Capítulo 55: The Queen of Hearts

AS ALICE AND Hartley glided on the dance floor, they most certainly hadn't gone unnoticed. All four corners of the room had their own opinions on the couple that was waltzing, most of which were negative. Out of them all, the ladies that were known as the flowers of Gladiolum were the loudest, their gazes piercing and voices poisonous.

"The nerve of that girl!" Dahlia remarked under her breath, scowling in distaste. "Why does she get to dance with the prince first?"

"She isn't even a candidate for the future crown princess, is she?" Azalea asked, cocking her head to one side.

"No, Lady Azalea, she is absolutely not! How can a girl of her standing even be considered as the crown princess?" Dahlia immediately answered. "Can you imagine the uproar? The chaos? The scandal? What is His Highness thinking?"

"No wonder Lady Petunia was defeated by a girl as normal as she," Azalea murmured under her breath. "This… Alice certainly has a lot more connections than it appears." The ditzy girl paused, turning over to tug at Rose's sleeve. "Lady Rose, what are your thoughts?"

"Are you mad, Azalea?" Dropping her formalities, Dahlia hissed, her hands shooting over to pry Azalea's hands off of Rose's sleeve. She lowered her voice, harshly whispering, "You're asking Lady Rose for her opinions? Out of all of us, you know who is the one with the highest probability of becoming crown princess, don't you?"

Slowly, Azalea looked at Rose, then at Dahlia, then back at Rose again. Finally, something clicked in her head as her eyes widened and her lips formed an 'o' shape, gasping.

"My apologies, Lady Rose," Azalea quickly muttered, lowering her head. "I've been inconsiderate."

"It's no matter," Rose said, finally breaking her silence. She cast the queen a silent look, a gaze that was returned. The two women exchanged a whole conversation through just one expression. Ultimately, their eyes returned to the couple on the dance floor again, an agreement made using one look. "I am not a woman that cowers at the sign of trouble."

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"I am going to get into trouble for this, aren't I?" Alice questioned. All throughout, she kept her eyes on Hartley as instructed.

Gracefully, he spun her around, their bodies twirling across the dance floor elegantly. Following Hartley's lead, Alice didn't have any difficulty keeping up with the music. And as far as she knew, she hadn't stepped on Hartley's toes.

Yet.

"You look beautiful tonight, Alice," Hartley complimented, choosing to ignore her question.

"Thank you, Hartley, but that's not what I―"

"Why does it matter what other people say?" the prince swiftly cut into her sentence before she could finish. He looked away from her, almost glaring at the crowd.

"Maybe if I were at home where I was born I wouldn't care," Alice admitted, "But now, this place I am in is a whole different world. The societal rules are different and one mistake can mean life or death. I don't wish to gamble with that."

"Then gamble on me," Hartley murmured in reply.

"What?" Alice gaped, her throat suddenly dry.

She was met by Hartley's piercing gaze, brilliant sapphire gemstones that he had for eyes. He stared at her, a collision of sparks gathering in the air as he leaned in closer. It was a natural reaction for Alice to forget how to breathe all of a sudden.

"Gamble on me," he repeated. Gently, Hartley pulled her closer, their bodies nearly plastered together. "I'll make sure that no harm will ever befall you."

"I―"

"That's enough." All of a sudden, an additional voice cut in. Alice recognized it as Spade's, his words quickly shattering the atmosphere as he yanked Alice off of Hartley. Placing a hand on her waist to stabilize her, he tightened his grip to make sure Hartley wouldn't try anything funny.

"That's not very polite, Brother," Hartley commented.

"Neither were you just now, Brother," Spade quipped back with a smirk. "It's time you ask Lady Rose for a dance, isn't it? Or face the queen and beg for her forgiveness?"

Surreptitiously, all three of them glanced at the queen. The woman sat on the throne, her head of red hair blazingly bright like hellfire's flame. She was a force to be reckoned with, always had been. Out of all three of them, none of them had good relations with her. That woman was very hard to please.

"Best to admit your wrongdoings before they catch up with you, Brother," Spade advised. Without giving Hartley any time to react, he quickly pulled Alice away.

The crowd of people had already started to trickle onto the dance floor. In no time, Spade and Alice had disappeared past the waltzing couples, nowhere to be found. Hartley, however, didn't have the luxury of time to look for them even if he wanted to. He could feel his mother's stare searing onto the back of his neck and he knew that it was time to pay his fines.

Silently, he briskly walked back to his mother's side, a sight reminiscent of a faithful and obedient dog returning to its owner. Some might comment that it was pathetic seeing the crown prince act this way. However, not many had interacted with the queen and lived to tell the tale.

"Mother," Hartley dutifully called when he neared the queen.

Still watching the dance floor in silence, the queen didn't reply. Her silence was louder than whatever words could be thrown at Hartley. If there was one thing he was sure of as his son, it was that his mother desired perfect control. She hated it whenever things differed from the way she planned them to be.

"Mother, I―"

"Look at them," the queen finally spoke, halting Hartley in the middle of his sentence. He immediately snapped his mouth shut, following his mother's line of sight. "Aren't they lovely together?"

At the other end of the line were Spade and Alice. From the elevated point of view, Hartley could see his younger brother with Alice, dancing and twirling. Unlike when she had danced with Hartley, Alice's face was stress-free now, filled with smiles as she chuckled at whatever Spade had just told her.

Hartley couldn't tell why but his heart clenched painfully. The bitter feeling that bubbled in the pits of his stomach reminded him dreadfully of jealousy, envy that he didn't know he was even capable of. At his sides, his fists clenched and unclenched, repeating the action over and over again until his knuckles turned white.

"Remember your place, Hartley," the queen continued, "As the crown prince of Gladiolum, you cannot marry someone that is too far beneath your status. A commoner can never become queen."

The memory of a different woman flashed into Hartley's mind. That woman wasn't someone Hartley recalled from his own memories. Rather, her face was etched into his mind because he had seen portraits of her around the palace before. They were scarce in number, mostly covered by a layer of cloth or had been sliced through with a weapon.

Countless nights of his childhood had Hartley spent watching through a crack in the door, witnessing the regal mother he knew bawling her eyes out like a deranged woman as she cried to the woman in the painting. Behind closed doors, the queen would always spit vile words at the unmoving image. However, whenever dawn broke and the doors opened again, the queen would return to normal, proper as ever, as if nothing ever happened.

That woman, if Hartley recalled, was a woman from common origins.

"The one that is most suited for you is right there," right by his ear, the queen muttered. Her voice was like a witch's, trying to enchant him to follow her every order.

As though there was an invisible force pulling his head down, Hartley turned to look at the woman that stood at the bottom of the stairs. Just in front of her was Rose Whitaker, garbed in her usual signature red. Her ebony hair cascaded down her back as she watched silently, observing the exchange between the mother and her son.

She needn't say anything but Hartley could already sense her thoughts in his mind. The nefarious woman wore a soft smile but it was one that hid thorns behind it.

For now, for this battle, Hartley and Rose both knew that she had won.