning back to the golden haired woman at work. She was preparing her roseberry tarts and tea as usual, there was nothing amiss now. Everything was back in their proper place. And yet she couldn't ease the pulsing of her chest and the rising of her nerves. Blyke Edelweiss had seen her and was struck foolish by Mary Ann's appearance. She could already tell the tale had already been spun, soon enough the threads would finally be woven together—

It just gave her much more trouble than anything else at this moment.

She chewed on her bottom lip, tried not to ball her hands into fists. She had to be rational about this matter. There was nothing strange about that puny man being interested in a young woman that… was perhaps lovely. The Queen of Hearts stared at the blonde girl preparing her tea. The image of Alice flickered perfectly in Mary Ann's place, a small bottle filled with 'drink me' switching with the servant pouring tea into her cup. Would she give in to her worries and have this woman beheaded?

She was the Queen—she could do anything.

The woman gritted her teeth and turned away from Mary Ann, she began to walk out of the kitchen. She cursed Blyke Edelweiss in her mind for even coming here, for the King of Hearts, that bastard Alexander Hartsmichdt for even intruding into her personal affairs. She hated it—

"Your Majesty?" A soft voice called for her.

Rosalyn Lockhart stopped in her tracks, staying silent for a moment. She didn't turn back and refused to say anything else. She had been patient wasn't she? The Queen of Hearts had already let Catherine Duke stay as her friend, chosen to be more benevolent when they called for her first so why was...

"Shall I deliver the tarts to your office—"

"Have someone else bring it to my room after you've finished preparing it." She curtly told them and walked away. She began to move faster, frantically paced across the hallway until she paused and clutched her chest. She was heaving as she shut her eyes and promptly recalled the blood in her hands last night—it was a dream.

"Your Majesty are you alright—"

"Shut up!" She opened her eyes and snapped at the person in front of her. A soldier stood frozen and annoyingly so. He wore the insignia of Hearts, he was a soldier or a guard of the castle. She glared at him, "Get out of my sight if you wish to live! I'll have you beheaded—"

Soldier or not. The man scampered away past her and she realized that he may have been passing by to get some food in Mary Ann's kitchen. Mary Ann and not Alice. She squeezed her chest for a moment and stumbled out of the corridor once again, she tasted bitterness in her mouth.

She had been doing a little bit better in this life of hers now and yet she still had been eaten up by her anger. It was annoying, frustrating as she held a hand over her forehead… she took in a deep breath and exhaled. Everything was going smoothly wasn't it? So why was she… so weak. She hated herself at that moment.

She couldn't control everything.

How could someone like Alice just waltz her way through here and take away everything from her? The Queen of Hearts's eyes stung in this moment as she carried herself back to her room. Rosalyn Lockhart stumbled back into one of her chairs in defeat. She had managed to hold up for how many days now? Three? Four? Five days?

She gazed at her room, the Queen of Heart's chambers and she wondered if the time she had been exiled—that vixen had taken custody of this room? Another boil of anger bubbled in her chest that was quickly washed over by time and tiredness. She couldn't keep… doing this. Rosalyn Lockhart had the urge to hit her head against the wall and stopped.

There was only one reason for this… little outburst.

In the span of things in her previous time, this was quite mild, she'd broken vases and upturned tables before—and this was small, tiny and yet she couldn't place this down as mild either. This was still a horrible thing to experience and so the Queen of Hearts retreated to her bed and fell flat on it as if a rag doll she had thrown into her dollhouse when she was younger.

She was tired and feeling sick.

And that was not a painted lie this time around, she was feeling sick—perhaps not physically, though that may also be the case, she was just… having a bad day? Now that was the maddest thing she had heard. She huffed and burrowed her head underneath her pillows. Not getting enough rest was terrible, and yet it was barely some hours after breakfast, just a bit more until lunch. Would it be alright for her to wallow here?

Did the Queen even need to ask permission?

She bit back a sigh and shut her eyes. A few minutes of resting, maybe an hour would be alright? And she would get back to her duties and then take care of the matter about Chesire? But hadn't she already given the paper… no, she hadn't been able to give it to Mary Ann because of that damn Prime Minister. And once again another fuel of anger burst and quickly died down.

Perhaps she could postpone it until later—

"A cat nap, purrhaps?"

The Queen of Hearts raised her head from underneath her pillows and soon met face to face with Chesire on her bed. Well not precisely on her bed. The man was floating above her bed's headboard and leaning towards her, there was a grin on his face. Somehow, despite her grieving and pain, this person had the nerve to look pleased with himself.

She smacked his head with a pillow.

Chesire promptly fell face-first into her bed with a loud thump. Rosalyn Lockhart sighed a bit and felt her chest ease up. That had actually helped her feel a bit better and so she proceeded to thwack his head again, "Do you have no sense of privacy? This is my chamber and I would have your head for this." 

She hit him in the head for the third time—until the man nabbed her pillow away from her.

"Mercy, Your Majesty!" He hit her in the head.

And she blinked for one moment and stared at him agog. "T-This is…" They had hit her in the face without any sense of self-preservation. The man only grinned at her and she reached for her pillow and hit him—or rather thin air. The man was floating above of her, only gripping the pillow in his hands.

He simply chuckled, "What's the matter, Your Majesty? Cat got your tongue?"

"You mock me!" She threw her pillow at him and watched him duck it with grace in the air. And once again he had the nerve to grin at her, challengingly or mockingly. Either way, Rosalyn Lockhart eyed the other pillows on her bed and reached for them as she stood up and smacked him across the face.

Or rather she wished she did.

She huffed at him and proceeded to sit back down on her bed. Wasn't she tired? Why was she itching to hit him again in the face it was doing wonders for her temper and mood. And yet out of the entire floors of the Castle of Hearts, she eyed him skeptically, "How did you manage to get into my room? Did you by chance happen to find me?"

"If you do not know where you're going, then it doesn't matter where you go to—you'll reach somewhere, Your Majesty." He answered her with a purr.

Rosalyn Lockhart frowned at him and pondered about his words, "So you haven't had a clue where you were and simply went somewhere and it happened to be here." How much of that was coincidence and how much of it was luck?

"I can't know everything." He gave her a shrug and settled back on the floor, although a bit waringly so—he eyed her and tossed the pillow back into her bed. "No one does play fair if they think they can get away with it."

The Queen of Hearts decided to stay silent for a moment as she grabbed for her pillow and fluffed it, "I do hope that no fur comes across this."

"You mock me, Your Majesty! My fur is quite fine," He replied and flicked his tail and looked around the room, "It is a pity however that I did not stumble into another kitchen."

Rosalyn Lockhart kept her face blank—this cat person was searching for food. So she had been right about her decision of looking for more milk and fish, "And I would have made you clean it up all the same if you were to make a mess like last time."

"Er… now that would have been bad." Chesire's ears flattened as his lips tugged down into a frown. Perhaps the only time she would see this happen for a grinning cat person. "I only did it last night because you threatened to cut my tail off."

She waved a hand at him and bit back a smile, "And that is only because you argued about the chances of success with your head, of course I would go for the tail." Having a conversation like this once in a while wasn't so terrible....