DAY 40-1: SPOONS

Okay, so it's highly likely that Avel isn't a traitor. But, instead, dare Leda say: a lunatic.

A psychotically deranged being obsessed with none other than her.

The idea sends chills spiking like needles up her spine as the running water glides over her fingers, following an elegant curve into the sink below. She tunes out the clinks and clanks originating from the other maids gathered in the kitchen for breakfast.

"I hear the prince slaughtered another five servants this morning."

Conversations erupt left and right from the gathered maids alike. The most vivid deriving from the three from yesterday.

"Already?" demands another. "Didn't he kill three last night?"

"He hasn't let his madness show in months," notes the third. "Is he starting to feel sentimental with his engagement party tomorrow?"

"I don't even care. I'm so jealous, dammit!" whines the first. "Why won't His Highness slaughter me?"

"Ah," the second moans, "dying by his fingers would be a dream come true."

"If he needs an organ supply or somebody to rip to shreds he can take me!"

Leda's fingers rise from the water and clasps her mouth. She shuts her eyes, trying her hardest to swallow the bile that has risen in her throat.

She did this. Her. Because she went and asked a request from a Heart. One he'll tie her to until she dies by his own two hands.

Deep down, Leda doesn't want to admit what she saw yesterday. Yet, it vividly replays like some record in her brain. She was simply too frightened that no matter how much she wanted to muster her voice—plead for him to stop—she was too cowardly to try to fight him on his conviction.

He's using his servants as test subjects because Leda asked him to save Ro. And although every wretched clot of her blood boils in disgust at the realization she has no way of denying that he's doing this with her happiness in mind—the gratitude of his human-puppet wife.

But there has to be a better way around this. Nothing like using the lower class citizens as his guinea pigs.

Still... Leda grits her teeth, allowing her palm to fall from her lips. She peers over her shoulder, to the sparkly-eyes each Heart in the room possesses as they gush forth about the aspect of Avel's bloodlust. They're talking about the lives of their fellow coworkers like they're nothing. Ever since Leda came here, every Heart has appeared to care the least when it came to the essence of 'life.' As if even if Avel were to slaughter the entire Heart race they'd be completely fine with it.

Even last night, when she was forcefully escorted back to her room by Yana herself—and this morning when headmistress Farley personally 'scrubbed the mess' as if she were going to throw out mere trash...

They weren't turning blind-eyes. That far-off, hollow look each resident of Straeh has—it's not only the royal family. Rather, every Heart has gone utterly mad.

And it's taken Leda this long for things to finally click.

"Because Spades are greedy, they will loose what matters most to them. Because Hearts are passionate, their affection will drive them mad."

That one guard's words come back to haunt her.

Orian was right. She shouldn't have agreed to this. If only she can see him again. She needs to. They have to get out of here.

But... how? They're already flies trapped in the web these Hearts have so intricately spun. Although Leda hasn't found the slightest clue, they can't leave without Nixon. There's no way Ro can ever function in his current condition. The entire kingdom of Edaps are relying on them to return with an antidote as well. And there's no forgetting the entire deal she made with Rhett in the first place about about bringing back the four princes!

Throwing a huge fit and putting not only her, but Ro and the rest but the entire Edaps at the risk of even more danger is the stupidest move she can pull right now. Then what? What is she supposed to do?

"—el! Hey, Adel!"

Leda's pushed from behind, sending her collapsing over the sink. She reels away, a lot more jittery and wide-eyed than she should've been. The blurry figure soon clears until she's staring into the face of Hadey.

"My apologies." Her turquoise eyes have shrunk back as she flattens her lip. "I was only trying to tell you to get scrubbing. Madam Yana will be coming to check on us soon and we haven't even started."

Leda inhales and exhales heavily, trying to keep a leash on the frantic rhythm her heart has succumbed to. She can feel the boring eyes of a couple passersby as well as Hadey's trained gaze on the weapon she's subconsciously held to her throat. Nonetheless, Hadey doesn't flinch, nor produce any means of emotion.

The hilt of the spoon Leda's fingers have clasped around, loosen. Bringing her hand to her hair, she sets the utensil into the sink where it came from. "S-sorry..."

She bites her lower lip, shutting her eyes. Is she an idiot? A spoon, of all things? Didn't she just say she can't blow her cool?

"Hey."

Leda carefully peers at Hadey who stands at the adjacent sink, rubbing what seems to be a sponge at the lavish dishes that remain inside.

"I heard you were there," she goes on, quietly for her to hear. "In His Highness's room, I mean. It's rather disturbing for a newbie isn't it? I thought the same at first."

Inwardly, Leda's grateful that Hadey is as talkative as she is.

"Why..." Leda pauses and shakes her head. Adjusting her posture, she speaks again, this time in a much lower tone, "Aren't you all terrified? He's killing you like you're some guinea pigs."

"'Guinea pigs'?" She mutters it as if the term is unfamiliar. Then, disregards it altogether. "Why is there a need to be afraid of our rulers? If any of them deem it necessary to kill us, it's our duty to die." She hands Leda a plate to dry and her arms move to comply. "If," she goes on, long lashes brushing her cheek as she blinks, "our deaths can prove to help them in any way, whether it be to reduce their stress or as test subjects for the advancement of Straeh, we're glad to be sacrifices. It gives us a sense of worth. To us Hearts, killing is the greatest way to show your affection."

The plate nearly slips from Leda's fingers. She balls her fists as she sets it aside. 'Affection'? Is that what they call this messed up entitlement? Every single one of them is twisted through and through in this kingdom.

"You hybrids have always been so righteous. That's why you're powerless," Hadey muses, her hollow eyes meeting Leda's. "Of course we don't support bloodshed, but death is ultimately for the weak. And the weak should be grateful to die at the hands of a stronger mage."

She dries the spoon Hadey passes her then reaches for a cloth to wipe her hands. Hadey spares her a glance. Sensing her pressing confusion, Leda pins her lips up, feigning the best smile she can.

"C-can we stop talking about this? I'm starting to feel a little sick to my stomach."

Hadey continues to mindlessly scrub at the dishes. "You 'oughta toughen up."

Easier said than done.

"Adel, you're being summoned."

Leda traces the shout to Yana who pokes her head through the threshold of the kitchen. She carries with her an indignant air of dissatisfaction but with one look alone, Leda understands why.

She gnaws the inside of her cheek, already feeling lightheaded. "Again?" she whispers. But they saw each other last night.

"On the double," she continues. "Hadey, take over Adel's work."

"Yes, Madam Yana."

When Yana disappears to talk to the other servants, Hadey clicks her tongue. Leda swivels around only to find the said girl smirking.

"Well, aren't you lucky, Adel. His Highness is extremely fond of you."

Leda turns from her quickly, swallowing hard and speed-walking to the exit.

Nonetheless, the whispers prattle on.

"Gosh, she's so lucky!"

"She's new here and she already gets to die at Prince Avelious's hand?"

"If only he withheld that much affection for me!"

Her legs advance like they're made of lead. It's tough to stifle a proper breath.

They all like to run their mouths. About those who are weak and those who are strong. About power and sacrifices. About bloodlust and love.

What about this impregnable fear can be considered fortunate? It's like she has a serial killer after her. One she happened to put on her own trail. One she can't escape.

♥♦♣♠

"Not enough... There's not enough blood."

Sweat drenches Leda's skin. Her fingers curl into fists, nails digging into her palms tight enough to cut skin. Though her gaze is pinned on the door ahead, there's no denying the paralyzing fear that trickles through her veins like ice. The shadowy corridor she stands in only adds to the eerie fright that swallows her whole.

Her heartbeat speeds in her chest, in her ears.

The sound of piercing flesh resounds loudly in her mind. Then, something spills—a large enough splash against the marble to belong to a puddle.

Leda doesn't know how long she's been standing here for, but at least right now her legs are aching to sit. That voice... it is Avel's, right? It sounds so eerie. Nothing like the flirtatious idiot she initially encountered.

Leda's throat is drier than a desert, but she swallows anyway, burying her apprehension. Reaching for the handle, she carefully pushes it open.

"A-Avel?"

Her voice is tinier than she anticipates. The silence that follows is enough to still her body parts in place. Keeping her stance at the doorway, she peers past the dark pillars and bed towards the huge window propped at the far back of the room. Under the moonlight, the main floor is spotless—not a single trace of last night's events to resurface. The second floor is most likely in the same condition.

"Leda! Is that you?"

The shout makes her gasp. She stumbles backwards just as an entity drops from the second floor to the ground.

Leda whips her head upright as a dreamy sigh fills the air. Donned in a white lab coat like yesterday, Avel lands before her. The entire right half of his body, though, is dyed in a fresh hue of crimson. There's even some blood in his hair, dripping slowly and leaving a trail on the marble beneath him. His hands cusp the face mask he has one but even before he takes it off, Leda can see his white smile stretching as far as to split his cheeks.

Despite his gory appearance, there's a puppy-like gleam in his round eyes. But soon, it fades, settling to one of realization when he peeks at his attire.

"Oh, I'm sorry... I have blood on me again don't I?"

Leda tries to steady her breathing, but it's so damn difficult.

"I tried a surgery but they accidentally ended up dying on me again. It sucks... I thought I had it this time, too."

He pauses once more, oblivious to the petrified mess she is. A childish pout downturns his lips.

He's in Leda's vicinity before she can make sense of it.

"I know I saw you last night but I felt I was driving myself crazier and crazier while you were gone. The more time we spend apart, the longer I want to be with you. I'm frightened, Leda, that a time will come where I'll never see you again. Don't you feel the same?"

He tilts his head to the side, innocence reflected in his features. She uneasily inches back.

"Are you sure you can be summoning me so often?" The question spills so fast from her mouth it doesn't even register as her own. "The other maids—"

"Have they been bothering you?" His features morph to one of malice. "I won't allow it. Do you want me to dispose of them all for you?"

Leda falters another step. But he only advances. Her heart rate spikes.

"R-Ro," she stammers, holding out her arms to keep him away. "How's Ro?"

"He's still alive at the moment but not for long," he replies. "But it's fine. I just about have it. It will all be complete by tomorrow."

What will be complete? The edge in Avel's eye as he speaks is suffocating her. With insurmountable questions; doubts.

"Say... Avel," Leda tries again. Her back hits the wall. But Avel has already infiltrated her vicinity. "After you save Ro... what's going to happen?"

"What do you mean, my dear?" He stretches his palm until it hits the wall as well. Encasing her where she is; trapping her.

"Just that... you know..." It's becoming difficult to formulate words. She looks anywhere but his face. "They're throwing your engagement party tomorrow aren't they? With that fox princess. And—"

"Are you jealous?"

"No!" she denies a little too quickly. His eyelids flutter and she clamps her lips, suddenly antsier than earlier. "Just, when you save Ro—tomorrow—and supposing I end up turning you down on your proposal..."

Avel's features harden. "And why would you ever have a reason for turning me down?"

"It's hypothetical!" she cries, pressing herself further harder against the wall. She wants it to cave and let her through to the other side, but it won't budge. She's stuck. She can't flee.

Relieved laughter pools from his mouth, engulfing the air. "You act as if you have a choice in the matter, Leda."

Her blood runs cold. She cranes her neck right, returning her eyes to him. Her mouth remains agape, but even as he smirks, the tinge of insanity doesn't fade from his eye.

"Sure I gave you an option, but you've already wormed your way so deep inside my heart. If you have my heart obviously it makes sense for yours to belong to me too. Humans are a rarity in Annadia. And more than anything in the world, my dream has always been to find one in its purest form. So now that I have, I'm not letting you go—forever."

Although he's said wack things like this in the past, now Leda can truly hear the eerie undertow with his words. She shivers. They've always come off as flirtatious, but she's just never listened close enough to hear the malice. Escaping from him at the moment does not seem like a good idea. For her, or for the rest. Even if she tried, how is she supposed to? Can she even escape?

What's the best thing to do right now? Leda's entire being is screaming that if she lets this go on any longer she'll be in grave danger. Ro, Orian, and Nixon, too. But if she doesn't, they'll be chased out of this very palace and Ro, as well the rest of Edaps, will die.

Even still, it's only a matter of time before they're found out by the rest of the servants here. Leda's fortunate they haven't yet, but the moment they do, everything will have been for naught.

She needs to fix this all somehow.

"Avel, aren't you a doctor?" she says, mustering the courage to stare him in the eye. "Aren't you supposed to be saving people? Why—"

"If you're asking why I don't mind a couple sacrifices it's because it's inevitable."

Fortunately, Avel reclines, leaving Leda behind. He slips off his bloody gloves and coat, letting it levitate off and into the furthest trash bin. A cloth floats from his bed and once in his grasps, he wipes at his face.

He beckons she accompany him up his spiral staircase and although her legs plod in response, Avel's eyesight remains straight ahead.

"It could be ironic that death doesn't bother me despite proclaiming I'm a quack, but that's exactly why it doesn't bother me. Since I was born, everything has come easy to me. Magic, studies, people. When I received my quack certificate, I've saved more people than anyone else in Straeh. I've caused miracles to occur time and time again. And each time I saved someone, another would die. Over and over and over again. When it comes to incurable diseases you don't always develop a cure on the first try. That's why you test on animals. But that's too much work. And it takes too much time. That's why I decided to cut the trial time in half."

The vessel containing fairies is still filled, a dead man on a surgical gurney lies ahead, and as if he's talking about the weather, Avel continues.

"Even if they die, it shows the results straightaway. By testing on people you can create a faster antidote. And luckily for me, the entire Land of Straeh is fair game to use." He faces her via a gentle smile. "People die while people are born. People are saved while people are killed. It's an endless cycle. Right now, you're asking me to save a man near death. But for there to be a greater good there has to be an even greater loss. And that loss will be a stepping stone for your happiness."

He takes Leda's hands in his.

"I haven't changed my mind. I still want you to be my wife. I'm to marry Dia to help with the war that has staggered their land, but as nice as a Mond sounds, a human is way better. The affection of a Heart has no boundaries. And even if your hypothetical situation of you rejecting me comes to pass, I won't let you go so easily. If you don't want to be with me alive then a dead Leda will do. So? What's your answer?"

Her lips twist, but no sound surfaces.

Due to her answer not being instantaneous, Avel's eyebrows furrow. "Leda—"

She's tugged from behind. It takes her a while to come to terms that it's Orian, and with his ears flat on his head, he takes the space before her, gazing distastefully at the prince.

"Master Avel, you should be focusing on Master Ro."

His voice is uncharacteristically low, and serious. Nevertheless, Leda can't deny the relief that consumes her as a result.

"Orian...!"

Thank goodness!

"Ah, I almost forgot about you..." Avel reels away, and grins. "But you're right. I don't have time to waste. The faster I cure Ro the faster Leda will become mine."

He swerves around and heads deeper into the second floor.

"Orian, he's gone mad," Leda hisses as they edge toward the staircase.

Orian pauses, eyes transfixed on the large container. He clicks his tongue, his fingers sliding off the glass. Almost as bright as his red hair, a fire smoulders in his eyes. His facial features are all scrunched, teeth grounding against one another so tightly they can shatter.

Leda never thought she'd see the day where sweet, timid Orian would be angry, but even he has those emotions...

Not that she can't empathize. Going back to what they said, fairies are the cause of Annadia's blessings. Treating them like this—insects—obviously can churn any gut. But in Straeh, despite having received the most blessings from them, they don't think twice about using them as guinea pigs. It matters the least to them whether these holy creatures lived or died. They thought nothing of it.

"It's because I gave the suggestion," she murmurs.

Orian raises his head, setting his jaw. He disregards her gnawing guilt and spares another glance at Avel who's already begun working away at the dead body. Biting his lip, his hand snakes around Leda's wrist and he leads her down the staircase.

Avel doesn't seem to notice. Even if he has, he doesn't stop them.

When they slip out in the hall and shut the heavy bedroom doors behind them, the silence eats at Leda. She can't function; produce words.

"Are you all right, Master Leda?"

His question takes her off guard. Unlike earlier, Orian's countenance has softened to concern, melting her heart in gratitude.

"Me?" She waves. "Besides having some insane killer quack after me I'm fine."

Orian's frown is soaked in discomfort. "'Insanity,' 'derangement,' 'madness.' They've always been traits associated with Hearts. Everyone warns staying away from them is for the best. Now... I can understand why."

His head darts left and right, making sure the coast is clear. As he does, his fingers fiddle with the bandages wrapped around his wrist.

"Is your hand feeling better?" Leda asks.

"I'll be fine," he dismisses. Extending forth his healthy arm, he keeps her trapped against the wall, nudging his head towards a nearby camera. He's hiding their faces on purpose. "But I'm more worried about ourselves," he whispers on.

"Same here," Leda says. "We're trapped. And at this rate, we'll be killed."

Orian's countenance morphs to one of a frightened puppy. "I had a bad feeling about this from the beginning but you wouldn't listen to me, Master."

"I'm sorry for my stubbornness. I really thought we were in good hands." She crosses her arms. "So? You've been with the Dia princess this entire time, right?"

For some reason, he shudders. "As... soon as she saw me, she wouldn't let me leave her sight."

Leda brightens. "Hey, do you think there's a chance she can help us?"

Orian sweatdrops, dodging her eyes. "I... wouldn't account for that."

"Why not?" The idea swells like a balloon inside of her. "I mean, you're both Monds, right? And she definitely doesn't want me anywhere near Avel—her wedding partner. I'm sure if we explain the situation to her—"

"I SAID NO!"

Orian's shout lodges Leda's voice right in her throat. Wide-eyed, she gapes at him. But Orian's trembling becomes more prevalent. He retrieves his hand from the wall, grabbing his arms for support.

"If it were any other Mond... maybe. But not the Dia royalty. N-not..."

"Orian... are you okay?" Leda asks.

"I-I apologize..." He pinches the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes to rid him from some unwanted nightmare. Then he meets her eyes again, smouldering with newfound conviction. "From staying in that fox's presence so long I did learn of a couple things. But the most prevalent is the location of those two generals that attacked our ship."

Leda can't stifle a gasp. "Those—"

He shushes her with his finger. He slowly nods. "They might be our best bet if we wish to find Sir Nixon."