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

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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.

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“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.”

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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.”

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