Random Dumb Stuff

Heartless- 'My type of mercy'

The tang smell of blood was soon replaced with floral perfumes, though there was no point in cleaning the courtroom; the next trial would bring more bloodshed.

Catherine straightened her ruffled gown and adjusted the crown on her head. She would be grateful when she could take it off and collapse into bed.

She gave a sideways glance at the King of Hearts, face still contorted with disgust from the last beheading. Pathetic fool. Pathetic husband. Pathetic king.

The same was not thought of her, the merciless Queen of Hearts. She was bold, mad, grieving, murderous.

But she did not care for the thoughts of her people.

A guard coughed and her gaze snapped towards him. "What?"

Her husband fiddled with his hands in his lap, as if looking at her was too dangerous an act.

"Sweetie," he started. She forced back the urge to gag at the nickname. "The guard was asking-"

"Repeat," Cath interrupted, pointing a finger at the guard.

He cleared his throat before saying, "There is one more civilian to be trialled, Your Highness. Should we send her in?"

"Oh, yes yes, let them in."

The doors opened revealing a girl being held in the arms of two guards bringing her in. The girl's face was pale with worry and constant tears were streaming down her cheeks, along by a helpless wail. Her blonde hair was sticking to her face, and her blue eyes begged for mercy, and rang with familiarity.

The guard introduced the girl.

"Your Majesties, servant to the Marquess and Marchioness of Rock Turtle Cove, I present Mary Ann," the guard announced.

Mary Ann. Mary Ann. Mary. Ann

Mary Ann. Her partner in baking, the reason life as an heiress was bearable, the reason...

...the reason Jest was dead.

Cath rubbed the hat in her fingers. Black, with three points, bells dangling off each one. Jest's hat.

She covered any surprise she may have shown and sat up straighter.

"And what is her crime?" She snapped.

The guard started. "Th-theft, Your Highness."

"And who has reported this?" She asked.

"A servant boy, Rupert Jones. He claims that she stole a necklace from an unused room," He continued.

"NOOOOOOO!" Mary Ann wailed. "IT'S A LIE! I DIDN'T TAKE IT!"

"Silence her," Cath ordered.

One of the guards holding Mary Ann shoved a hand over her mouth. The wails died out.

"There is another who claims her innocence," the guard called.

"Who?"

"A boy she is courting, another servant boy, Oliver Jones."

"Is that the brother of Rupert?" She asked.

"Yes, Your Highness," the guard answered.

"Bring them both in."

Two young men walked in, just past the age of a boy. The first had neatly combed back hair, golden and straight, some wisps falling in front of his face. His skin was tanned and he had a sly grin on his face. The second had unruly black hair and a pale face. He had a a cut lip and a bruise the right side of his jaw. He was crying, silently.

The first stepped forwards.

"I am Rupert Jones, Your Majesties," he said with a bow. "I saw Mary Ann go into your old room, My Queen."

Cath raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes," he mused. "I saw her retrieve a necklace and place it in her pocket."

Cath was enjoying this trial. "I see. You may step back, Rupert." She pointed a finger at the other boy. "Announce yourself."

The boy stepped forwards with a slight limp, though bowed. "I am Oliver Jones, My Queen."

"You seem hurt. This is an offence, so tell me, who hurt you?" She asked.

His face turned sour. "I fought with my brother for wrongly accusing Mary Ann. She was trying to retrieve the necklace for you, My Queen. I think that your birthday is approaching?"

Cathrine was taken aback, but leaned closer. "That is theft all the same. A crime punishable by death."

Mary Ann wailed again and collapsed to her knees. Oliver went over to her and picked her up, holding her close. The guards looked at her to ask whether to restrain, but she dismissed them.

With Mary Ann curled up and crying in his lap, Oliver turned to Cath, hands together.

"Please," he begged. "Have mercy. She was trying give you a gift. Have mercy-"

"Mercy?" She flicked her wrist to Raven perched above her. He transformed into the executioner. "This is my type of mercy. Why, I've allowed you her last minutes together."

She waited, letting Mary Ann cry into Oliver's shirt, hugging him and crying some more. Oliver seemed stunned, not letting go of her and repeatedly kissing her forehead, whispering, "it's alright," in her ear. He brushed her dishevelled blonde locks away from her face.

Cath waved a hand at Raven. He stepped over to them, Oliver covering Mary Ann. Rupert watched too, eyes now alarmed.

"Step away boy, or I'll have both you heads."

"Take them then!" He shouted.

"What are you doing?" Mary Ann screamed.

Rupert left hurriedly, not wanting to watch the next scene.

"Mercy! Have mercy! Don't take him too! We were friends, Cath! We wanted to bake together!" Mary Ann screeched.

"Have I not already told you?" She snapped. "This is my mercy!"

"Sweetie, maybe she could go?" The king suggested. She usually forgot he was there during these proceedings. She glared at him.

Sighing, she turned to Oliver again. "You refuse to move?"

"Yes."

"You disobey your queen?"

"Yes."

Mary Ann wailed harder.

She turned to Raven. "Off with both their heads."

As soon as the scythe swung, Catherine released a breath she didn't know she was holding in.

She spent half a second looked at the two heads rolling in the floor before she snapped her fingers for the servants to clear the blood away.

It was just another day in Hearts.