The Jack of Hearts (House of Cards Book 1)

Chapter 26 | Two-Four Jacks

Rosalyne felt the vice grip of panic pierce her heart as Lucas and Dys were led away, Lucas protesting Dys' innocence, and the later, a weeping pile of skirts as two warriors drug her away.

Rosalyne shoved Clovis' mind, sending him after them to make sure they remained safe.

She stared at the doorway that her servants had disappeared through; alone in the hall surrounded by Cluvani warriors and protectors that thought Lucas — or she — had killed a man. M'alak.

A hand settled on her shoulder and she flinched.

Dolion spread his hands as if to placate her. "Sorry, bad habit," he sighed and hooked his thumbs in his belt.

Rosalyne glared at him, letting every ounce of fury wash over him and hissed, "He knows as well as I, that Dys and Lucas are innocent of these claims. If he truly believed them, it should be I who is locked away, not my servants."

Dolion frowned. "Is that a confession?"

Rosalyne swallowed the bile of curses on her tongue when a young woman ducked her arms under Dolion's shoulder, twin braids like her abba's arching over her shoulders, and settled underneath Dolion's arm.

The young woman had a pleasant sort of face that had not yet lost the roundness of youth, with wide-set eyes that narrowed up at Rosalyne.

The jaquelle felt her distrust and distaste like copper on her tongue. She curtsied. "Lady Zepona."

Zepona grimaced and looked to her abba. "Uma wants you."

Dolion turned to walk away but paused, looking over his shoulder. "You should know the trial wasn't your fault, jaqueling. I never miss."

Rosalyne ground her teeth, fighting the urge to stomp her foot by dropping her head back, but as she did so, caught her eye on the stray arrow still buried in one of the tapestries depicting the Ibheren in battle.

The warriors depicted were woven defeating an army of pale warriors with round blank eyes. She grimaced as she realised they were meant to be Aertisian warriors in various states of dismemberment and death.

Her eyes trailed over to Dolion's stray arrow that had struck the tapestry, stabbing the woven Aertisian general through the neck.

Rosalyne's heart stopped.

The room bled away as the sounds of screams and the impact of arrows piercing flesh overcame her mind. The first arrow in Tuman's throat as he shouted at Jhak O'rian.

Her feet stumbled away from the crush of people, Influence pushing their attention away. She found herself enveloped in the cool darkness of the tunnels, the heavy door shutting out the noise and the light.

She slid to the floor, tearing her gloves from her clammy hands and pressing them into her eyes. Her breath skittered and slipped, vision blurring, mind spinning out of her precious control.

She wanted to scream but couldn't find her voice.

She pounded the heels of her palms into her eyes, pain cutting through the panic each time. She squeezed her temples, tears pouring out her eyes, as her mouth opened in silent agony.

The darkness seemed to reach out and grab her, clawing her hands away from her head, until she realised it was cupping her face and calling her name.

«Rosalyne, Rosalyne...»

Skin and concern brushed against her cheeks, wiping the tears away. Warm thumbs smoothed the skin under her eyes until they fluttered open.

Meeting O'rian's dark eyes made fresh spasms wrack her body.