Heart of a Diamond: A Rakta Diamond Story

At the End

Rakta made his way slowly through Heart Castle, barely paying attention to the slaves and guards bustling past him, giving him a wide berth as he walked down the hall. He couldn't stop thinking and wanted nothing more than to retreat to his room and let his mind have him.

"Rakta."

He slowed as the familiar, hated voice rang off the marble walls. Rakta inhaled deeply and schooled his features to neutrality. He couldn't afford to give anything away.

Not here. Not yet.

"What did he have to say?" Queen Mavros looked up at him, her head cocked, expression hungry and poisonous.

Rakta bowed low, hatred bitter in his throat. "Nothing, Your Majesty."

His eyes widened minutely when she grabbed his chin and forced him back up, fingers pressing hard into the bones of his jaw. Her eyes, which always seemed so dull to Rakta, glowed almost feverishly as she asked, "Are you sure about that, Ace?"

Rakta blinked slowly, and the Queen shoved him away. "Useless. I find myself questioning the decision to keep you around, Rakta."

"He said the Spade King will kill you and claim his rightful throne." Rakta almost wanted to stop the words as they came out of his mouth, but couldn't. Not as freedom seeped slowly through him, reminding him of who he truly was, who he really served.

The Queen's lips parted in surprise. Rakta held still as her hand flashed out, palm colliding with his cheek. He tasted blood on his lip but didn't look at Mavros. He just stood there with his head turned, the left side of his face burning.

Then, like she always did, Mavros took his face gently in her hands, forcing him to turn his gaze upon her. Rakta struggled against the urge to pull away, knowing it would tip her off. That anything less than complete submissiveness would let her know he was free. Or even almost free.

She brushed her thumb against the side of his mouth, making the blood smear across his skin, warm and slippery. She stood on her toes, bringing her mouth to his.

Rakta let her kiss him, sick to his stomach. The only thing that kept him still was the promise he had just made.

To Hatter. To himself. To Avinos.

Mavros pulled away with a small sigh, her hands still resting on his chest. She smiled up at him, her lips red with his blood. With a small, bright laugh, she said, "Rakta, my Ace, I'm afraid Madison is, well, quite mad to believe something so silly."

He barely suppressed a flinch as she claimed him as her own, hanging onto control by the very tips of his fingers.

She patted her hand softly against the same cheek she had slapped. "Go, rest. I will need you and Tamsus at your best for the coming days."

"Yes, m-my Queen." Rakta bowed and turned on his heel, hurrying away, praying she hadn't noticed his hesitation.

Rakta stalked down the winding halls, making his way swiftly now to the northeastern tower of the castle where he resided, furious at his own tongue for very nearly betraying him. He all but flew up the steps and slammed his way into his quarters.

He flung another set of doors open and stepped out onto a small balcony, eyes burning into the distance as he pretended that he could see Diamond Castle from here, the corner of the castle closest to his true home. He choked on his own breath and rubbed furiously at his mouth, acid sharp in the back of his throat. He turned his back on the north.

Without his permission, Rakta's eye blurred and he fell to his knees, leaning against the balustrade. The warm stone was pleasant against his back as he tried to rein in his mind and avoid his memories.

Hatter's words repeated in his head. If you make it out.

Rakta very nearly laughed, his chest beginning to ache against the force of years' worth of buried pain and choked on fury.

It was only funny because Rakta suspected a man like Hatter already knew that he had no intentions of emerging from this battle alive.

Rakta was tired.

He was tired and hurt and alone, with no one to sooth his soul's ragged edges or wash away his wounds.

He just wanted an end. An end to all of this.

Rakta wrapped his arms around his shins and rested his head on his knees, finally letting go.

Finally letting himself remember.

Letting himself mourn her.