Villainess Of Hearts

Alexander was just Alex. The people who called him 'Alexander' only did that when he did something terrible. A good example of that was the time he got reprimanded when he didn't do well in his studies… and for those who called him 'Xander'—nobody but his mother called him that. And only his mother called him that.

But that was in the distant past.

The next thing he knew, he had blood on his hands. It was a crisp summer day, the soft breeze spread out the scent of roses and lavender, the labyrinthine maze encapsulated everywhere as far as one's eyes could see, and he had blood on his hands. Warmblood. Dark red blood. He never hated the color more than in this hour.

A figure behind him was shuddering and shaking as he stared at the blood with wornout and tired eyes. He had done it out of his own choice.

He couldn't hear his own heartbeat.

As the applause descended on them, he couldn't even hear the sound of thunder in his ears. Alexander Hartsmichdt could barely recall it. He was pulled here and there. Another bloodbath occurred, and it was because of his presence. It went on for a day or perhaps a year or so. The very man that wanted him dead was now defending his 'right' to the throne—and his only friend, the only other survivor was taken. 

Plucked out from his grasps. Taken to another land.

The moment he stepped into the Castle of Hearts, the sound of applause was all around him, and he… at least managed a smile for them. The people who didn't have power, the people who only watched—everyone's eyes were on him. Their attention was on him, and though all he wanted to do was give up and try to end it all… he didn't.

And then she came along.

Brought in by a carriage, the trumpets sounded loud, and he realized the cheers weren't as loud to the new arrival as it was to him. It was odd when this person was supposed to be a true Heart, much unlike him. Was this all yet another torture—bur the door finally opened, and she stepped out of it. Clad in her gown like a true princess straight out of a fairytale. 

Everything changed after that.

The scent of roses had never smelled so sweet in that hour, and his heart skipped a beat—and yet he didn't know what to do. What he was supposed to say, how he should have ought to act. He was incomparable to her, and she was immeasurable. Her Knight was always at her side, and he could never find the right words to say. And it continued until this very day.

—-

The taste of her lips was sweet, soft, and moist. But he didn't focus on that, because he couldn't focus on it when her pulse was rapidly going away, and the warmth of her body was growing colder by the minute. His hands on her chest hadn't worked when he pumped it. Chest compressions weren't working—and so he snatched the very first taste of her lips. 

It was mouth to mouth resuscitation. 

He could already imagine the amount of backlash he'd receive, but that didn't matter to him right now. What mattered was that she lived, and soon enough, the Queen of Hearts woke up. Rosalyn Lockhart's eyes fluttered open, and their eyes met. His lips were still on hers, and he stared into her eyes, and Alexander Hartsmichdt heard the familiar sound of a heartbeat.

It had always been there, but it was only on this hour that he heard it.

Not a simple heart-skip but a full-on ramming in his chest that he felt like it would explode if he were to say anything else in her presence. He… had managed to ignore it before. Going through his life through the cycles and motions that it brought him—doing them all as expected by everyone. 

But then he felt the beating in his chest, and it excruciated him, a mix of wonder and pain that sent him spiraling into this new world.

And it was all because of her.

.

.

.

And he had almost lost her. She was never his, but that didn't mean that he wanted her gone, and his heart had ached. He had always been the loser, rejected and torn from his loved ones—Alexander Hartsmichdt rubbed his face and controlled his breath. Now wasn't the time for complaining and bemoaning his state on the world.

What he ought to do was to do the right thing.

The dagger in his hand was light and well-crafted, a perfect weapon suitable to stab, slash, and cut through the heart. It was found lying blood-spilled at the Queen of Hearts' room that time and it was perhaps the only distinguishable weapon. 

The Trial of the Court was in session, and he sat on his throne. His heartbeat grew slower and colder, so slow that he couldn't feel it, but that was alright. It was only necessary at this hour as his gaze swept through the people gathered today. The King of Hearts was recognized as a weak man, in comparison to the Queen of Hearts.

If someone were to ask who was the man in the relationship—

There wasn't much of a relationship, to begin with, and so the question was void and nullified. The man doubted that the Queen of Hearts would give an answer either, and in this manner, both of them held the same opinion. It was unnecessary, and Alexander was only doing what he could and should.

Doing something like this would earn no affection or sympathy.

But it was something that a King must do. And he could almost hear the soft music, a sonata playing in the background as if all of this was a long, long dream. A nightmare perhaps was the more apt term, but he could not run from this. And the day wouldn't end without him at least beheading one for their crimes.

Death penalty.

Execution.

Crucifixion.

Mutilation.

Decapitation.

The man blinked as he felt his blood pump through his veins at the thought—he was always the voice of reason, the one who took away the judgment but now he searched for retribution. And somehow, in its way, it did taste sweet. If only if he could ignore the Joker who was sipping tea as one of the juries. 

Of course, they would relish and ravish this moment. Maybe he should have done this the day they were gone—but he had already plunged one hand into the water. And the only option left was diving in and going through it. The door to the courtroom opened as a flash of white, red, green, and brown appeared, and the Prime Minister along with the Delegate of Clovers slipped into the crowd.

Alexander Hartsmichdt took a deep sigh.

It was time.

He could do this even without her. It was much better that she wasn't here for this time. She didn't need to be here. The King was capable of moving even when the Queen wasn't around. And even if he had to take it step by step, in the end, he would still be moving forward in the right direction.

The guilty party sat a few feet in front of him, separated from the jury and other onlookers.

The King of Spades sat on his chair with an annoyed expression on his face, and they didn't even say a thing—their usually loud mouth was clamped shut. The Queen of Spades sat right at his side, and the woman was also looking unruly along with one of their Delegates. In the hands of Olivia Deuce was an axe and it was a valuable item for them to prove their innocence. At least that was what they said. The others were seated in the back along with other Delegates and people not part of the jury.

It was finally time to do the right thing.

He took another deep breath and then began, "The reason for this gathering today is obvious in and of itself. Yesterday, before the events of the banquet, it was the time when the Queen of Hearts was found running to the Royal Conference Hall as witnesses—"

"Excuse me, excuse meee!" A voice stopped him, and there was a small grin on the face of the interrupter. "As much as I would love to see you start the case, make the case and also judge the case—you can't be both the judge and plaintiff, Your Majesty of Hearts." The Joker pointed it out with a smile, "Someone like you is clearly aware of how much bias this could be. Quite, quite silly. You should let me handle the case, wait—I realized something. I don't have to ask permission." The Joker pushed the teacup and platter away from the table as it crashed on the floor.

The Joker stepped out from his spot at the jury table and moved forwards to the center of the court. He pushed Alexander Hartsmichdt away and faced the onlookers, "Now, ah, isn't this much better? Fair's fair with the Joker. You don't have to worry about anything, King Alfred." He winked at the King of Spades.

Just at the moment that the King of Hearts would have thought that the Joker would rest and watch the situation unfold out as a bystander—the man declares and immediately points out the flaw in the court trial of the day. Alexander caught the eye of the Queen of Clovers, who didn't look pleased, but as their eyes met, she nodded slightly. Almost invisible.

They were going along with this mad-man?