nine of hearts

Bloody Breakfast

Day and night the knights of Ever After searched the kingdom for even the faintest glimpse of Jester, but he was nowhere to be found.

The palace was rendered into a state of dishabille within days as their Queen fell into a despondency, the King unable to bring her out of her constant woebegone expression.

"Please, my heart," Winston murmured faithfully as he held Rose's pale hand in his, trying to warm her cold skin. The sobriquet made Rose turn away, her pallor evident in the muted rays of sunlight filtering through the opened window. "You have to eat. I won't be here to accompany you, and for that I apologise. But I promise, my heart, we will catch that Jester."

It was the day after Rose had found Oscar's heart beating on her bed, which resulted in her deteriorating enthusiasm to do anything.

After Winston's consistent encouragement and assurance, Rose managed to follow Fara into the dining area that afternoon. She had not allowed Fara to dress her up in pompous gowns or plaster rouge on her cheeks. Her lips were pale, her skin waning. When maidservants bowed before her, she forced a smile in return.

"Come, My Lady," said Fara, guiding the Queen into the dining area through double doors. But the two of them stopped short when their eyes befell the empty table. "Oh, that's odd. I swear I was told that the cook had been preparing your favourite dishes all morning, knowing that you've agreed to come down and dine."

Rose placed her hand on Fara's shoulder and nodded solemnly.

"It's quite alright, Fara. Let's go to the kitchen," Rose said, her voice velvety as always despite the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Something isn't right.

They sauntered past the arches that led to a hall just outside the dining area, heading towards the kitchen. It was strange, not to hear the usual din of the cook preparing meals. Savannah was her name, and her mothers were Ever After cooks before her. She had kept that pride, being able to feed the King and Queen with the creations of her own hands.

But today, there was only silence.

Even the cook's assistants were nowhere in sight.

A brooding gush of wind blew against Rose's exposed neck as she took careful steps into the kitchen. "Savannah?" she called out, but no one answered. Fara muttered something behind her that she couldn't comprehend. Something about not feeling right. Well, she felt that too.

Indeed, a few of Rose's favourite dishes had been completed, left to cool on the clean marble countertops near the wall. Savannah loved to make desserts first—heart-shaped cherry cheese tarts and apple strudel, pecan pie, cinnamon rolls dusted with sugar. They were laid out with precision, but Rose's mouth failed to water when she found the ingredients of the main course scattered on the floor, as if pushed aside in haste.

"Fara..." Rose trailed off, lifting a trembling finger to point at torn cabbages strewn over the marbled floor. It led towards the storage room at the back, the metal door swung open and left ajar.

An acrid smell wafted in the air, and Fara stifled a gag behind the Queen.

"I'll go in first, My Lady," Fara said despite her alabaster face.

Rose shook her head and held out a hand so Fara stayed back. She lifted the skirt of her flimsy gown and walked through the jumbled ingredients until she stood in the doorframe. Her breath caught in her throat, her lungs constricting.

In the storage room, Savannah hovered in the air, impaled through the chest with a large, bone-cutting knife protruding from one of its places on the wall. Her honeyed eyes were dull, stilled as she stared at nothing. Mouth open, stagnant dried blood pooling in the corner of her lips.

On the tip of the blade protruding from the hole in her chest was her heart, pierced yet whole, beating slowly as if taunting Rose to come closer.

Fara's scream brought the guards inside, their footsteps thundering on marble as they rushed in to protect their Queen. It seemed like none of them had heard any commotion—nobody was aware of the monstrosity that occurred in the kitchen where the guards did not linger.

Yet all Rose could see was the single card peeking out of Savannah's breast pocket, the once pristine white cloth now covered with specks of blood.

The Two of Hearts.