A/N: I think it's weird that it doesn't seem like anyone's written a backstory for The Queen Of Hearts. I thought she deserved one, so with a few months and a lot of words, this was produced. This is probably the longest thing I've ever submitted to Fanfiction. If there's mistakes near the end, you'll just have to deal with it. I had to get it up before the actual 'Queen of Hearts' episode, because it's not like I knew that would happen and I didn't want my work to go to waste.
Also, this is basically Chapter 12 of my story, Empty, but I wanted to repost it to encourage myself to make it an actual story instead of a really long oneshot. Or, I just feel the need to advertise myself vainly.
I love this chapter. (End rant)
QU€€N
The Queen Of Hearts has lost her tarts, and she doesn't know where to find them.
It was only a silly nursery rhyme, she would tell herself, when her days were so bleak the sky in Wonderland turned pale. On the days when the men whispered of Regina, or the Duchess, or all the things she hated. A silly nursery rhyme.
But if you picked it apart, it meant much, much more.
The Queen Of Hearts has lost her marbles; silly, fragile thing. She's on the road to insanity, she can't find her way back again.
She's lost her heart too. They all deserved to have their hearts stolen. Stolen from them and kept in a little box. No sweethearts named Tani for them, oh no.
Just an empty box. A cage.
QU€€N
Cordissa ran her fingers across the ribbons. Satin, made from the thread of silk worms. In every colour imaginable.
She pulled a burgundy one from the box, caressing it between her fingers. Satin and ribbons always made everything better. They could cover up any pain, she was certain of that. But the worst Cordissa had to deal with was being bitten by the creatures in the garden. Fourteen years old and no real challenge.
That was all fine with Cordissa. She liked being safe and warm, like ribbons and fireplaces. Like stone walls decorated in satin, to hide the coldness with colour.
"Cordissa?"
She put the burgundy ribbon back in its place, plucking up a gold one instead and tying it in her hair. It was a boy's voice, probably some royal her mother wanted her to meet. Her mother was always trying to bring them more friends that were as wealthy as they were. Cordissa was also quite sure her mother was trying to marry her off already.
She turned with a bright smile. Surprisingly, it was not a pompous royal, several years her senior, but the handsomest mother could find. Cordissa gasped in pleasant surprise. It was a boy, rather than a man. Fourteen and a half, she supposed. His birthday was in six months. She'd always had a knack for ages.
He had blond and brown hair. It reminded her of straw, which she had never liked, because she hated the way it pricked at her. His eyes were brown, and warmer than she'd ever seen. They looked like chocolate, ready to melt at her instructions. Ready to melt all for her.
He was wearing a blue tunic. His teeth were perfect, which was hard to find. Cordissa had always been particular about teeth. He had a brown beauty mark on the right side of his face, right above his lip. The boy was staring at her earnestly. He smelled like wildflowers. Perhaps he was a merchant for perfumes, or worked in The Garden.
"Y-yes?" Cordissa was surprised. She hated to stutter, but she found faking it brought out the worst in people. She wanted to see this boy's very worst.
"My name is Tanner." He studied her carefully, as if she was a bandersnatch about to charge. He jerked to look around her, saw the box spilling with ribbons. "I...I've come..." Tanner seemed to have trouble getting his thoughts straight. "Well, your mother told me to come. To see you." So he was a royal.
"A-all r-right, Ta-anner." Cordissa winced as she summoned the stutter again. It made her sound like a nervous, twittery thing. That made the drunken men mother wanted her to marry laugh. Stuttering was a way to cripple everyone's chivalric walls. It was how to see what was really inside. "Wha-what did she tell you, exactly?"
"Just...just to see you." He frowned. Was he an amnesiac? "I like your ribbons."
"O-oh, thank you." Cordissa could see her blush in the mirror. It made her seem even more girly and innocent. Dumb as some of the other princesses from far away.
QU€€N
Another royal. Cordissa was royally sick of them. A whole year older and her mother hadn't changed.
"You need a husband." Her mother would insist, in that terribly nasally voice. Cordissa was glad the only thing they had in common were their brunette locks and chin. "Your pretty little face won't last forever."
"Cordissa..." The man said, twirling a piece of her hair in his fingers. She wanted to smack his hand away. So hard he would bleed.
"Y-yes?" She'd forgotten his name already.
The stupid royal's fingers were on her neck again, feather light touches that would inadvertently make any girl —including her— shiver. He presses his lips to her ear. Sure, he is the most handsome man she has ever seen. Yes, he would make a great husband. But no, she is not attracted to him.
Cordissa is attracted to men who are vulnerable. Men who have walls that crumble under her gaze, leaving them weak and unprotected. She loves men who would give her anything, sacrifice anything. Men who are desperate to please her.
"I love you," A voice whispers, tickling her ear and sending a tingling up her spine. "Let me love you. I'll love you forever. You are beautiful." His lips rove across her ear, down her jawline and to her neck. She lets him explore her. She even releases a moan for him. He doesn't love her, obviously. He hardly knows her. But he is handsome, and he could love her, and he would give her anything.
But he is not vulnerable.
This man's walls are papery thin, she knows, but stronger and more unbreakable than most. His walls were happy to let someone know him, but they would not crumble. They would never crumble. He would never be vulnerable for her.
A pair of brown eyes bloom in her mind. They don't belong to this man. This man's eyes are dark as obsidian. The eyes that had melted into sight before her were...like chocolate. Chocolate that was so easy to melt. So easy to make vulnerable.
Cordissa shivered, but not for the man that was holding her now: his arms so tight on her body she might dissolve, and his lips sucking her neck so hard he might draw blood. Her shudders were meant only for those vulnerable chocolate eyes. She wished their owner would run his fingers down her spine.
Tanner.
"It's...not a problem." He stepped towards her, and Cordissa turned to close the box. Suddenly a hand was there, stopping her. A hand with fingers softer than the satin she adored. "These ribbons...they remind me of...my sister." Cordissa found she liked his slow, hesitant way of speaking.
"R-really?" She's tired of stuttering already.
"Yes."
The royal starts sucking on her ear and sliding his fingers along her spine, reminding her that she's not with Tanner. She's with some stupid prince.
"I-I can't do this." Cordissa says, pushing him away. "I'm in love with someone else." Actually, she's only attracted to someone else. Someone she hasn't seen in a year and might never see again. Who was whisked out by her mother the moment he mentioned his sister. She hasn't seen him since.
"What?" The man splutters. His dark eyes are boiling over with something. He's clearly not used to not getting what he wants.
"I don't love you. I can't marry you. I don't even remember your name." Cordissa plucks her ribbon off the floor where he dropped it and ties it back in her hair. Green like leaves. Rebirth.
QU€€N
Running, running, running. Cordissa hates running. It makes her feel like she's being hunted. She's beyond the reach of safe stone walls with fireplaces and ribbons.
The lady said Tanner would be in the next town.
She said he'd wear a green cape with a brown crest with a boar. Cordissa was sure that Tanner wasn't royalty. She didn't care either way, it was just important to know.
QU€€N
Cordissa stumbled into the square. Her knees and cheek were cut and bleeding. Her hair was a mess and her dress and cloak were ripped. Cordissa's ribbon was in danger of falling out.
"Tanner?" She called, staggering like a weakling. Good. She could find him easily then. His heart was too gold for his own good.
Which was exactly why she liked him.
"Is there a Tanner here?"
The townspeople stood in multi-colored masses. Ugly. All of them. They should cover themselves up. Hide their prying eyes.
She was none of their business.
"Tanner! Do any of you know a Tanner?"
The townspeople remained silent and judging.
"Cordissa?"
Her ears perked at the name, at the voice. Cordissa's eyes peeled the crowd. There. Green cape whirling, brown chocolate eyes. Pushing through the crowd and calling her name.
"Tanner!" She flings herself into his arms, even though the townspeople are watching. It makes her look even weaker, which is useful and dangerous at the same time.
"Cordissa..." His voice hisses her name, every syllable dribbling like honey. The way he says the 'S's makes her shiver. "What are you doing here?"
"I came for you," She whispers. It doesn't matter how fleeting their time was. "I love you."
"What?" Tanner stumbles back, but pulls her into an alley by the hand all the same. The townspeople have wandered off. "You...you hardly know me." His pensive way of speaking is mostly gone now. Cordissa misses it already.
"But I haven't stopped thinking about you." She smiles. His chocolate eyes drip with just enough longing to let her know he feels the same.
"Your...your stutter..." He says finally. Cordissa's smile curves delicately downward. His eyes aren't so filled with lust anymore.
"Never had it." She whispers.
QU€€N
Tanner leads her to a rickety house. Like all the others, it towers much higher than should be allowed. It reminds her of a dingy wooden castle.
She can't help staring at him. He's gotten much more attractive. His jawline is stronger, his hair darker. But Tanner's eyes are as jumbled and soft as always. Cordissa's eyes follow the line of muscles under his billowing green cape. His posture is firmer too. Finally, her eyes rest on his birthmark.
"I love you," Cordissa says again, still smiling, as he pulls her inside.
Tanner looks up sharply. "You don't know that."
"Yes, I do." Cordissa reaches a hand to his face and he allows her fingers to trace his jawline. But his eyes are closed and he's tense beneath her fingertips. His hand grips hers too tightly.
"Stop...saying that."
Cordissa frowns. "You're not the Tanner I remember."
"And you're not the Cordissa I remember." He says bitterly, dropping her hand. He must still be angry about the stutter. "Either you changed, or I never really knew you at all." His brown eyes rip away from her, and she feels like his gaze took away a piece of her heart.
"But I love you." She's become addicted to saying that. Addicted to his eyes and longing for his touch.
Tanner stares at his hands. Finally, he looks up. "How do you know?" His voice is like a whisper. Quiet and paper thin and almost broken.
Cordissa leans towards him until their lips are millimeters apart. "Let me show you," She whispers. Almost against his own will, he closes the gap.
QU€€N
"Don't you get tired of staying here?"
"No," She says with a smile, setting out her baking next to the woolen clothing he's set out.
"Don't...don't you get tired of the others glaring at you?" Tanner's brow is knit in the most adorable way. Unconsciously, she reaches up and runs a hand through his hair.
"You're worth it." She whispers. He smiles, and she slips into the back while he sells.
QU€€N
Tanner twirls her hair around his finger. Cordissa leans into him with a smile. He's so easy to smile around. It's so easy to forget her mother, to forget every self-serving royal she's been with. Cordissa still hasn't figured out why her mother brought Tanner to her. He was a lord's son, but his father died in a war and his mother was sick soon after. The head maid threw him out, pretended he had died of grief. But Tanner still wore the cloak.
"You're gorgeous." Tanner mumbles, his fingers moving down her back. Cordissa loves that word. He doesn't usually call her beautiful, or fair, or simply 'pretty'. Tanner has dozens of incredible words: stunning, gorgeous, unrivaled, angelic, unearthly. "Sometimes I wish I had you all to myself. That no one else could see you."
Cordissa laughs. She's always liked her laugh. High and light and dancing. "Oh?"
"Sometimes I'm scared they'll see how perfect you are and take you away. Steal your looks all for themselves. Sometimes I wish only I could look upon your beauty." One of his hands was twirling her hair while the other stroked her back.
Suddenly, he dropped his hands. "It's stupid." Tanner said, Cordissa turned to see his delicate scowl. "It's...petty."
Cordissa pouted. "It's not. Sometimes I wish I had your heart all to myself."
QU€€N
"Let's run away."
Cordissa looks up. It feels like he's stolen the thought straight from her head and pressed it between his lips.
"Where?" She says. He's supposed to be slightly more logical. But she's wanted to leave these townspeople and their glares. Tanner is the only reason she's still here.
"Anywhere." He grins. "Let's go tomorrow. Let's go north."
Cordissa grins. Anywhere with Tanner is where she wants to be.
QU€€N
"My uncle's castle isn't far from here," Cordissa told him. They'd run out of food and merchandise a long time ago. No one would take them in anyway.
"Are you sure this is a...good idea?"
"No. But it's the best we have. Just because the road there is dangerous doesn't mean it won't be worth it at the end."
QU€€N
"Cordissa."
She whirls at her name. The tone is inflected all wrong, more like a snarl than a call of recognition. Tanner squeezes her hand tighter.
"I see you brought a pet."
Her uncle's castle is so close.
"No. He's my friend." Tanner shoots her a betrayed, hurt look that makes her want to take the words back. But she hasn't even identified who the person is. She can't put Tanner in danger.
The person steps out from the shadows of a pine, and she only notices because his armour flashes like a prism in the sunlight. He grins crookedly, black tunic unwrinkled and dark sword polished to perfection. The Shadow Knight. Her mother's favourite, paid to kill people she doesn't like.
And now her mother's favourite knight has come for her only daughter.
"I see you still remember me. Good. Now what's the name of your lovesick puppy?"
"Tanner," The man in question says quietly. His eyes are dejected, like he's already given up. Why has he already given up?
"Very creative," The Shadow Knight shoots back, sneering. "Was your family in the leather-tanning business, Tanner?"
"No..." Tanner whispers. He's thinking carefully: his cute, pensive way of speaking revealed. Deciding whether or not to say something, probably about his family.
"No." The knight repeats. "Well, it's still a dreadful name."
"Enough s-small ta-alk." Cordissa snarls, but her fake stutter slips through. She's not sure why she finds herself needing it. She already knows how callous this man is. She's seen him at work, seen the merciless twinkle in his brown eyes. Brown like rust and dried blood, not melting chocolate. "Why are you here?"
The Shadow Knight grins. "Your mother sent me." And suddenly every piece fall into place and the knight's sword is in Tanner's chest before she can scream.
And then the knight is gone and the life is fading fast from Tanner's eyes.
"Tanner!" She runs to him, and she knows that even if he lives she will avenge him. But she knows he won't. She's good at figuring out ages. Maybe she's also good at figuring out how old people are when they die. Eight days until his sixteenth birthday.
"Cordissa..." She kneels at his side, trying to see through the tears streaming from both of their eyes. "Be... strong, okay?"
"Y-you—y-you k-know I a-a-am." And for the first time in her life her stutter is real.
"Yeah...I love you." He smiles, a real smile. And his eyes are like melting chocolate —like they've always been— but this time they're melting down until there's nothing left.
"Don't- don't s-say it like it-it's g-g-goodbye." She sobs, and her whole world and her whole life is falling apart around her.
"It..." He pauses, deciding whether or not he should say what she knows he has to. "It is."
And her heart is breaking as his bleeds. And she's crying as his body goes limp beneath her.
And she's wondering if her mother knew when she was born, if she knew this would happen and she knew her name would be a curse. She wonders if her mother knows her heart is smashing, shattering, scattering into a thousand pieces. Cordissa. It really can't be a coincidence that her name means 'heart'.
QU€€N
"Uncle! Uncle! Open up!"
Cordissa's been pounding his door for hours. Tanner's cold body is limp against her. It just doesn't make sense. Why isn't he comforting her? Why are her hands bleeding? Why are his hands cold?
"Who's there?"
Cordissa nearly screams in relief. She recognizes that voice. "Uncle! It's me, Cordissa!"
"Who's that with you?"
First, she wonders where her uncle is and how he can see her. But then Cordissa realizes she's too tired and heartbroken to care. "This is— this was— Ta-anner." And her not-so fake stutter betrays her again.
"I see. What is it you want?"
That's about the point where Cordissa remembers her mother's ramblings on how her uncle is at least half-crazy, driven mad my loneliness and paranoia. But that doesn't matter. She might just be crazy herself, driven mad by betrayal and loss.
"It's a very long story and it's cold out here." Cordissa calls, like it's some sort of secret passcode to get in.
A throaty laugh echoes from the halls inside. "Very well. Enter, Cordissa."
The massive gates —Tanner might have called them majestic or unnaturally enormous or say they were made for giants; but he's not here to say those things, is he?— swing open and then slam shut behind her. Uncle steps from the shadow of a wall with a massive grin: asking her how she likes his castle and saying that he missed her and her stubborn, stuck-up 'finesse'.
Her uncle's castle is rather standard, cold and impressive and huge, made from 'expensive' grey stone. But all his tapestries and banners are green, and the flowers that line shelves and layer the floor are a kind she's never seen before. They look a little like lilies, but Cordissa doesn't think lilies come in the green-blue colour.
"It's very interesting, Uncle." Cordissa says, and then all she can bring herself to do is fall onto the floor and stroke Tanner's hair, like it'll bring him back.
"'Interesting' is good, right?" Her uncle leans over her, his massive grin curling the tips of his dark mustache. Cordissa thinks maybe he really is crazy. "Now come on. We've got lots more to see."
"I think I'd just like to sleep now, Uncle." She sighs, staring at Tanner's blank face.
"Very well. Your chambers are this way." Uncle leads her to a stone room covered with green rugs and tapestries and a green canopy bed. And Cordissa finds herself wishing everything was red, like the rage she's feeling inside or the blood of her still-beating heart.
"Why do you keep lugging that dead boy around everywhere, anyway?"
Cordissa freezes. It's like someone has injected her soul —because her heart is too mangled and broken to feel anymore— with ice. "Because I love him!" She snarls, and frost captures every word. Her uncle looks shocked, and Cordissa recomposes herself. "Loved." She corrects, and she's too tired to sound apologetic.
Her uncle sits down on the bed, jostling the green comforter and patting the space next to him. Reluctantly, Cordissa sits. Not all of her manners are gone. This is his house. She's a guest.
"I get it." He says. And for the first time her Uncle looks calm. Almost broken. He's like the shattered fragments of her heart, all that's left after it was ripped out. "Once upon a time, I loved someone too."
Cordissa stops staring forlornly at the floor and examines his eyes, a pallid blue-green. "What happened to her?"
Uncle met her gaze, eyes darkening. "What happened since the last time I saw you?"
He gave her a look, like she'd get no more information until she gave some. "My mother set me up with a million and one royals. She introduced me to Tanner by accident, and a year later I ran away and found him. We...stayed in a town for a while. But they hated my guts and they kept staring at me, all the time. So we ran. And we were going to stay here for a while but then..." Cordissa choked in a shaky breath. "Then my mother sent the knight to kill him and he..." Died. She's not ready to sat it aloud yet. If she does it'll be true, and if it's true she might go crazy.
"Oh." Uncle runs a hand through his rumpled hair. "Okay." He glances at her hesitantly. "You can stay here as long as you have to."
Cordissa caresses Tanner's hair. His head is on her lap, but it's disgustingly cold. "Thank you. But I'm not staying long." She stares intently into her uncle's pale eyes. She needs someone on her side. "I'm going back to my kingdom. I'm getting revenge on my mother."
QU€€N
Cordissa doesn't sleep well. All she can think of is Tanner's dead body, laying beside her bed. She's terrified she'll roll over and his eyes will be wide open. She's horrified by the thought of those once-beautiful brown eyes staring at her with nothing but death in them. No love, no softness, no concentration, no pity. Not even anger. Just death.
Or maybe anger. Maybe if she looks, his eyes will be black and full of hatred. Maybe his cold, limp fingers will reach for her, tighten around her neck, choke out her air...
Cordissa doesn't breathe. He could hear her. If she moves, something will get her. It's like a childhood nightmare; where the shadows look like people and you're so scared that you hide under your blankets and don't move until morning.
She has to breathe. She's going to suffocate if she doesn't.
Cordissa heaves in the loudest, shakiest breath she's ever taken. Louder and shakier than the one after her first kiss, with some man whose name she can't remember. He was several years older and his eyes were a beautiful green, like the woods at twilight.
Her eyes are squeezed shut. She opens them hesitantly, unfurling her fingers. It's dark, but she can make out the canopy of her bed.
Cordissa rolls over, fingernails digging into her palms. She's imagining a thousand different scenarios of what she might see on the floor.
Tanner's face is pale. He looks like he's sleeping, except that his nose doesn't twitch and the line of his mouth is too hard —like he's in pain. The other dead giveaway is the dark stain across his chest. Dried blood.
She's shaking again. Cordissa is willing to bet that her voice would quiver, too, if she used it.
She can't stand the thought of him on her floor. He's dead. He's a body. No soul, no thoughts, no love, no hate, no voice, no spirit. No heart.
Dead. Empty. Like a rock.
She has to do something. She can't stand another second of him laying there. He needs a grave: with flowers and colour and his favourite quote carved into the headstone— "We're only ever as good as our imagination." Cordissa had no idea where he'd heard it, but he'd say it whenever the townspeople's glares were particularly harsh and the brilliant blue sky was particularly grey.
Tanner deserved a funeral. And she'd make her own dress like he'd taught her to. And she'd find fuchsias for him, because those were his favourite flowers. She didn't care how hard it would be. She'd find a nice bouquet of fuchsias and she'd hold them during the service and then she'd put them on his grave and talk to him like he was alive even though he wasn't.
And then she'd get her revenge.
QU€€N
Cordissa's crying. She can't fake cry. She hardly ever cries.
The fuchsias are shaking in her trembly hands. The leaves are falling off, spiraling down, hitting the ground. Story of her life.
She wants them all to leave. None of them really knew him. They're all staring at her, just like they always have. They have those same judging, resentful eyes. They're still out for blood. And no matter how much Cordissa hurts, the blood will always have to be hers.
She wants to yell 'I'm a princess', but she's exiled. She wants to scream 'off with their heads', but she can't make that call anymore. All she can do is stand over the grave in her dull black dress with her bright red fuchsias and her shiny wet tears.
"I loved you, Tanner." Just breathe in. "I'll always love you." Just breathe out. "You knew me like no one else did. I could tell you anything. You knew all if my fears and you understood all my thoughts. No matter how awful I felt, or how bad my day was, you could always make it better. You knew all the right things to say, and all the things not to say." Breathe in. "You were an incredible person; an enchanting person." Breathe out. "I'm lucky to know you." Breathe, breathe, breathe. "To-to ha-have known you." Breathe. "I love you, Tanner." Stop crying. "I love you so much my heart might explode and my castle might crumble." Tanner used to say that. All the time. Her castle was bigger, and his was empty.
She'd rather have an empty castle than one full of planning and hate.
She'd rather be alone than with her mother.
She'd rather be the last person alive.
She'd rather own the last castle.
"Goodbye," Cordissa whispers, opening her fingers. The flowers spill across his grave. Bright red, like drops of blood. She squeezes her eyes shut, tries to forget.
She can't forget.
"I'll never forget you, Tanner." And then she can't say anything else because she's crying too hard and her Uncle is taking her away. She doesn't want to leave him —which is stupid because he's already left her.
QU€€N
"Goodbye, Uncle."
He jerked his head up from his work. The desktop was coated in pages of his sprawling, intricate scrawl. They had to be plans of some sort, but the writing was too messy to decipher. "You're leaving?"
"I have to," She says, clutching the dagger tighter. "I have to get revenge on my mother. I have to save the Kingdom."
Her uncle sighed, running a hand over his face. "Fine. But my door is always open, Cordissa."
"I know," Cordissa whispers. "Thank you, Uncle." She puts her arms around him hesitantly. "Thank you for putting up with me for two weeks."
He pats her back gently. "I liked having you, Cordissa." Her uncle pulls back gently and smiles. "Even if you were a miserable wreck."
Cordissa tries to laugh, but it stops in her throat. She steps back and pauses. "Did you ever find love again?"
"No," He says honestly. "But you will."
Cordissa manages a smile and hugs him one more time. "Goodbye."
She's fairly certain it'll be the last time she sees him.
QU€€N
There used to be this saying that home is the easiest place in the world to get back too. Her father used to tell her that when she was lost, all she had to do was follow her feet.
Cordissa had never believed that. Her brain was controlling her feet, after all, so her feet then had to be following her brain. And if her feet were following her brain rather than themselves, she couldn't very well follow them either. Therefore, she would be following her brain instead of her feet, and if she couldn't remember which way to go she wouldn't be getting anywhere. The saying, in itself, proved to be false. And Cordissa couldn't follow a false statement, either.
Somehow, following her feet was ridiculously easy. She just walked out the front door of the castle and started walking. Of course, she didn't want to walk by the place where Tanner had been killed, so her brain had some input. But other than that, Cordissa just walked and hoped she was going in the right direction.
She didn't count the days. She slept when she felt like it (which wasn't often) and ate as she walked. Cordissa hardly stopped. She was driven almost solely by vengeance.
She passed through the town where she'd found Tanner. Cordissa could ignore their states, this time. What she couldn't ignore were the constant flashbacks that seemed to hit her at every corner. She remembers her hand in his as he leaned over a cart to look at fabrics. She remembers him showing her a book of recipes and suggesting she sell some baking with the wool. She remembers the townspeople glaring at her and Tanner whispering about how they were only jealous. She'd laughed, right there in the middle of the street. It only made them scowl more, but it made her feel better.
Cordissa kept going. She was sure she was heading south, but for the most part she disregarded daylight and direction.
She travelled through towns that looked vaguely familiar. They were probably towns she'd been in before, looking for Tanner,
It had probably taken a month, but finally she reached it.
The castle she had once called home stood proud and tall, just like it always had. The walls were covered in satin like they always had been, to hide the ugliness that had always been there. Cordissa was fairly certain that the staff would almost be exactly the same, and the garden the same, and the tunnels she'd never bothered to explore as unlit and cobweb-y as always. She was the one who was different.
Cordissa doesn't like ribbons anymore; she can't even remember the last time she'd worn one. She doesn't particularly like fireplaces either. Burgundy now reminded her of dried blood instead of expensive furniture. She is stronger now. She's loved and lost and she won't stand for royals touching her. She won't stand for her mother controlling her life anymore.
She doesn't stutter anymore.
She doesn't trust people automatically; she doesn't test them anymore.
She doesn't give people a chance, but she's safer that way.
Cordissa was stronger, and she was here for revenge.
QU€€N
Cordissa knew for a fact that there was a tunnel somewhere that led from library to outside. If she was lucky, she'd find it right away and it would be a straight passage. Even better, the fireplace would be out. Of course, Cordissa was never very lucky anymore.
She'd never read much, but the library was one of the coziest places in the castle. The floor was completely covered in blue and brown rugs. There was a fireplaces, and lush chocolate brown furniture. The walls were completely covered in bookshelves that his the stone grey walls, and even though the books were always room temperature, they seemed to suck up all the coldness from the stone.
Cordissa often found ribbons, stuck between the pages of books. Half of her collection had been found in the library, and the rest her father brought back for her whenever he went away. Sometimes a servant would give her a strip of satin off of a dress that had to be hemmed. One of those particularly did all of her seeing in the library, so Cordissa figured that before she'd gleaned her obsession with ribbons, the servant had just slipped the slips of satin into books and pretended they were bookmarks. They could have been bookmarks, but Cordissa found they made much better hair ribbons.
She spent a lot of time in the library in the winter. Cordissa found that it was the only time she ever read anything. That particular day she was reading a romance novel rather than the usual adventure story. She couldn't quite remember the reason she'd chosen that story, but it probably had something to do with the royal purple ribbon she'd found pressed between its pages.
Cordissa had curled herself up in her favourite chair and cracked open the pages. The servant wasn't there, so the fire was out and she was awfully cold. After six pages, she couldn't stand the cold anymore. Cordissa crawled into the fireplace in search of matches or a secret fire lever or something. Instead she found the door.
Cordissa had leaned on the back stone wall of the fireplace, and it had cracked open to reveal a passage wide enough for someone to walk through and tall enough that they could stand up straight.
Now, Cordissa had never been a very curious girl. Curiosity always led to danger, and she was very wary of danger. The only adventures she had were one's she'd read in books. She'd rather organize her ribbons than explore. So, rather than climb into the dark and spidery tunnel, she managed to pry the door closed and crawled back into her seat. A few hours passed before a servant showed up to light the fire.
QU€€N
The tunnel was obviously going to be hard to find. No castle would want someone to be able to sneak into their walls.
After hours of fruitless searching and ducking from guards, Cordissa eventually found it.
She'd spotted the Shadow Knight up on a parapet and slipped into a crease between two walls. The moment she pressed herself against the cold stone, a door creaked open. Without hesitation, Cordissa slipped into the passage.
It was so narrow that she had to walk sideways, but she managed to shuffle far enough in that she was left in pitch darkness. Cordissa didn't care if it was a trap. She'd fight her way out if she had to, and then she'd kill her mother. She just had to keep a hand on each wall (not that it was hard) and move forward. Sideways.
The tunnel sloped upward steeply, so that she had to crawl up the passage. The stones were slippery, so it was like climbing up a muddy hill. On the brighter side, at least it was wider now.
Cordissa's hands snapped through cobwebs so many times she lost count. She was conscious of the things crawling over her feet. It was too dark to see what they were, but she had a feeling that the old Cordissa would have been terrified.
Finally, the slope leveled out. The tunnel was too wide to have a hand on each wall, so she ran one along the left wall and stretched the other out in front of her. Her hand smacked into a wall, stubbing all the fingers on her right hand. Cordissa scrambled both hands along the wall, trying to find a crack so she could pry it open. Finally, her long nails caught a crack and she prised the door open.
Cordissa's eyes were met with red. It was brighter than the tunnel, but the light was clearly filtering through a tapestry of some sorts. Even though she was looking at the stitching backwards, Cordissa recognized it.
It was in her room. The tapestry her mother had told her was haunted as a child, that she had never dared touch. Later on, she'd been told there were spider eggs tangled into the weave. Once, Cordissa had found a spider in her bed. She'd assumed it was from the tapestry, and never thought of going anywhere near it again.
Cordissa stepped out from behind the tapestry, leaving the tunnel open in case she had to make a quick escape.
Why would there be a tunnel that led directly from the outside into her room?
In a flash, Cordissa understood. It was a safety precaution. In case her mother needed to get her killed.
But then she'd ran.
And her mother had killed Tanner instead.
Cordissa grit her teeth and balled her fists in fury. She dared someone to come after her. She wanted to punch something.
Her wish was granted.
The Shadow Knight raced into her room, ebony blade drawn. He was grinning coldly, and his helmet was missing. He purred her name, but it sounded more like a snarl.
Cordissa clenched her fists. She wasn't trained to fight and she didn't even have a sword. All she had was her broken heart and a need for vengeance.
Her heart.
The Shadow Knight charged her, sword raised and ready to deliver the death blow. "Die!" He screamed, his face contorted with rage.
Cordissa stood still, and she waited. She uncurled her fists. There was magic in the air. A sick kind of unreachable magic, but it was there. Cordissa imagined that her fingertips were draining the magic from the air around her. The knight charged closer, until he was in arm's reach. His sword towered higher and higher, tensing to slash down. Cordissa's fingers touched his chest. She breathed in slowly, ignoring the sword. She pressed her fingers inside him, feeling the blood and muscle around her hand. Cordissa pulled his heart from his chest.
The knight gasped, sword clattering to the ground. He waited for his breathing to stop and his body to crumple.
Cordissa studied the heart in her hands. It still thumped rhythmically, but it was caged between her fingers. It glowed with a harsh light. She tried to keep her fingers from clenching, but as she gazed upon the man the heart belonged to, Cordissa couldn't help it. She clenched her fist.
The man drew his last breath as the heart crumpled into dust.
Cordissa stared at her hands in wonder and disgust. She'd literally ripped his heart from his chest. And then she'd crushed it and he'd died.
If only she could do it again.
Cordissa picked up the black sword. She'd earned it, after all. It wasn't worth trading Tanner for, but it was hers now.
Cordissa started out of her room, glancing both ways down the hall. Her dress was torn and her hair was matted and she hadn't slept in days. She hardly looked like royalty anymore. Any servant with half a brain would report her to her mother.
She took of down the corridors. She couldn't be bothered to carry her skirts, so instead Cordissa slashed the tattered hem off. The dress only reached her knees now, but it was so much easier to run in.
Predictably, her mother was in her room. The Queen stood, poised, carefully checking her reflection in a handheld mirror. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, smirking vainly. Her dress was burgundy, made from so many layers and fabrics that she could have made a dozen dresses from it. "Hello, darling." Cordissa's mother cooed, releasing her brown locks and instead adjusting her eyelids. "What a nice sword you have."
Cordissa grit her teeth. "Why did you send the Shadow Knight after Tanner?"
"Tanner? Was that his name?" The Queen smoothed the front section of her dress. "That one's easy. How am I supposed to set you up with a handsome rich man if you're in love with someone else?"
"Admit it," Cordissa snarls, leveling the black sword at her and stepping forward. "You wanted to make me miserable."
"Not really. I wanted to ship you off somewhere so I could stay queen." Her mother smirked, finally meeting her gaze with cold brown eyes. "The miserable part was just a bonus."
"Why didn't you just kill me, then? You obviously hated me." Cordissa takes another step towards her mother.
The Queen shrugged helplessly, still smiling. "I was trying to be a good mother."
Cordissa slashes the sword across the air between them. There's a metallic sort of zing as it slices the air. "You were a terrible mother!" Her fist clenches around the sword's cold hilt. "No wonder I ran away."
Her mother sets down the mirror with a loving smile. The only love her mother possesses is for her own reflection. She fixes her eyes on Cordissa again, grinning. "You ran away because you were looking for true love." Her benevolent expression falls into a flat stare. "Sweetie, it doesn't exist."
"Because you killed him!"
"So...what? You're going to kill me?"
Cordissa raised her sword slightly, because that was exactly what she was going to do.
"Oh, I see how it is." Her mother grinned psychotically, pulling a sword from the bottom of her dress. It had somehow been hidden in layers of skirts. Cordissa winced in disgust. "First move goes to you."
Cordissa knew next to nothing about swordplay. Tanner had once said he'd wanted to learn, and Cordissa had laughed. He was too nice to kill, too gentle.
She used to think she was the same way.
Cordissa raised her sword and slashed downward, like she'd seen the Shadow Knight do. Her mother swung her sword and blocked the blow, and the impact made Cordissa bite her tongue. She lowered her weapon as quickly as she could and drew it back. Her mother slashed at her, narrowly missing Cordissa's head and slashing off some of her matted brown hair. Cordissa struck back, going for a stab to the gut. Her mother knocked her sword away easily. Cordissa lunged at her mother's gut again, but she parried it easily. Funny word, parried. Tanner used to—
Her mother swung wildly, opening a long cut on Cordissa's arm. Her brown eyes were crazed. Cordissa cursed herself for getting distracted and tried to hit her mother in the ribs with the butt of her sword. The queen twirled and dodged the blow, smacking Cordissa's ribs with the flat of her blade as she came around.
She was pretty sure neither of them were very good at sword fighting, but her mother was clearly better. The older woman demonstrated the fact by opening another cut on Cordissa's side. Cordissa knew she couldn't hold out much longer.
Cordissa raised her sword exactly like she had done on her first move. She moved her right hand from the hilt to her mother's chest. Cordissa breathed in, watching time slow down around her as her fingers reached further and further until they grasped the beating heart. She pulled it free from the blood vessels, holding it in her palm as her mother stared at her, appalled.
"What is that!" The queen demanded.
Cordissa grinned slyly. "Your heart. It's mine now."
Cordissa crushed it between her fingers.
QU€€N
Cordissa's first decree was that the day of Tanner's death was set aside as a day of mourning.
Her second was that everyone from thattown had to cover their eyes in her presence. She was so sick of their stares, of their judgement. Her second decree became a sort of fashion statement, and even those in her court began covering their eyes with masks and faces with veils.
Her third was that outsiders were to be welcomed, not scorned.
Her fourth was that magic was banned. That included fortunetellers and people who travelled from other realms.
Cordissa started wearing a veil. She couldn't forget what Tanner had said about wanting her beauty all to himself. She wore red a lot, too. She could never get red out of her head. Red like the hearts she stole and the colour of Tanner's last breath. Red like his favourite flowers.
She grew too tired to talk to other people. Cordissa hired someone to listen to what she said and repeat it. She called him her scribe, but he was much more than that. He was one of the only people who ever heard her voice. He had also been a servant at Tanner's castle.
Cordissa stopped taking hearts just before she banned magic. It was sick. The dust from hearts she'd crushes never seemed to wash off. Cordissa started using beheading instead. It was a lot more practical, and a lot less exhausting on her part.
She built herself a maze to conceal her castle and protect her hearts. On the hard days, she liked to wander through it. No one could bother her there. She liked to think the labyrinth was like her tangled mind. If she could find her way, she wasn't crazy after all.
But no one would believe that.
QU€€N
She became infamous. She became the Queen of Hearts, because of her collection. All the hearts of people she controlled. She liked to think it was also because Cordissa meant 'heart', but she tried not to lie to herself.
It wasn't good for her.
