♣︎♣︎♣︎

“Fear, truly, is not something to be frightened of. Fear warns you if something is not safe; Fear feeds your adrenaline when you must run.”

♣︎♣︎♣︎

YANT

I did not go down to dinner.

After what that servant told me, I don’t think I’ll be able to get out of bed any time soon. Levan left me as well, following the same servant as they led him to the guard’s quarters. So it’s dark in my room, the candles full and untouched, and the moon screams at me from the sky, howling in laughter as though my death amuses it.

I’ll die if I stay here, I’ll die if I play along, and I’ll die if I make it to the end. I wasn’t expecting to fight while being here—or a possiblility of dying, the real danger here—the King truly told me nothing.

“Oh, Grandma.” I sigh, tucking myself deeper under the covers to entertain my thoughts to the object of sleep. They decline, sadly, being spurred up by this whole situation. Then, they go to the person who is destined to kill me once my time here has ended.

Prince Venus Heart. Why does someone fated to end me have to be so beautiful?

I think about the other royals. The Damsel and the High Prince. Both seem to be on bad terms with the Prince—and with themselves. Both seem unstable, in their own ways. They also obviously find me less than, and I certainly don’t want them near me when my paint falls off. Levan may help me, but I’m still not certain about where he stands in all of this.

A plan, I think as my eyes start to droop, I need a plan if I am to get through all of this. Always a plan. Some structure will help me.

I can’t live without it, for without structure, there is only the fear of what to come.

♣︎♣︎♣︎

♡♡♡

“No one must know. So keep quiet, and stare at the sky ignorantly.”

♡♡♡

BLACKJANE

I stare at the gentle moon, wondering how this majestic sphere of light can handle the wickedness of this side of the world, as I pour the soft, sweet smelling liquid into the cup of Elder Prince Dianthus.

He lays in his bed, long dark lashes framing his purple eyelids that flutter ever time his eyes move restlessly; his dark curls are matted on the sides, for he hardly ever moves from the bed. His thin lips pressed harshly against each other in pain even in sleep, wrinkling the black heart resting beside them. For some reason, I feel regretful to wake him, though, I know myself, and that is not the only thing that I shall regret.

Three black hearts rest on my right arm, where my shoulder and upper arm meet, signifying my ranking. The ugly black of it stares at me, jeering at me in joy for allowing it to take away my original color.

After I’m done filling the cup halfway, I shake the Elder Prince gently, handing the cup to him as he rouses. “Ah. Jane.“ He nods, taking a sip without hesitation. The trust he gives me is not what I deserve, but he is less perceptive than his younger brother and sisters because of his sickness and how he was raised.

He hands me back the cup once he finishes, and I place it on the desk near the head of the bed. “Shouldn’t you be asleep, Jane?”

I shake my head, holding my tongue to stop myself from repeating the question back to him. A verbal tic, the doctor said when my mother called for him, should start to disappear as she grows up.

But it’s still here, and once, it almost landed me dead.

I shake my head and respond with, “Doctor Grand told me that he forgot to give you your dose today.” Which was true. What was in the cup wasn’t his dose though. By his face, it seems he can’t tell the difference. “I should be off now. Goodnight, your majesty.”

I make my way towards the door, but a weak grip holds onto my naked wrist. I start to shift into a defensive stance, but I remember where I am and the part I am meant to play, and I hold myself.

“Please don’t leave,” the Elder Prince’s voice is faint as he drifts back to sleep, “We haven’t talked in a while. What’s that about anyway? Do you find me boring now, because I sleep all the time and the sick, almost-dead prince isn’t what you’d thought he’d be?”

I look back, sigh, then walk back to the bedside and place his arm back over the covers. “No, you are everything I knew you’d be.” Another truth. But I was supposed to know everything about him so that he’d like me.

The Elder Prince smiles at my words and leans back against his pillows. “Okay. Talk to me, Jane, tell me again about the stories your mother told you? Those are my favorite.”

I look down at his weak form, regret rising up inside of me once more. But I distract myself from it, I do as he asks. “I’ll tell you my favorite one. Did I already tell you about the Dealer?”

He frowns, opening one eye to say, “That is not allowed in these walls.”

“I know, but this is a different kind of story. This is how the Dealer was created. It is not something for the faint of heart, and there is a lot of death surrounding it. And of course, as you said, the Dealer is a horrible thing. If you think you can’t handle it, though, I’ll leave you—“

“NO!” He shrieks, surrendering to a coughing fit after. I do not know if he really is two years older than me; he seems and acts like a child. “Tell me the story. Tell me now.”

“Alright then,” I look back out the large window and take a breath. “From the Jesters to the Hearts, a story always starts, then, of course, it must depart—The Birth of the Dealer.”

Then the words flow freely from my mouth, though I have to pause several times to stop myself from repeating.

Oh, how I miss the red, how I miss my Own.

♡♡♡

♦︎♦︎♦︎

“A parent’s respect is like having all the riches in the world. Without it, you feel as poor as dirt.”

♦︎♦︎♦︎

Three Months Earlier…

RUMANDAD

Today is my Rising Ceremony. The day where I rise from a dainty damsel into a warrior woman to stand beside my eldest sister during her new rule in the coming years. With my practice sword in hand and my long hair tied at the back of my neck, I sweep my leg under myself and toss my sword into the air. As the sword stays suspended in the air, I jump and catch it mid-air, coming to land nimbly on the padded soles of my feet.

Clapping startles me out of my celebration. I turn to see Jest, the second eldest, on the sidelines of the training ground, a pleased smile on her discolored face. A black diamond sits on her right breast, not exposed, but a stitched peice of fabric shaped as a diamond lays above it. “Wonderful, dear sister, truly wonderful.” She pats my shoulder when I make it to her. “Mother will be proud.”

I beam at her, taking the band out of my hair to let it fall on my back. I stroke the singular diamond on my throat, knowing my sister has to be right.

“Of course she will.”

♦︎♦︎♦︎

Present…

RUMANDAD

I run my fingers through my butchered hair, the shortened strands split and the ends stray. I put my palms over my eyes, hiding myself from the mirror I stand in front of.

It’s never going to grow back, is it? It’s been three months, and it hasn’t grow back.

I choke back a sob, but even though I tried to keep the thoughts out, what Pokel said comes rushing back to me. But my mother wouldn’t send me here to die, right? So what if I failed my Rising Ceremony and lost my Honor, I’m still her daughter.

“Your mother is a smart woman, even the Emperess thinks so.”

“No. NO!” I jump into the bed, pulling my shoes and shortened dress off but keeping my slip secure on my hardened body. I draw my sword out the scabbard and put it to my chest. The cold metal against my skin calms me. It reminds me of who gave me this sword; why she gave me this sword.

“I know that you’ll make me proud, Rummy. My sweet, little girl.”

“I will, Mother! I-I’ll—“

Make it out alive. With information. Yes. If I leave here alive, with information about what the Prince of Heart will do after his coronation, then my Honor would have to be returned to me. Then, my sisters would look me in my eye again. Then—then—

Mother would acknowledge me again.

I wipe the tears that have somehow managed to fall down my cheeks. Sheathing my sword, I move to my suitcase and rummage for an outfit to wear to dinner.

To find out information, I will have to do something that I was taught to do in desperate times. To act like my title.

To act like a damsel.

I will get my Honor back.

♥︎♥︎♥︎

“Curse me! Curse me! For I am born this way. I shall laugh myself silly of your scorn!”

♥︎♥︎♥︎

Earlier…

VENUS

The man does not scream, he does not cry, he stares at me instead, a delighted look in his eyes when my Command does not work.

“He’s a Heart, a Ten of Hearts at that, so why isn’t it working, brother?”My sister, one of the twins as the other is stuffing herself full of sweet buns from the kitchens, huffs in annoyance and kicks the side of the prisoner harshly. He grunts, but braces the pain correctly, letting me know that he is a soldier.

A former one, anyway. Now, he is apart of a resistance that has been pillaging Heart’s supplies for five years. I had turned a blind eye to it at the beginning, but now, from my sources, they’ve been speaking to the Emperess for assistance with the raids. It has begun to mess with my nerves.

We are alone in the dungeon, the only occupants other prisoners. There are no guards to hear what I say next. The thing that had given me cause for alarm for reasons that shouldn’t even be possible.

“Your boss Commanded you to not listen to my Commands, yes?”

The prisoner grins. “And it works, doesn’t it?”

I tilt my head. “My axe also works, do you want to see?”His face falls at that, but he sets his jaw and closes his eyes in acceptance.

“Go ahead, I die for the resistance.”

Dusta claps her hands. “This will be fun!”

As Dusta hands me my axe, I think grimly over the subject turning in my mind. There is only one person who can Over-Command another’s Command—the Aces. That’s why it should’ve worked when I Commanded the man to tell me who his boss is. The Aces are able to Command all in their Suit.

Heart to Heart.

Diamond to Diamond.

Club to Club.

Spade to Spade.

So the only one to Over-Command my own—

Is another Ace of Heart.

♥︎♥︎♥︎

♣︎♣︎♣︎

“A face so glorious that it melted the hearts of even the most meanest men and women of the town; but a heart so wicked, that it ended in their destruction.”

♣︎♣︎♣︎

YANT

I have never before held such a beautiful sight.

As the Prince walks in, the High Prince and the Damsel roll their eyes. Only I, Levan, and the Spade guard appear to be surprised by his appearance.

A black Heart rests on his curved cheek, his eyes, a soft brown, are framed by thick, ebony lashes, the same color of his long hair that flows down his shoulders and cups his jaw gently. His attire is a color of cream and black, a buttoned coat and a pair of gray trousers. A decorative crown sits on his head, and he walks into the waiting room with an air of confidence without even a smile or a smirk on his smooth face.

This is the soon-to-be King to kill me, so why can’t I look away.

“Venus,” the High Prince doesn’t bother to stand, rooting his guard down as well with his legs. The rest of us stand and bow, respectfully, and the Prince of Hearts nods in answer. “What took you so long?”

He sits on a cushion, his guards coming to stand on either side of it. His face is clear when he says cryptically, “I’m sure your mother has told you.”

“The Emperess tells me many things.” The High Prince taps his lips with a finger. “Would you mind giving me a hint?”

“No.”

The High Prince frowns, his nonchalant manner dropping. “You never change, do you?”

The Dasmel clears her throat, gaining everyone’s attention. “Can we get along with the events, Your Highness? I’d rather not waste anymore of my time here.”

“I agree, Rumandad.” He claps his hands twice and three servants shuffle into the room as though they had been waiting outside. “They will escort you to your rooms where you’ll stay until dinner.” The Prince blinks, then slowly turns to me. He points in my direction and tilts his head in question. His brown eyes search my face with a strange look in them. “Who are you, Club? You cannot be the King’s son, as he has none.”

I flush from his gaze, thankful for my dark complexion, and bow once more, pulling Levan along with me. “Ambassador Yant, Your Highness,” I think I’m getting better at this role, and it hasn’t even been a whole day, yet, “I’m here as a representative of the Clubs.”

“Okay.” Is all he says in response. He continues to observe me as the servants come and take us away.

The High Prince and his guard leave first, leaving their assigned servant rushing after them in modesty. The Damsel leaves next, a frown on her face and her arms crossed against her chest as she follows her servant. Levan and I leave last, the Prince staying in the waiting room, toying with a tassel on the end of one of the heart pillows.

Out of the corner of my eye is him mouthing something slowly with his lips. I ignore it, and let the servant push me out the room and down the hall to the long, shimmering stairs that go to the next floor of the castle. Levan is still quiet, I as well, as the servant speaks in a low voice about what will happen during the next few weeks. I pick up most of it:

A ball.

Another ball.

A duel.

A challenge in the gardens.

Wait. Wait.

“Excuse me. Did you say a duel?”

The servant stops walking, turning to me slowly as though I was stupid. “Yes, several. The Hearts need some reassurance that their soon-to-be King can be entertaining. As you know, Ambassador, it is one of our many objectives.”

Ah yes, Entertainment.

“But what if, just hypothetically,” Levan suddenly says behind me, “That one doesn’t know how to spar. Will they be able to sit out of the duels if so?”

He’s referring to me, and though I do like that he’s trying to help me, the servant just gives me another disgusted look.

Great. Already failing on the representation part—or, maybe I’m not. Protection does not fully align with fighting, exactly.

“Then,” the servant says finally, “they need to hurry up and learn how to fight. Or else their head may be the first one to fall.”

♣︎♣︎♣︎

♣︎♣︎♣︎

“Royalty does not mean privileged; it means trickery, corruption, and no moments of peace.”

♣︎♣︎♣︎

The guards took our horse and carriage without a second glance. Two others ushered Levan and I into the castle, their backs straight and their gaze forward.

I was expecting the Heart soldiers to be more laid back, not to act like their objective was the Diamond’s: Order, Unity, Honor—among many others of the same. Well, they are soldiers. I peek in my peripheral to see Levan acting the same, his once grinning face grim and as hard as stone.

And here I am fiddling with my fingers and looking at the tall, decorated walls as we walk. I stop a portrait, an old one by the looks of it, with the late King and Queen of Heart smiling perfectly, their dark hair, the same color of their loved roses, curled and pinned in the painting. It seems so realistic that it feels like their eyes are staring at me with awareness.

Like they are still alive.

I look away and turn the corner with the guards and Levan to two large doors.

“This is where you will wait for the Prince, Ambassador,” one guards says to me, the other opening the door.

“O-okay,” I reply, uncertainty tinging my words. Levan breaks out of his character for a moment to give me a grin, then he pushes me inside in front of him and the guards close the doors behind us.

The room is smaller than I thought it would be, thinking back to the doors. It is very beautiful, I will say that. Black and white heart-shaped cushions and loveseats with tables in front of them occupy the whole space. On the walls, clear mirrors perch, lined by roses and white flowers that I cannot name. To the left of me, three people sit eyeing me curiously.

My curved collar suddenly feels tight—the paint on my face pulled awkwardly by the large smile I smear on my face. I adjust my collarband and walk towards the three. I bow respectfully, Levan bowing with me, and rise to say, “Ambassador Yant of the Clubs. It’s a pleasure to meet you High Prince of Spade and Honored Damsel of Diamond.”

They do not respond. It’s eerily silent for a few shaky beats of my heart, before the Damsel laughs.

“Really! A Five of Clubs—the King must really have no one stronger in that weak kingdom of his. Tell me…Ambassador Yant,” she leans forward in her seat, her blonde hair, cut short to her scalp glistening in the light of the ceiling candles, and gives me a smile that seems predatory on her strong set jaw, “How much do you know about why you’re here?”

This time, it is I who does not respond. Instead, I look at the black diamond that sits proudly on the base of her throat. Her clothes are tailored in a way that shows her rank and race while still shielding her virtue. A sword lies on her hip, still sheathed thankfully, and her entire body seems to be pulsating with energy; thick, strong, and full of curves. She looks like she’s waiting for me to say something, anything, so she can start a fight.

I do have to answer, sadly. She is of higher rank and a royal at that.

The High Prince of Spade, and what most likely is his own guard, watch us lazily from where they lounge on a loveseat. “I will admit, Dear Damsel, I have not been told much of this visit to Sangue.”

The Damsel is about to say something when the High Prince speaks before her. “We’ve come here as representatives of our country to watch the Prince become a King. And no doubt after he becomes King, we will all die, starting a War that will bring horror that no one has ever seen to these lands.” His guard stiffens at his words, but she doesn’t say anything. He stops, putting his thumb into his mouth and stretching his legs, a cut in his robe exposing them and the black Spade on his knee, across his guard’s lap. “Was that what you were about to say, Rumandad? Or did you not guess why that was the reason why your mother sent you here…alone and without your Honor? Did she say that this would be your chance to gain it back? You poor, poor thing.”

The Damsel works her jaw, hands fisting in her lap. “My mother would never do that, you Spade,” she fires back.

“Your mother is a smart woman, even the Empress thinks so,” is all he responds with.

I’ve sat on a cushion at this point, and watching the two agure. Levan sits beside me watching as well, his lips pursed as he processes the High Prince’s words.

So. After all this, I’m going to die. My plan seems to be a failure then. I could run, I suppose, but my King knows my name and my Grandma after I told him where she lives so that he could send someone to watch her. Running away now, I could get us both killed. But staying here, I would get killed, if what the High Prince is saying is true, and my Grandma would live and still be protected by the King—we Clubs have a rule, to Protect if they have no one else to turn to.

There seems to be only one choice to this, and as Levan gives me a look of worry, my stupid little heart, no matter how small and greedy it is, roots me to the stop.

I might make it alive through this, even if the chance is small, and I still need that money for a new life. If a War starts, Grandma and I will be long gone before it reaches us.

We all turn as the doors open and a older man walks in, a Three of Hearts. “All welcome, Soon-To-Be King, the Ebony Rose of Death, the Prince of Hearts, Venus Heart!”

♣︎♣︎♣︎

“Call and beck and wander around—You’ll always find your way back to sin somehow.”

♣︎♣︎♣︎

It towers above us, the points topped with ebony hearts; the same shapes cover the body of the castle as well. In the windows, on the doors, on the stained glass and smooth stone that made the thin, lithe body of Ecstasy. It is large, though it is not; the air around it is thick and charged with an unfamiliar feeling I have yet to name. But whatever it is, it makes my heart race and my mind whirl out of control.

Control—my control.

I snap out of it and turn to see my guard, Levan, staring up at it with amazement in his eyes and a smile on his face. “Marie would have loved this,” he says quietly.

“Who’s Marie,” I almost ask, but shut my mouth the second awareness comes back over me. It’s probably his sister, or his lover of some sort. Let’s not ask questions that would make the both of us uncomfortable.

“Let’s head inside,” I say instead. Levan nods and grabs the reigns on the horse as we start our walk to the castle gates.

Traveling through the city, it was packed, filled to the brim with Hearts—and the occasional Diamond, though it was a rare sight. Loud, loud, loud, is all I can use to describe it. Thankfully, I was in the carriage and didn’t have to deal with the mass of bodies and foot traffic on the ground; the horses did, and they are rather good at making a path themselves. Now, on the road heading towards the Prince’s domain, it is quiet, and the only people we see are guards and gardeners who work tirelessly in the grounds lining the two sides of the road.

I don’t wish to speak, not that I have many things on my mind as I stare at a gardener who is hurriedly painting a white rose black while his companion darts glances at a nearby guard and holds the paint can for him. They must have planted the wrong flower. I shiver, remembering the rumors surrounding the Prince and his love for Soulless Roses.

It was said his mother started the tradition, cooing over the flower after a visit to the Great Forest one year while the Prince was still young. The Queen was known for her obsession of flowers, Grandma told me once, as she even named her children after the different types she favored. She liked this particular flower, this Soulless Rose, because it reminded her of herself. It was black, like her hair, and had pollen the color of her brown eyes. Thorns wrapped around the stem and every leaf of the bush it rested upon; it guarded itself well, and fed on the remains of creatures it called to it with its sweet scent.

With the story unraveling in my mind, I look around to see many, if not all, of the gardeners wearing a protective mask that looks to be thick as they cut and prune the sharp, dangerous edges of the of every part of itself. How can one, even a Heart, Want something such as this.

Why would one, such as a Club, have so much Greed and overwhelming Wants? A calm voice asks me.

“Oh, stab the Hearts, this place is messing with my mind.” I grit my teeth and focus on the path ahead.

Levan chuckles. I jump, forgetting that he was there and still right by my side, as well at the clattering carriage.

I glance up at the castle, narrowing my eyes at it as we get closer and closer. I have a goal in my mind, I say to it, and I will not let Ecstasy drive me away from it. My Grandma is on the line here, you damn thing.

Then I sigh. Am I really that lonely that I talk to a castle instead of an alive male, who seems more than happy to talk to me, that is walking next to me?

Of course, I know the answer before I ask myself this.

“You probably don’t want to say that when we enter the castle—unless you yourself want to be stabbed?” Levan tilts his head at me and grins, inviting me to continue the conversation.

I do. “Ah, so even though I’ve come to represent my country, I myself cannot express how I have lived there for all my life? Curses and all?”

“Not unless you want War to come to us Clubs. And have your head chopped off by the Prince of Heart himself; I hear he does that now.” Levan frowns and turns serious. “I thought it had been outlawed after his mother died, but it seems he’s found a way to bring it back up.”

We lapse back into silence after those words, Ecstasy’s large, Soulless Rose covered gates approaching into view.

Quickly, quickly.

Money, Yant, money that you need.

But sadly, this doesn’t reassure me as we step in from of the palace guards and are taunted by the overwhelming smell of vile roses.

♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

“And the lamb walked into the den of the lions, bleating happily as it did so….”

♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

Gambling. That’s what led me to being inside this extravagant carriage heading to the capital of the Heart, Sangue, where the Castle of Ecstasy stands tall and the Prince of the Heart—violent, bloodthirsty, and beautifully dangerous—sits on his blood painted throne.

This will be fine, I just have to play my part.

Get in. Stay for a month as the King of the Club’s ambassador. Then, get paid handsomely by the King and set out for a new life with Grandma.

That’s all. If everything falls into place, I have nothing to worry about.

I carefully scratch at the largest black Club on my right brown cheek. Three more smaller ones decorate my left, and another one is on the upper ridge of my ear. I painted them this morning after seeing that the paint was peeling off. Two weeks is all I have until I need to paint them again. Of course, I have a plan for when that time comes.

I always have a plan. Now, anyway.

I fiddle with the expensive hems of my sleeves, then shaken out of my thoughts as the carriage hits a bump in the road.

I have to admit, I’m scared. I can’t help but think of what His Majesty said to me before my departure.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about—uh, what is your name?” I told him and he continued. “Well, Yant, there is absolutely nothing to worry about at all.” He had paused, his strong face twisting as though he remembered something unpleasant. “This is all a scheme of his, most likely, but both the Spade Emperess and the Diamond Queen have sent their youngest children. I have none, as you know, or you wouldn’t be here right now, my boy.” He had chuckled, but I remained silent.

I had been working on cleaning the kitchens when he called me, and also working on avoiding the traveling lords from Heart who liked to get handsy. Stupid Hearts and their objective of Want and Desire.

Clubs, like me, are focused on Peace, Prosperity, Protection, and Progress. It is why we have the richest farms, why our crime rate is at an all-time low, why we have the most successful orphanages in the whole region. The whole society of my country helped with my income, or, should—if I hadn’t went to the pub that one night.

“Your Majesty,” I had said, just thinking of traveling there—with my problem of Hearts and the fact that I didn’t have a race or ranking if I didn’t have my paints—made my own heart race with fear. And who would take care of Grandma? She can hardly stand by herself, or think for that matter. “I’m afraid I can’t acccept this. I have work to do here, sire, and I have my Grandma at home to take care of. And, I’m not really the best person to ask to do this job—whatever it is exactly. I am only a Five of Clubs.”

The King just laughed merrily, as he himself did not know my life was at stake. “I’ve heard some great things about you, Yant.” Great things? What great things. I knew he was lying, he had just randomly picked me from a sea of servants, but for some reason, hearing that come from my king made my chest puff out in pleasure. “Of course, I’m not sending you without being paid. Just imagine it, all you have to do is sit, enjoy the sights, and humor the Prince once in a while for a month. As well as his other guests, but they shouldn’t be a problem; the Prince as well. After all, you said yourself that you’re just a Five of Clubs.”

The King, an Ace of Clubs, could have just Commanded me at that point, but I guess the rumors about him were true. He was as kind as the other servants said. Though, as I have no true rank and have never been Commanded before, I have no clue whether or not it would have worked anyway. The pay had got into my head and I licked my lips, as though the paper was food. In my case, it was. And it was also a new home, away from the Clubs and the Spades and the Diamonds and especially the Hearts. Maybe in the Outer Lands. Or in the Great Forest.

Both seemed like better options than staying here. For Grandma’s health and my safety.

I still think that now, muttering over and over again the absurd amount of dall the king agreed to grant me after this under my breath. One month. One month is all it is. One month in fancy clothing, attending balls, and staying out of sight.

I think to myself that I’m doing this for the good of my country—I myself am not ignorant to the whispers of War around the corner. If it comes to that, Clubs would be the first place to fall and everyone knows it.

But, I know that I’m doing this for my own selfish reasons, and for once I find myself siding up with the Heart. Stab the Heart, I think, the Diamonds too with their stupid objective of Honor and Discipline.

I Want that money. I don’t need it, I could carry on life as it is, I suppose: waiting for Grandma to die, waiting for someone to find out what a freak I am. But with that money, our whole lives will change.

For the better.

So when the carriage stops, I raise my head, fingers trailing over my paint to make sure it’s fully dried, straighten my shoulders and walk out of the carriage in my borrowed clothing that’s silky and unfamiliar against my skin. My confidence and my plan that I have in my head gives me the strength that I need—until I see the castle.

All the breath jets out of my chest as I behold the sight. My carriage driver, who also happens to be my guard for the trip, jumps off the riding platform and walks to my side. He’s a Four of Clubs, the four black clubs sitting right on the ridge of his nose, who could have Commanded me if his ability to wasn’t Commanded out of him by the King. He is also dashing and distractingly charming in every way. It had surprised me that someone such as he—as he is still in training—was to be my companion for this trip, but I won’t let it interfere with my plans.

“Well then, Ambassador Yant, welcome of the heart of Heart,” he laughs at his own joke, stopping quickly when he sees my disgusted face, “Uh—Anyway. Do you like the sight, sir?”

I nod, as my breath still hasn’t returned to me.

It’s marvelous, truly marvelous.

But I’m not broken. I will finish this month and get my money. For me, for Grandma.

Whatever it takes.

♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

The Prince of Hearts

The King of Clubs

The Queen of Diamonds

The Emperess of Spades

All different leaders of different sectors of this country. All vitally important to the people who live in it.

But dear one, War looms across this plain that once carried peace. War strikes its claw down the white flags and stains the ground with blood. It approaches children and adults then leaves them orphaned and cropses.

War is coming.

And only the Dealer can stop it.

Because once it starts, it will never cease until the whole land is turned into waste.

“But where’s the Dealer, Grandma?” I looked into her eyes, six clubs right above her brow. “Will they come now?”

She chuckled, patting me on the head with a sad look on her face. Grandma cradled my cheek with her palm, looking for spades that weren’t there. My face was clear, abnormally clear, with no marking of rank or race upon it. I looked like Grandma with my features, but I didn’t have any of her clubs.

It confused me at the time.

“My dear, I think they’re already here.” She sighed, groaning as she stood and walked to where she placed her cane. “Put your paint on, dear, we’re going shopping.”

I raced to my room to hurry. Shopping meant snacks. And snacks meant cake.

I didn’t know what she meant at the time, but the Dealer would soon show their face.

Very soon.

(A story idea I got! Sooo, yeah. I’m almost at my downtime, so I’ll write about it later.)

My existence is an act of war. I was not bred by submissive women— I talk back And don’t always know when to admit I’m wrong.

Dishes will rise to the ceiling, Becoming a cesspool for plagues And maggots.

I’ll step over the piles of dog dung in the den And leave them for you to squelch your toes in its cold, mushy heap of smelly waste When you’re half-asleep, Making your morning commute to your dead-end 9 to 5 And running on caffeine fumes.

I won’t make you dinner after a long day Of slaving away for corporate America. You can feed yourself.

I want to put my feet up, Watch my daily dose of Days of Our Lives And forget about the mind-numbing chatter of complaints you have for me when I walk through the door.

Oh, you say I don’t care enough about your problems? You drink like a fish And smoke like a chimney.

You always make everything out to be a joke And wonder why I laugh at us.

Hand in hand, We look like a funhouse mirror.

You’re tall and skinny. I’m short and fat.

They should put us at the center of their circus act And throw their peanuts for entertainment.

My mother strategized— Weaponized incompetence.

Burn dinner. Let the children deface the walls with their propaganda.

We are raising an army of self-sufficiency. Once you leave the safety of the womb, It’s a war zone.

It brings us closer together It makes us laugh and cry Our heart grow a little bit fonder And we cry out in joy We won we won we won Until we don’t And blame the one across the table It’s all in fun and games It’s all out of love That friendly competition Of playing card games with your friends.

Uno One girl A girl without a friend One whom is alone Who needs a someone But is broken and bruised indefinitely

Solitary Like being locked in a room With white padded walls Pitch black and silent She needs a light but the candle is burnt out The lonliness consumes her

Alone Friendless Reaching for a hand that isnt there Hoping for someone to care Her heart aches for an answer Or for something to put an end to this misery

Single Sitting alone a canteen full of chatters She sits at a table full of empty chairs Leaving her alone with her morbid thoughts

Odd Never picked first and always left out Quiet and confused A girl with feelings too Tapping her feet on the floor A silent tear of sorrow slides down her ivory cheek

Sole No one wants to see her No one wants to be near her so she talks to a wall and she says “ Why dosnet anyone care?”

…

🫀