No Longer Heartless

Chapter 1: The Girl You Knew

Raven returned to Cath's shoulder as a myriad of servants rushed in to clean the blood from the floor. "He's dead, your majesty," he said timidly.

He was always very reserved these days, always frightened of invoking Cath's delicate temper.

"So that's what happens when you execute someone," Cath replied sarcastically. "I hadn't the faintest idea."

"Sorry, your majesty."

"Your m-majesty," a servant's voice said nervously, "you have a message from the king."

"Well?" Catherine huffed impatiently. "Don't just stand there! Tell me what it is!"

The servant handed the queen a piece of paper and scurried off.

The note read:

My Sweetheart,

I miss you terribly. I hope you are eagerly awaiting my return, as I am greatly excited at the prospect of seeing you again soon.

Your husband,
The King

Catherine gagged. "Sweetheart," she repeated with disgust. " I hate it when he calls me that."

"I know, your majesty," Raven nodded.

"Stop calling me that. Just go back to calling me by my name. I don't need my only friend calling me by a title."

"Yes, your ma- Cath."

"Better. When does the king return from his trip?"

"In about two weeks, Cath," Raven said meekly.

"Good," Cath said flatly before returning to her chamber to retire for the night.

"Thirteen people," remarked a mysterious voice.

"What?" Cath questioned with a furrowed brow.

"You executed thirteen people today."

"And why do you care, Cheshire?" Cath sighed.

"Because," the cat stated, appearing in the corner of her bedroom, "you're executing innocent people. You're not the little girl I once knew."

"The girl you knew died with Jest," Cath spat angrily. "Get out of my sight."

"As you wish, your majesty," Cheshire sneered, spitting "your majesty" as if it were a questioning of dignity.

"Good riddance," Cath groaned through gritted teeth.

After Cheshire left, Cath sat down on her bed and let her hair down from her chignon after slipping into a nightgown.

There was a soft tap on her window.

Cath ignored it at first, but then it became louder.

Tap, tap, tap.

Cautiously, Cath made her way over to the window and opened it. "Who's there?" She called out with uncertainty.

Suddenly, a ghostly-looking girl popped up. "Lady Catherine," she said with an eerie glee, "how good it is to see you again."

"What do you want, Elsie?" The queen spat as painful memories crashed into her like waves in a violent storm.

"I have come to help you," Elsie replied, talking seriously for perhaps the first time in her life—however old she was.

"You help me?" Cath scoffed. "I am the Queen of Hearts. I do not need help from a lowly little girl. You hold no power here. Be gone!"

"Hold your tongue, Lady Catherine. I have something of great value to you. Should you be willing, I will return it to your possession."

Cath eyed the girl suspiciously. "Go on," she said slowly.

"My sisters, Tillie and Lacie, have died. Your heart failed us. It is of no use to me now," Elsie sighed. "I would like to give it back to you, return it to it's place."