The Final Deck

Chapter 2 - Unstable Alliances

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The council room was vast, its marble floors gleaming under the weight of history. The towering walls were adorned with the emblems of Wonderland's four suits, each throne a testament to the legacy of its realm. The Heartlands' crimson seat was the most commanding, a throne carved from rosewood, its backrest adorned with intricate thorns and wild roses. Across from it stood the sparkling white stone of the Diamonds, a seat that glittered in the light like a jewel. The black iron throne of the Spades was sleek and cold, an imposing silhouette that seemed to absorb the very light around it. And lastly, the Clubs’ dark throne was rougher, forged from iron but etched with delicate, swirling patterns, reminiscent of both strength and cunning.

At the center of the room sat the round table, its surface as polished and cold as the floor beneath it. The rulers of each suit gathered here, seated in their respective thrones, their eyes sharp with the weight of years of political games. A heavy silence stretched across the room as the monarchs settled into their seats. Tension hung thick in the air—each ruler was well aware of the stakes in this meeting, the delicate balance they all sought to maintain.

The first to enter was the Queen of Hearts. She moved with an air of calculated grace, her crimson gown trailing behind her like bloodstained water. Her fiery hair, like the flames of a fire yet to be tamed, framed a face sharp with intent, her eyes gleaming with a ferocity that made the other rulers uneasy. They rose from their thrones as she passed, offering the customary respect, though their movements were stiff, wary. No one dared speak.

As Carys took her seat on the Heartlands' throne, the others slowly resumed their places, the council at last coming to order. The heavy silence lingered for a beat longer, the air thick with anticipation. Then, her voice sliced through the stillness, calm but with an edge of authority.

“It is time for us to discuss the future of Wonderland,” she began, her tone a smooth purr. Her gaze swept over the room, holding the eyes of each monarch in turn. “Each of us has watched the balance of our realms shift over the years. Some have thrived; others have faltered. But the Heartlands have risen. And now, it is time for Wonderland to unite under one banner.”

A subtle murmur rippled through the room. The other rulers exchanged glances, none of them willing to speak just yet. Carys’ ambition was no secret; neither was her ruthlessness.

“The Heartlands stand at the pinnacle of power, and it is only natural that we expand,” she continued, her voice now steely, firm. “I propose that we claim the northern borderlands. It is a disputed territory, yes, but one that is ripe for resolution. If Wonderland is to have peace and stability, it will need to be governed under one rule. And that is the rule of the Heartlands.”

The words hung in the air, thick with meaning. There was no mistaking Carys’ intent. She wasn’t asking for agreement-she was demanding it.

A cold tension settled over the room. Gemma, the Queen of Diamonds, sat stiffly in her throne, the light from her shimmering stone throne reflecting in her eyes, turning them into hard, unforgiving mirrors. Though she was a queen of wealth and influence, her resistance was clear. She might not have the fire of Carys, but she was no fool.

“And what do you propose we do if we do not agree with your terms, Carys?” Gemma’s voice was soft, but underlined with a defiance that could not be ignored. “You cannot simply take what is not yours. The northern borderlands are not just yours for the taking. They are disputed for a reason," she stated simply, but firmly

Carys’ lips curled into a smile, but there was no warmth in it. It was cold and calculating, a predator’s grin. “If you do not agree,” she said, her tone slipping into something darker, “I trust you will find a way to be useful.”