Villainess Of Hearts

Thus another day passed in the world, time flowed regardless of the works of men and all was not well.

Perhaps it was difficult to envision a life where all was good—the residents were good at thriving in conflict and constant disputes. What some had, others envied. What others protected and guarded jealously were snatched away from one's hands.

A Queen slowly raised her head, swollen eyes evident in her face and whether it had been through tears or for staying late past midnight, it was difficult to say or decipher.

Other things lay forgotten for all that mattered in this hour was him.

"Spare my heart the pain and wake up, Gine." her voice had a touch of a whine but also resigned. The resting man in the bed was still unconscious—for how long? She did not know.

The Royal Doctor had already done much.

And despite it all, the elderly man had admonished her much for disturbing the Knight in a critical state. What else was she supposed to do?

She couldn't go about her day with sipping tea and doing anything without him. Beset by too much aching in her chest. Rosalyn Lockhart had tried to watch over him. 

She hadn't even been able to fully consider what might have brought out this event, who might have been the last person to trigger this situation.

Did it really matter?

What mattered was for this nightmare to end.

A thought arrived itself in her mind—perhaps the blessings of a dawn and a clearer mind. Perhaps just desperation taking ahold of anything that glimmered with hope. What if it was possible… no it was supposed to be possible for the Time Man to reverse time!

He had already done it for her.

Surely he could do the same for her Knight. Perhaps he could even make it possible for Julius Ginellevé to understand what exactly it was that had brought on this situation and if the Time Man could do that—then her success was more guaranteed.

She grasped for it and looked around the room.

The Queen didn't quite know what it took for her to return there—through dangers or dreams? She wished to know how the Joker did it if he and the Time Man truly had tea together.

Perhaps it would be better for her to wait and see his recovery, but would it not be better if he were to not ever lift his blade and strike himself in the first place? 

The thought of it still struck her body will chills.

It was encompassing frost that froze her blood and made looking at him be mixed with perplexed and contorted grief. She wanted to understand, she wished to know—for him to know more and help her get through this.

She had already told Gine about this before and he did not believe, but he also took her pain seriously. What more if he actually experienced the same things as she did?

And yet all of this was nothing but a silly game.

Something that occurred for her slighted reason that she sought. What she perceived as an insult and wanted revenge.

A sigh escaped her lips, if only she should have arrived there in the Time Man's place when she had slept. Could she do it again? The Queen rubbed her neck, the soreness in her muscles were tight and painful for sleeping in a chair.

She hadn't wanted to leave his side, but perhaps it was monumental to fully relax to enter there?

Or something dangerous.

Would the Time Man even listen to her request? Whatever she once said to convince him to help him was long gone—perhaps seated deeply in her mind. She could not use it.

This was a fool's chance.

And yet she would do this for his sake.

. . .

He was important to her, valuable and beyond measure to everyone else in this world. Her first choice as it always would be.

Alexander was completely aware of that. 

That her Knight was beloved, it showed truly. Sincerely. Honestly. It was a shared thing between the two. He knew that too well, and she had even stayed with the man all night despite the lack of decorum and when he compared his odds—no, this was not the time for that.

He should have done something helpful.

But even yesterday he was practically useless despite what he knew. 

"A, B, AB...O?" he had muttered to himself last night and had paced back and forth. He had heard of the news as much as anyone, it spread fast but it was the Prime Minister divulging the news in secrecy.

He wished it had been said sooner.

Maybe he could have done something?

Yes if there had been any chance to know about whether it was possible to discover and study one's blood. A way to infuse it to another body. 

And yet the situation would have been precarious despite it all. Things here weren't the case where one could drink a potion of healing and be saved—maybe it had been like this in ages past, but it no longer applied now.

And so he had done nothing but watch. He didn't even watch but had waited for the results far away from the doctor's clinic. He hadn't even been able to be there for her when she had needed it the most.

Useless and unremarkable even with his position that were envied by lords and other men. He was at a seat of power and hadn't even considered searching into this the very moment he arrived—this could have been prevented if he had done more.

If only he had decided to accept this place as truly his and make himself part of it. He might have been able to change it for the better. But all of these were 'ifs' and nothing had actually happened for better or worse.

The man berated himself.

He would beat himself over it, even despite the looks that the Joker would throw him during breakfast. At least the man had the decency to keep his mouth shut.

Alexander Hartsmichdt realized he spoke too soon.

. . .

A Hatter rubbed his eyes tiredly, pronounced eyebags evident on his face. He might have looked terrible but his creation was sure not! He had labored over it all night, and he might have even pursued to do multiple more copies if it weren't the fact that time was of the essence.

Crafted and made with careful hands and a person in his mind—the fascinator came to life.

A beautiful choice of materials.

Nicholas fiddled with the buttons of his vest, and chewed on his bottom lip. "Could this compare to beautiful pearls and gems? Riches, crowns and lofty sceptres?"

Hesitance evident in his face even after all this hard work. Blood, sweat and tears—he almost stabbed himself with the needle as he attached designs to the fascinator.

Hats for men were easy, he could do it without even opening an eye. Women's headwear required a little more though, fashion and such.

Add on to the fact that he was presenting it to the Queen and his status with her might be dependent on whether she liked it or not—it was easy to understand his reservations.

He might have been struck with cold feet.

And yet the longer he was stuck here, it meant the longer that the two of them were to not see each other. He sighed and rubbed his face, mixing some colored dye into his face.

This sudden desire… er, fascination. It was only appropriate to show his appreciation and gratitude, to maintain his friendship with her required giving presents and other things that he could provide.

Let it not be said that he took advantage of his position.

Far from it in truth, or perhaps it was the case. He really didn't know, but he would follow his instincts. And what it had told him was to follow his heart and then the heart would say—

The bottom line was he would give the gift regardless of what were to happen afterwards. Perhaps it wasn't only him who wanted a friend? 

. . .

In a carriage still far off from the Castle of Hearts, but still in the spring-blessed land, two people sat on the carriage. The ride had been going on for perhaps a few days now, even despite the swift movement and almost continuous journey.

One male and a female sat on opposite sides of the plush and luxurious carriage that might have been fit for a King. Each one of them present for different reasons entirely.

The man rested his cheek on his palm, looking afar into the distance. A sigh escaped his lips with a faraway look in his eyes, he would draw the regal curtains backwards and had a wistful look on his face.

And the woman didn't even know what to say.

. . .

"What's with that look on your face?" Lady Catherine Duke eyed the cat man, Chesire who was now staring at the ceiling.

Incomparable to her sweet personality when she was with the Queen, the Lady was a little more serious around what she perceived to be one of her people.

"I want to be fed again… or even just a pat in the head.." he muttered.