Cath often had dreams of Jest whenever she went to sleep stressed. Her best dreams often came from a restless night, for when she rested completely, she felt useless. Like she should be restless about something, and that itself gave her nightmares of the worst kind.
For example, on the nights she slept deeply, she dreamt of that night as she stood there and watched Jest die. Those were the nights that haunted her the most.
But tonight, she dreamt of something far worse.
It was right after Jest died, and she had embraced the darkness that haunted her, when Chrystal walked up to the throne. She wore shackles, and she was dressed in her usual white dress, but her eyes were black, and she held something in her hand.
On closer inspecion, it looked like she was holding a wig, but then the realization came that she was holding a head.
A head with black curly hair and gold eyes.
Jest's head.
And Cath was laughing and laughing because it was funny. And then Callum walked over to her and kissed her, but as soon as he did, she dropped dead.
Her throat felt parched from screaming.
She had requested her room be sound proofed so no one would panic and come in on her dreams.
She always dreamt of deadly things, and she didn't want a guard to walk in and get hurt because of her dreams that often came to life.
She heard a light tap on her window and frowned.
Outside sat a skinny white fluffy cat.
She gasped with surprise and looked around for a potential owner before opening her window and beckoning the cat it.
She went to her bathroom and put the plug in the sink to fill it with water and let the cat drink.
It seemed friendly enough so she stroked it's back and listened to its purrs.
"Replacing me already?"
Her head whipped around to face the source of the voice.
She found a fatter orange cat sitting on her vanity.
She squinted her eyes, "Cheshire?"
He responded with a sigh and clicked his tongue, "Look at you, forgetting an old friend, though I'm hardly surprised." He said flatly. She frowned, "What are you doing here?" She asked, "Why aren't you back at Hearts with Abigail?"
Cheshire narrowed his eyes, "You executed Abigail 6 months ago."
Cath's heart pounded. She didn't even remember doing that, but she knew it was likely she did and for some ridiculous reason, she also supposed. She hated how detached she felt when reminded of who she was. As if it weren't her.
She knew that it had been her that had done it, but had it actually been her? Grief did terrible things to people, and her past haunted her, but now she had to move on and figure out a way to redeem herself.
Cheshire glided over to her and flicked his tail in her face, "It's a pity, really. She had just given birth to her first child and then not 2 weeks later you executed her for forgetting to paint one of your forsaken white roses. A single rose in exchange for a life. How fair." He said calmly, but that shook her even more than if he had been yelling at her.
Cath's jaw was clenched hard as the first tear slipped down her cheek.
She knew that no matter how many apologise she said or how many times she hated on herself, it would never be okay. She walked over to her bed and curled up on her side. No more tears would come, no matter how hard she tried.
She was so utterly devastated that she couldn't move.
She listened to Cheshire's paw-patters fade away as he exited to room.
She didn't sleep again.
-----------------
The first key unlocked Cath's personal quarters.
On one wall, there was a portrait of her holding 2 bundles of fabric; no doubt Diamond and Spade. She was still so young then, but her eyes were those of a cruel woman who had seen hundreds of lives end at her feet. The rest of the walls were an alternate pattern of hearts and clubs in white and black and nothing else except 2 doors that lead to the washroom and the closet.
The only piece of furniture besides the bed was a vanity with a shriveled white rose.
Sorting through the drawers, he found a journal with a single heart in the center about the size of a finger nail drawn in the center. He tried opening it, but no matter what he did to open it, it wouldn't budge. He sighed and traced the heart with his thumb.
The journal gave a faint click, and Jest furrowed his brow before opening it.
He flipped through the pages to see if there was anything to direct him to any clues. Disappointment washed through him when he saw nothing inportant, but he flipped back to the first page and saw his name.
The entire journal was addressed to him.
His heart stopped as he frantically opened the book and began reading.
--------------
I'M AT THE RENEGADES LAUNCH PARTY YAY! I'LL POST PICS SOON