The Jack of Hearts (House of Cards Book 1)

Chapter 24 | Kill Game (part i)

**This chapter got heckin' long so I cut it in half**

Of all the things to be late for — and Rosalyne was late for her own wedding.

Not that she didn't have a plethora of excuses. In addition to her ruined dress and locating a suitable replacement, she had to install a black lace collar to hide the marks on her neck that her future husband had made earlier that day. Her hair proved difficult for Lady Dys to style in its usual fashion, but managed to wrestle it into submission in under and hour.

Yet, the jaquelle was still quaffed and perfect before the sun had touched the horizon.

The dress was a stiff court gown with arched shoulders and draping sleeves, pinned at the elbows with golden brooches. The ribbed bodice and pleated layered skirt made movement difficult, but Rosalyne had worn it for the king's last birthday, and surely she had nothing finer.

The rich, red velvet of her skirts rippled with black as she walked along the covered walkway that lead down to the great hall.

The jaquelle pulled her cloak more tightly around her shoulders as they rounded the parapets to where it ran parallel to the outer wall and lower city beyond.

The streets below churned with people, clamouring up to the entrance of fort.

Some of the clans-people, it seemed were attempting to keep them from scaling the gates themselves.

Lady Dys leaned over the stone edge and lifted her arm to greet those gathered below, but Rosalyne flicked a warning through their Bridge and gave her pause. Dys withdrew but it was too late.

The people spotted Rosalyne atop the wall. Voices cracked, sharpening the focus of their ire to a single point.

The jaquelle breathed it all in, letting it flow through her like the breeze rippling along the hem of her cloak. She turned down narrow stairs rather than continuing along their path. Her servants made to follow but she flicked them with her Influence to hold them back and dispel any rebellion.

At the base of the stairs, she turned through an open doorway that led to the courtyard before the outer gate. On the opposite side of the portcullis, the jaquelle spotted M'alak, Jhak O'rian and several of his cousins, Adofo, Protector Dolion, and other Cluvani warriors contending with the crowd.

The jhak argued with several of the gathered protestors at once, bouncing between them without a falter in his tone or authority. One of the men broke off mid-sentence when he spotted the jaquelle walking alone across the courtyard.

Jhak O'rian's shoulders slumped even before he turned around. «Go back inside. You will be late.»

Rosalyne shrugged at him. «As will he.»

She continued without breaking her pace, looking over the faces of the frothing crowd. She filtered and untangled strands of anger until she could grasp one. She locked eyes with an older woman who had both arms wrapped around the shoulders of two small children clutching at her shawl.

Rosalyne unraveled the woman's anger unto she found the trembling heart at its centre.

She was afraid. More for the children in her arms than her own fate, and Rosalyne cursed the world that brought both of them to this moment: mutually terrified and doing only what they believed was best for those that depended upon them.

Rosalyne lowered the wall around her own mind, allowing the woman to feel all that she felt. All that she was.

The woman gasped and back away, disappearing with her children into the throng.