Fairytale Drabbles; 046. The Man Who Competes Against the Devil.

[falsepretences]

It’s hard to turn his back on it.

He is the best. He must be the best. He has spent years training and pretending and learning so that one day he can be King of a Suit he’s never really felt a member of. That, his mother used to tell him, that part didn’t matter, because they would make the Hearts into a Suit that he could feel a member of. But that was never really true.

It was easier in a way to turn his back on her. He’d been angry, then. He’d been able to rationalize it then; he wasn’t turning his back on her, he was fulfilling her wishes. And hadn’t she always taught him to be cold and ruthless in the face of obstacles to their goals? Laureline had become an obstacle, and he would never become King of Hearts if he followed along with her plans like the good soldier he’d always been. Of course, she would point out that he’s still not King. She’d rebuff any apology he offered and tell him he’d been stupid, a fool.

He is not the King of Hearts. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be. Maybe it’s his imagination, but he doesn’t see much change since they trapped their mother like an animal and threw her to the benevolent metaphorical wolves. He, at least, is still distrusted. His only real friend in the Hearts is their new Ace. He has Seb and Amy, but there’s a distance there, with both of them. A distance he’s put there, of course.

She would say that he doesn’t need friends, that they’re only weaknesses. He only has to challenge and defeat the King of Hearts and hold that rank, and then he’ll have what he’s always wanted.

But it’s strange. It’s odd, and it confuses him, but it seems the moment she was gone, there was no reason anymore. And maybe what it is, is that he doesn’t want to be King of Hearts.

He wants to win against her. He has now, maybe, but there's no satisfaction in it.

He only feels empty.