DAY 39-10: PAWN
"Tragic ends suit us."
As the music settles, and their feet slow to match the tempo, Valentina's whisper tickles Avel's ears. Claps ensue, onlookers marvelling their etiquette and dance, at the edge of their seats for the final act of the ceremony.
"Both of our hands are stained in an inordinate amount of blood," she adds. "Fate was set to catch up to us anyway."
"Those we've killed, we've killed for the sake of our kingdom. To get stronger."
"Or so Mother believes. It goes without saying the other suits, and the rest of Annadia, possess deviating perspectives of affection and bloodlust. Our double-edged love... possibly only a Heart can fully comprehend it."
"Once she'd dead, Her Majesty's ideal will be realized!" A cheer rings out from the crowd.
"Slaughter her already, Your Highness Avelious! Colour her dress a bewitching red!"
"Her Highness is so, so fortunate she can serve our kingdom this beautifully!"
The callous whispers that punctuate the limpid notes are relentless. And as the music quiets, they grow louder and louder.
Hearts can't bring themselves mourn. Whether it be for their companions, or their loved ones.
They kill in the name of their deranged 'affection,' but that's simply what they've come to believe testified their love most. They've long forgotten the 'affection' that made them weak. The gentleness and kindness that caused others to step all over them; abuse their love.
There are two sides of a heart. The pretty and ugly; the innocent and foul; the humble and vain. It's the frail who are taken advantage of. The ones with warmth, compassion, and vulnerability.
That's why the Queen had them forsake it.
That's why, above the other suits who continue to cling to their morality, they're indestructible.
"I have to be," Avel says, loud enough for those in his vicinity to overhear, "else, what other reason have I lived the life I did?"
"To meet me!"
The shout originates from the massive doors that fling open without reservation. At the entrance hovers a girl he can't fully wrap his head around. Primarily because the last time they'd crossed paths, she'd been an asset to his mother's ghastly wall.
Her long, dark curls flap in the wind generated from the forceful slam of the doors. Her sloven and battered appearance, the lacerations, bruises and cuts littering every inch of her skin—not to mention the crooked, unruly stitches sewn haphazardly around the centre of her neck to keep it connected—dampen when compared to the menacing scowl coating her features.
As he stands, stock-still, burning under her undulating stare, he half-wonders if he's hallucinating. That is, until she charges past the gawking crowd and up to him in a vortex of wrath.
"Avel Hestia! Do you have any idea how much shit I've gone through these last few days because of you? I lost my head! I died! Well, I'm alive! But having it severed still hurt like a bitch!"
Valentina is knocked out of the way. She plants her bare feet inches in front of him.
"My d— Leda— you're—"
Lips curled up and growling, nostrils flaring, she pays his stuttering no mind. "Orian was nearly boiled, chopped up, and served as a dish by lunatic chefs. If Hadey hadn't gotten pissed by their unsanitary practices and knocked them out—which was an extremely badass scene by the way, my love for her has grown—we'd have been goners. Ro's all right, but Nixon turned into some unexpected side villain, like we're in some damn video game."
A sharp gasp escapes her as she breathes, desperately, to refill her deflated lungs with air. Then, she stabs her fingernail into his chest.
"I want to flee and forget this ever happened. Eat an enormous buffet, drink the night away, and swim in a pool of gold coins and wads of cash. But, I need you. At this point, I'll be damned if it isn't you. Ditch becoming king. Come back to Edaps with us."
Avel's mouth flutters opened and closed, grappling for his voice; coherent words.
"Curly-head. You're alive?"
Valentina is the first to come to her senses.
Leda cranes her head to address her. "Sorry. Were you in the middle of something important?"
She titters, although her amused smirk doesn't wane. "Extremely. Might I ask you to revive at a later time?"
"I'm sick of waiting around in this nightmarish kingdom, unfortunately, so no. Besides, I'd rather gouge out my eyes than witness the conclusion to this gross ceremony."
"I was so sure I chopped your head from your damn neck!" From the back of the room, Paola steadies her stance. Unbeknownst to Leda, her and all the idling Numbers who've scrambled inside, bare their unadulterated bloodlust. "Are you seriously attempting a coup d'état on such a grand day? Give me three seconds, Your Highn—"
"Stop."
"Your Highness!"
Avel ignores their distraught glances. Possibly because the Queen of Hearts hasn't yet made a formal appearance, none in the room stand to object his direct order.
"Leda, you're alive."
"As if I'd bite the bullet when I have a bone to pick with you." She gauges his frown. "Would you have been happier I stayed as a head?"
At his silence, she slumps her shoulders.
"I had a feeling. When you saw me hanging there, part of you seemed disappointed, but also relieved. Almost as if you were glad... you didn't have to kill me yourself." She half-heartedly smiles. "Our fates were sealed from the moment we got here. Sooner or later, your mom would've had you kill us. So you—"
"You're wrong." Avel's tone is gravelly; calm. From the moment they met, he hasn't been without his smile. Yet, now, his ruthless gaze and voice resembles the rumours that have tickled her ears time and time again. "When I learned a human was on board the Spade ship Paola and Uno attacked, I made preparations to bring you to the palace. From the moment you entered Straeh, I was deceiving you to kill time until I became King. I had no intention of keeping our—"
"Proof of our promise is alive as we speak."
"Only temporarily," he snaps. "Mother's goal has to be realized. That's the reason I've lived to today. To be the perfect King, I have to be prepared to do anything to ensure Straeh remains the invincible nation that it is."
"Straeh, huh?" she drawls. "You made that antidote for Ro, a Spade, when your Mother wanted every last one them decimated. You helped hide me and Orian in the palace because you couldn't bear telling us the truth about Nixon. You even asked me to marry you, as creepily as you did. Was that for Straeh too? No, it wasn't. All of it went against the Queen's wishes. They were all born of your selfishness, weren't they?"
He grits his teeth. "You don't get it, Leda. What I 'want' isn't an option. My goals and aspirations, my emotions, they belong for the sake of my mother. They always did. They always will. She wanted you dead from the get-go. Have you, a human, hung as a head on her wall. You were never going to be mine to begin with. I can never have anything of my own. Everything I love has an expiration date. Because I loved Father, I had to kill him. Because I love Mother, I have to say goodbye to Val. Even if I do love you or want you, you'll die by my hands someday. A Heart's affection is poisonous. Maddening. It'll kill you."
Even now, she doesn't have all the answers. She doesn't know a thing about what he's gone through to utter all he has, do all he's done. Maybe she truly has lost her marbles these last few days. Because watching the streamline of tears filling his eyelids, threatening to fall over, her chest prickles unremittingly.
He doesn't want it to kill her. He didn't want it kill his father either. His psychotic mother can indoctrinate him otherwise, but nobody wishes for their loved one to die. Even if the only reason Hearts kill them is because they're scared to lose them first, it's unbelievably painful. She can't imagine how much.
She draws his face closer to hers.
"Look. I don't condone your past or your... morbid tendencies, but the fact is, you kept your promise. You helped us at the expense of crossing your mother. You may not need me, but I need you. To end this nightmare, and move on from this morbid kingdom, your skills as a quack are vital to saving the lives of so many people. And honestly, if the only way you can become my ally is to present me your affection... If you have to kill me for that to become a reality, go ahead. Give me your entire heart, even, contradictory, maddening and poisonous as it is. I won't die."
Her lips twist up.
"Believe it or not, I've survived death twice now. Since I stupidly dash into trouble, a third or fourth time wouldn't be a stretch. So if everyone you love has an expiration date, what would that make of me, who doesn't? You'd have to love me forever, wouldn't you?"
Her deep laughters echoes throughout the otherwise silent room. Avel's gaze glosses over anew, as if to desperately register her words. He goes between stuttering and gaping before settling with a stupefied, lovestruck look.
"M-my heart?" he sputters. "Sh-shall I rip it out this instant?"
"Not literally. I'll have nightmares." Leda's mouth flatlines. "Hmm. The way you're looking at me makes me think I've made a big mistake. Oh, well."
A while back, when she first learned of Avel's true colours, having him on her trail terrified her. Now, in this situation, if it means he'll be her ally—one of her her only allies—she'll accept him with open arms. Logically speaking, him fawning over her hasn't fundamentally changed from when they first met. She can live with it.
"This ceremony is ruined," Valentina says, interrupting them. She offhandedly shrugs and folds her arms. "Curly-head, can you even comprehend the gravity of your situation?"
Leda blinks. "I've doomed myself the eternal affection of a deranged prince?"
The clashing of metal—spears—surround her from all directions. The Numbers make their malice clear. One step, and losing her head again is the least of her worries.
"You've crashed this holy occasion, smooth-talked the future King into forsaking his duty. The sins you've confessed to haven't gone unheard to everyone in this room. Not only yourself—you've single-handedly sentenced Avelious to his death as well."
"Damn. For real?" She seriously is screwed. Hadey is looking after Orian now, so they won't be here for a while. "Can we call a truce, sis? We bonded a bit once, over that dress, remember?"
"Impudent scrub." Valentina's disgust is glaring. "What don't you understand? Those who've crossed the Queen have never lived to tell the tale. My father, Avelious's father—countless others have lost their lives abandoning the Queen's vision. If something as inane as a human could overturn all that overnight, I'd like to see it."
"Who said anything about overturning anything?" Leda pulls a face. "That sounds like a hell of a lot of work. You're surprisingly a goody-goody."
"A 'goody-goody', is it? That's not inaccurate. I've let that woman have her way with my life. Over and over. Waiting and waiting to die to finally become useful my kingdom. I've been that witch's pawn from birth." A cackle rings out, startling Paola and all the guards. Leda as well. "But even a pawn can become the queen, the most powerful piece, can they not?"
Paola grips her scabbard, furrowing her thick eyebrows.
"Don't tell me— The reason Her Majesty hasn't yet arrived—"
"Val! Val!"
"It appears I'm getting quite old. Those five youngsters put up quite the fight."
The faint, agitated exclaim is discombobulated. Orange specks soar through the air; the flapping of miniature wings.
Preceding slow, leisurely footsteps, a short man strolls inside as well.
Valentina addresses them while everyone stands, shell-shocked.
"Blaze, Mavix, you sure took your sweet time. I presume everything has gone according to plan?"
Mavix bows his head.
The blood-stained crown that lands on Valentina's head top is a huge blow to the gut.
"Rejoice, loyal servants." She laughs uproariously, relishing in Estelle's headwear—headwear the woman was never seen without, even during rest. "From today forward, your new Queen shall be yours truly. Anyone and everyone who disagrees will have their heads rolled. Exactly like that Blood Red Witch I've sent off to hell just moments ago."