Book 3

Queen of Hearts

----------------------------------------

The Walking Contradiction

----------------------------------------

What are you doing here?

Eydis almost asked, but why bother? The answer was always the same: chaos. The world, this very moment, was unravelling in ways no one could have foreseen. Fitting, really, as she seemed to be unravelling right alongside it. Chaos wasn’t just around her, it stood before her. Chaos had a name.

And that name was Astra.

Eydis forced herself to stand, biting back the pain that threatened to buckle her legs. She pretended she was fine, that every fiber of her being wasn’t screaming for her to collapse, that all she wanted was to turn and run.

But the Queen of Shadows would never run.

“Who are you?” The question finally slipped out before she could stop it. Her voice wavered. Cracked. It would’ve been comical if it weren’t so…

Pathetic. Her fingers curled into a fist, but even that small movement sent fresh waves of pain radiating through her body.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Astra snapped, her diamond blades clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. Then, after a tense pause, she added, quieter. “Funny. I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

Astra took another step closer, and that was when it hit Eydis: the scent. She knew it. She knew it.

Sandalwood.

It pulled her focus even as her body screamed at her to stay alert. Of all the things her brain could latch onto right now, like survival or maybe charming her way out of this mess, it fixated on something utterly meaningless. Irrelevant.

Their eyes locked. Eydis froze.

Astra’s gaze wasn’t warm. Not the rare, reluctant softness Eydis had once pretending not to notice. No, this was something else entirely.

A glacier set ablaze.

Eydis recognised that look instantly. This wasn’t anger in the abstract; it was personal. Burning hatred. Betrayal. The kind of revenge she herself had unleashed just minutes ago.

So…

This was it, wasn’t it? This was how it ended for her.

She might have recoiled, might have flinched at the unexpected sting of that gaze, if her body had still obeyed her. Instead, her lips twitched as though to laugh, but the motion died halfway as pain flared through her abdomen. Her hand instinctively pressed against the sticky warmth spreading across her shirt, courtesy of the Sins she’d invited upon herself.

Healing magic? Not an option. She’d drained herself completely, her reserves scraped dry and then some. And even if, by some miracle, she’d had so much as a flicker of magic left? Healing had never been her strong suit. Minor cuts? Fine. A gaping hole through her body, laced with Greed’s acidic poison?

Absolutely not. That level of miraculous recovery was strictly within the realm of the Saintess: sparkles, sunshine, and divine intervention.

Ah yes, the Saintess of legends.

Eydis could almost hear the smug voices of her Celestial counterparts now. They’d be quick to remind her that their glowing hands and endless compassion weren’t doled out lightly. Something about “preserving the sacred equilibrium of—”

Her brain had translated everything after 'sacred' to 'blah.’

Why was she thinking about that now? Oh, right. Pain. Pain had a way of messing with your mind. Logical thought became as slippery as the blood she was quickly losing.

“Make…” Eydis coughed, tasting copper, “this quick.”

Astra’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your game?” she demanded. But then her gaze dropped to the wound, and something shifted. “You’re… bleeding out.”

“Stating… the obvious now?” Eydis rasped. “Just do it. It’s what you want, isn’t it?””

It was unreasonable for her to act this way. She should’ve been stalling, buying herself time, searching for an escape. But the fire in Astra’s eyes burned brighter than Eydis cared to admit. And…

It wasn’t an unreasonable request. She couldn’t fight. Couldn’t stand. Could barely keep her eyes open. If Astra didn’t finish the job, the night surely would.

How… meaningless.

Eydis had always thought she was at peace with death. Inevitable. Logical. A fact of existence as certain as life itself. But now, as her vision blurred and the charred grass beneath her seemed to shift and sway, the truth hit her hard.

She wanted to live.

Why? For what? She couldn’t quite remember. Something unfinished. Something important. Something… hers. Not that it mattered now.

Her legs gave way, and she crumpled. She braced for the cold, hard ground. Instead… warmth.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Soft.

And intoxicating. Sandalwood.

Eydis let out a weak, breathy chuckle as her vision dimmed. Her spiralling mind clung to one ridiculous thought:

She really needed to get Astra to spill the name of that perfume.

Then came a soft voice, brushing against her ear. It was close. Too close.

“You don’t know what I want, Eydis.”

The words carried an unexpected gentleness that shouldn’t have been comforting. Eydis pretended it wasn’t.

Not that it mattered.

Moments later, the world slipped away.

----------------------------------------

When her senses returned, they did so grudgingly.

Golden light poured in, absurdly bright, and far too cheery for her current state of mind. Eydis squinted, raising a shaky hand to shield her eyes. Her hand brushed against something smooth. Silky.

And silver.

“Angel of death,” she murmured, her throat dry as dust, “you’re deceptively beautiful these days.”

Her fingers drifted upward, threading through strands of silver hair, twirling them absently and half-expecting them to dissipate like smoke.

They didn’t.

The hair whispered softly against her fingertips before slipping free, brushing against warm, living skin.

Astra’s cheek.

Eydis froze as their eyes met. Astra sat perched on the edge of the bed, her palm lingering at Eydis’s forehead as if testing for a fever. The familiar scent of sandalwood seemed to saturate the room. Overwhelming.

Real. Alive.

Astra blinked, then recoiled abruptly.

Eydis stared, her muddled thoughts swirling. Was she really alive? Had Astra saved her? And if so…

Why?

A cough. A curse. Then Astra muttered, “If you’re trying to flatter me, you’re—”

“I was genuine,” Eydis interrupted, her honesty slipping free before she could stop it.

Astra’s crimson eyes widened.

“…ly surprised,” Eydis added hastily, recovering too late. She tilted her head, opting for a playful tease. “But well? Did it work?”

Astra’s glare could have frozen fire. Yet, Eydis noticed something curious: Astra hadn’t moved away. Instead, she leaned in, reaching for a glass of water on the nightstand and handing it over with a pointed look.

“You’re impossible,” she grumbled.

It felt like déjà vu. It was déjà vu. And confusing. Eydis didn’t have the energy to unpack it. Instead, she took the offered water, draining it in one graceless gulp.

“Impossibly alive. Definitely,” Eydis murmured, her eyes scanning the room. “Probably.”

This wasn’t their room, nor was it a dungeon—not that she could rule that out entirely. No, it was a small, cosy space, its walls lined with vibrant green plants. The air carried the scent of coffee and freshly baked bread.

It was… nice. Pleasant.

And utterly baffling.

Astra didn’t respond, of course. Instead, Eydis felt the barest brush of fingers against her temple. Gentle, hesitant, and entirely unintentional. It was so at odds with Astra’s earlier rage that Eydis was unsure if she’d imagined it.

“Alive,” Astra murmured, almost to herself. She took the empty glass from Eydis’s hand and moved to leave.

Eydis’s hand darted out, catching Astra’s wrist. “I didn’t know you cared, Astra.”

Astra stiffened but her expression remained neutral. “I just don’t want to spend another afternoon scrubbing your blood out of my bed sheets.”

Her bed.

Another afternoon?

That word sank in far too slowly for Eydis’s liking. She glanced down at herself, noticing the smooth silk of a blue robe draped over her shoulders. Luxurious. Impeccable taste. Royal blue. Familiar.

Astra’s bed, Astra’s room, Astra’s clothes.

Of course. Because why wouldn’t she wake up dressed in her roommate's clothing. Again.

“Well,” Eydis said as her fingers tightened ever so slightly on Astra’s wrist, “if nothing else, you’ve saved the world from the tragic sight of me bleeding out in unflattering attire.”

The words sounded sharper than intended, a reflex more than a choice. Sarcasm: her armor, her magic, her… shield.

But then she felt it… Astra’s pulse beneath her fingertips. Steady until it wasn’t. Eydis watched as Astra’s crimson gaze flicked, almost unconsciously, downward.

For the love of all things unholy…

Heat crept up Eydis’s cheeks despite her best effort. Absolutely unacceptable. Completely uncharacteristic. The Queen of Shadows didn’t blush. Not over proximity, not over silk robes, and certainly not over—

She cut the thought short.

Before Astra could speak, Eydis’s own treacherous mouth betrayed her. “And I suppose you also bathed me?”

Drat. Stellar deflection. Eydis fought the urge to sink into the mattress and curse herself in every language she knew, fighting the urge to groan aloud.

Actually, she did groan aloud.

Astra flinched, abruptly pulling her wrist free. For a long moment, her crimson gaze locked onto Eydis’s.

“Would that make you feel better or worse?” Astra asked at last. Then, with a shake of her head, she dismissed her own question. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter. You’re used to this anyway.”

Used to this?

Eydis frowned. Used to what, exactly? Dying? Or almost dying? Or maybe being threatened by her roommate while half-dead, only for said roommate to save her life and then, apparently, bathe—

Her thoughts skidded to a halt, and she forced them to stop before she could chase the mortifying mental spiral further.

Astra rose abruptly and moved to the window, her back turned. “There’s a croissant on the nightstand.”

Eydis stared after her before turning her attention to the plate. She wasn’t particularly fond of buttery pastries, but the croissant was there, and she needed something to ground herself. She tore into the flaky bread without thinking. The taste, however, was oddly comforting.

Astra sat on the daybed by the window, her gaze distant. When the silence grew too heavy, Eydis finally spoke. “You have questions.”

Astra remained motionless at first, then took a slow sip of her coffee. She finally turned her head slightly, enough for Eydis to catch her profile.

“I do,” she said softly.

Without another word, she placed her mug on the windowsill and grabbed a book from the shelf beside her, flipping it open as though the conversation was over. The meaning was clear: Not now. Not yet.

Eydis sighed, sinking back into the pillow. Her body felt heavier than it had any right to, the exhaustion pulling at her once again. She had her own questions—too many, in fact.

Why had Astra saved her? Had their roles been reversed, Eydis wouldn’t have done this, whatever this was. She’d have dumped Astra into Ares Van Nassau’s lap and leave.

Her familiars stirred in the back of her mind: slithering, buzzing, barking, restless with suspicion. They urged her to leave, to mistrust Astra, to see her for what she was: a potential enemy.

A definite danger.

Eydis shut them out entirely. It wasn’t their place. But logic dictated she should listen. She wasn’t safe here. With Astra. Was she?

Unlikely. And yet…

“You should rest,” Astra said eventually. She pulled the curtain shut, though she lingered by the window.

“Are you going to watch me sleep?” Eydis teased.

Astra glared at her.

“Fine,” Eydis murmured. “At least try to look less broody. It’s unsettling.”

Astra let out an exaggerated sigh, she lifted the book higher, hiding her face.

The gesture wasn’t endearing. Not at all.

Eydis’s lips twitched despite herself. Her fingers absently drifted to the bandage beneath her robe, tracing its edge. Dry. Healed. No agonising ache coursing through her veins. Her body, though sore, felt warm, blanketed in a sensation she barely recognised.

Anchored.

She wasn’t used to comfort after chaos, not without consequence. But this was familiar. Just like after her battle with Gluttony.

That moment of peace.

For once, Eydis let herself admit it: her decisions weren’t always rational.

For once, she wondered if trusting her instincts wasn’t the worst mistake she could make.

And that instinct told her it was okay. Okay to close her eyes, to lean into the pull of rest. To trust Astra.

But it didn’t matter. Trust was dangerous. Eydis knew better than to put faith in anyone, least of all herself. She should push it away, rebuild her walls. But her body was too heavy, her mind too tired, and the idea stayed.

Insistent.

Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was foolishness.

She wished it didn’t matter. It couldn’t.

But it did.

It mattered more than anything.