The House of Cards

The House of Cards

My whole body aches as I sit up in bed, muscles pulling and screaming from the abuse I have put them though. I stretch my hands towards my feet, feeling the bones in my back pop and the muscles stretch.

The base of my head hums.

It has been days since the battle with Fate, and I still have not gotten used to Daniel being on the other end of the bond instead of his brother.

My stomach clenches.

It has been days since the battle, and days since I have left this room in the Palace of Fate, the door between the rest of the Arcana and I kept locked shut. The only one I have allowed in is Daniel.

My Soul-Bonded partner.

My Fool.

I turn to the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room that he has taken to sleeping in, surprised when I find it empty. He has not left my side since we retook our world.

But I can feel him on the end of the bond, and I know where to find him.

I slide from the bed, nightgown swishing against my legs as me feet brush the cold marble floor. Someone had supplied this room with clothing and toiletries for me in the past few days, so when I stride to the dresser, I pull drawers open to find clothing that is just the right size to fit me. In the closet, an assortment of dresses hang, but I ignore them, choosing a pair of pants and a loose white shirt.

Everything here is so fine, the clothing made of soft fabric, cut to flatter every part of you. Arcana clothing, meant to make you feel powerful.

But I do not feel powerful.

The demons whisper in the back of my mind.

I shove them away, tugging the shirt over my head. In the bathroom, I find a hair brush, quickly running it through my hair, pulling it half back, refusing to look in the mirror.

I know what I will see there.

Hollow cheeks and a jutting collar bone, trophies from my time in the Demon Keep and the Neither Prison. Dark circles from the little sleep I have been able to get. And emerald eyes filled with a haunted look that has not gone away. It probably never will.

No. I avoid looking in the mirror.

My bare feet patter across the floor as I stride to the door, reaching for the lock.

I turn it.

The door falls open.

My hand tightens on the handle. For the first time in days, I plan to venture out among my people, to face my allies.

My stomach tightens, and I feel bile rise in the back of my throat.

I haven't belonged to the Major Arcana since the day I killed my Soul-Bonded partner.

The tattoo on my left hand itches.

Traitorous, faithless Lady.

Destroyer of Worlds, Destroyer of Hopes.

Eat you magic, tear your bones.

Another reason why I love you.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

I have not told Daniel about the voices that whisper in the back of my mind. Of the demons and the shadows and him. He is still there, with his strange purple gaze and his smell and his voice, whispering, whispering, whispering.