Four Suits (Book 1)

Day 40-1: Spoons

DAY 40-1: SPOONS

Okay, so it's highly likely that Avel isn't a traitor. But, instead, dare Leda say: a lunatic.

A psychotically deranged being obsessed with none other than her.

The idea sends chills spiking like needles up her spine as the running water glides over her fingers, following an elegant curve into the sink below. She tunes out the clinks and clanks originating from the other maids gathered in the kitchen for breakfast.

"I hear the prince slaughtered another five servants this morning."

Conversations erupt left and right from the gathered maids alike. The most vivid deriving from the three from yesterday.

"Already?" demands another. "Didn't he kill three last night?"

"He hasn't let his madness show in months," notes the third. "Is he starting to feel sentimental with his engagement party tomorrow?"

"I don't even care. I'm so jealous, dammit!" whines the first. "Why won't His Highness slaughter me?"

"Ah," the second moans, "dying by his fingers would be a dream come true."

"If he needs an organ supply or somebody to rip to shreds he can take me!"

Leda's fingers rise from the water and clasps her mouth. She shuts her eyes, trying her hardest to swallow the bile that has risen in her throat.

She did this. Her. Because she went and asked a request from a Heart. One he'll tie her to until she dies by his own two hands.

Deep down, Leda doesn't want to admit what she saw yesterday. Yet, it vividly replays like some record in her brain. She was simply too frightened that no matter how much she wanted to muster her voice—plead for him to stop—she was too cowardly to try to fight him on his conviction.

He's using his servants as test subjects because Leda asked him to save Ro. And although every wretched clot of her blood boils in disgust at the realization she has no way of denying that he's doing this with her happiness in mind—the gratitude of his human-puppet wife.

But there has to be a better way around this. Nothing like using the lower class citizens as his guinea pigs.

Still... Leda grits her teeth, allowing her palm to fall from her lips. She peers over her shoulder, to the sparkly-eyes each Heart in the room possesses as they gush forth about the aspect of Avel's bloodlust. They're talking about the lives of their fellow coworkers like they're nothing. Ever since Leda came here, every Heart has appeared to care the least when it came to the essence of 'life.' As if even if Avel were to slaughter the entire Heart race they'd be completely fine with it.

Even last night, when she was forcefully escorted back to her room by Yana herself—and this morning when headmistress Farley personally 'scrubbed the mess' as if she were going to throw out mere trash...

They weren't turning blind-eyes. That far-off, hollow look each resident of Straeh has—it's not only the royal family. Rather, every Heart has gone utterly mad.

And it's taken Leda this long for things to finally click.

"Because Spades are greedy, they will loose what matters most to them. Because Hearts are passionate, their affection will drive them mad."

That one guard's words come back to haunt her.

Orian was right. She shouldn't have agreed to this. If only she can see him again. She needs to. They have to get out of here.