#carewyn signs her name 'carewyn r' which stands for 'regina' not unlike how the queen of england signs her name

[carewyncromwell]

“Evil's for me -- you can have good. It doesn't suit me to be Robin Hood!”

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HPHM Cardverse developed by @ariparri​​ ♠️

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It was common knowledge in the Kingdom of Hearts that their Queen, Carewyn, had originally been from the Country of Spades. What was less common knowledge was her rationale for leaving home...and the woman who helped spur that decision on in the first place.

Carewyn Cromwell first met the woman who would become known as the Tyrant of Spades while she was still merely the Ace under the previous King of Spades, Coby McQuaid. She sadly hadn’t gotten to know the King very well before his well-publicized assassination, but she had become close to the Jack of Spades, Duncan Ashe, through her brother Jacob. Jacob’s genius intellect had served Duncan and by extension Coby very well, helping spark new reforms and innovations in chemistry, architecture, machinery, and even food preservation, so Jacob was given permission by Duncan often enough to bring his precious little sister to work with him so that he could show her his progress, as well as just to spoil her rotten while she was in the capitol.

It was on one of these outings where Jacob first brought Carewyn up into the royal zeppelin that Carewyn first collided with Patricia Rakepick. The Ace of Spades had been engaged in conversation elsewhere when she caught part of a conversation between the Jack and his companions.

“...is all well and good,” said Carewyn, “but no matter how much we might advance in technology, it’ll be people who will have the power to use it -- many of whom won’t use it wisely.”

“But one man’s advancement will ultimately benefit us all, Wyn,” Jacob said earnestly. “Every new discovery opens up new doorways -- fresh knowledge, to be built on by future generations! With the improvements we’ve made to steam power, we may even be able to make this new power source self-sustainable -- making expensive refueling a thing of the past!”

"Yes...and that is a good thing, Jacob, it really is,” Carewyn said, “but not everyone sees your work as something to improve the lives of the common man. I wouldn’t even say most do. They see it as something they can apply to weapons of war.”

Rakepick’s gaze flickered over her shoulder in the direction of the conversation.

“War?” recurred Duncan, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Where did you hear that?”

“Military officers are very talkative when they think no one’s paying attention,” Carewyn said very coolly. “I suppose they think the ‘pretty little shopgirl’ behind the counter is too empty-headed to care about what they have to say.”

Rakepick turned away to obscure her smile hearing this. This girl is sharp.

“I’m afraid I must cut this short,” she said dryly to the person she’d been speaking to. “Excuse me.”

She turned and made her way over to the corner of the room where Carewyn, Jacob, and Duncan were still talking.

“The court of Spades isn’t really entertaining the idea of war, is it, Ashe?” Jacob asked Duncan. His brows were knit tightly over his eyes. “What possible reason could they have for it?”

“Not a good one,” Duncan said dryly.

“Greed and self-aggrandizement never is,” Carewyn remarked cynically. “That doesn’t mean people don’t still act on it -- especially when we all know that when rich men start wars, it’s the poor who die in them.”

The Jack of Spades was frowning deeply as he considered this.

“...The King has no interest in declaring war on anyone,” he said after a moment. “He’s always sought out peace. However many people in the military might be itching for a fight, they won’t get one, with him at the helm.”

“That’s not good enough!” said Carewyn, her expression deeply troubled. “The King is a noble man...but he can’t trust people like that to do the right thing, if push comes to shove. If the army can’t stand behind him united, then it will crumble from within.”

“I have to agree.”

Duncan, Jacob, and Carewyn all turned, startled, when Rakepick finally entered their circle. Her dark blue eyes surveyed Carewyn carefully as her lips curled up in a small smirk.

“Would this be the famous Carewyn I’ve heard you speak so glowingly of, Master Cromwell?” she asked.

Jacob’s eyes flitted from Rakepick to Carewyn and back.

“...Yes,” he said after a moment.

“Then you would still be in school, Miss Cromwell?” said Rakepick. “How old are you, if I may ask?”

“Fifteen, as of this September,” Carewyn said politely.

Rakepick raised her eyebrows. “Just fifteen? And already quoting the likes of Jean-Paul Sartre. Most impressive.”

Carewyn felt Jacob bring an arm around her, his hand enclosing over her shoulder. Duncan crossed his arms, cocking his eyebrows at Rakepick. 

“That’s high praise from the Ace of Spades,” the Jack remarked rather sardonically. “Especially considering that Carewyn was critiquing the army you oversee.”

Rakepick’s eyes flashed in Duncan’s direction. “What can I say, I like seeing young women who aren’t afraid to speak their minds. It rather reminds me of myself, in a way.”

Her eyes drifted back over to Carewyn as she smiled again.

“You and I agree that the army should be loyal to its ruler,” said the Ace. “Tell me -- how would you inspire such loyalty, in the men that you have seen among its ranks?”

Carewyn crossed her arms. Her eyes drifted off out the closest window.

“You can’t inspire loyalty in people who are only out for their own self-interest,” Carewyn answered lowly.

“And yet these are the soldiers we have,” said Rakepick. “Until our whole army is nothing but mechanical soldiers, we must instill some loyalty in them.”

“You can instill obedience, but not loyalty,” Carewyn corrected. “Loyalty is a feeling, more than an action. It’s sincere devotion to someone else -- love, dedication, admiration. It’s respecting the person, or thing, or cause you’re fighting for...honoring them and everything they stand for, even when it’s in direct opposition to what benefits you. Willingly sacrificing for their sake, simply because you want to do right by them.”

Her almond-shaped blue eyes grew a little smaller.

“Those are things a selfish person could never understand.”

Rakepick’s eyes ran critically over Carewyn’s face, even as her lips spread into a broader, yet still rather arrogant smile.

“And so such men could only be compelled to stay and fight out of fear for their own livelihood, not out of duty to someone else. Well reasoned.”

“Madam Ace!”

An attendant had abruptly rushed up to her, carrying a gilded envelope. Rakepick took it from him with an oddly miffed glare, before plastering on another cool smile as she addressed Carewyn again.

“Please excuse me, Miss Cromwell -- it seems my attention is needed elsewhere,” she said crisply.

“Of course, Madam,” Carewyn said with a clipped nod.

Rakepick extended a hand, which Carewyn reluctantly took so she could shake it.

“Thank you for your stimulating conversation,” said Rakepick with a dewy smile. “I sincerely hope that you shall return to the capitol soon, so that we might speak further.”

Carewyn avoided her gaze, instead keeping it on their interlocked hands.

“...Thank you.”

Even after Rakepick released her hand, Carewyn still felt a weird, cold, uncomfortable shudder in her hand -- one that made her want to wash her hand immediately after.

“Be mindful, Carewyn,” Duncan told her very solemnly.

Carewyn looked at him, startled. She’d never heard his voice sound quite so low before.

“Patricia Rakepick is not a person who’s easy to impress,” he said. “She was chosen as Ace for how much fear and respect she’s instilled in the army, so she’s not someone who plays nice with others. And yet it seems she’s taken a real shine to you. Most would say you should consider yourself very fortunate.”

Carewyn’s brows knit over her eyes.

“Would you say I am?” she asked softly.

Duncan’s eyes narrowed on Rakepick’s retreating back.

“...I don’t know,” he said at last.

He looked at Carewyn, his dark eyes oddly grim.

“I know how the Ace of Spades treats those she sees as beneath her. I don’t know anything about how she treats those few people she actually likes.”

~*~

Several years later, Rakepick took control of the Country of Spades, first as a quasi-regent and then as a “Queen” herself. It was this act that prompted many people to refer to her as “the Tyrant of Spades” -- and it was not long after she took full control that her new Jack of Spades, Verucca Buckthorn-Snyde, brought back a rather interesting message from the court of the Kingdom of Hearts.

“Their new Queen has requested an audience with you,” Verucca said coldly, holding out a letter with a red-rose-decked wax seal.

Rakepick scoffed.

“Has she now?” she said with an arrogant smirk.

She handed her glass of red wine to her attendant so she could take the letter from Verucca and rip open the envelope. 

“She told me to pass along her disappointment that you would hide behind your courtiers,” Verucca added, her eyes flashing with distaste. “The young lady also made a point to lament that you didn’t have the previous Jack of Spades advocating on your behalf.”

Rakepick’s smirk only seemed to broaden. “Comparing you to your predecessor and insinuating that I’m a coward? That takes real cheek.”

She opened the letter and began to read. Once she did, however, her arrogant smirk slowly faded.

To Her Excellency, the former Ace of Spades and current Queen, from Her Majesty, the Queen of Hearts;

Madam --

My counterpart, the King of Hearts, has recently received word that you will abstain from the Passion Ball set to be held at the Palace of Hearts this upcoming winter. Please know that your presence will be felt, if not missed.

I had hoped to speak more cordially in person, but since you’ve seen fit to send others in your stead, these words I have will have to be restrained to just this page. I don’t fully understand the motivations behind your sudden withdrawal from the world stage, nor what you hope to gain by so ruthlessly fortifying your borders -- but whatever they are, I assure you, you make no friends, treating your citizens like prisoners. The world outside sees your actions as cruelty, and although I can glean nothing of how your own people view you thanks to your efforts, I was once one of them, so I can only surmise that they’re similarly displeased. Like any wild beast that yearns to run free, they won’t take kindly to the jailer that has imprisoned them -- so truly, it’s in your best interest to loosen your grip, and set free those whom you’ve imprisoned. Jacob Cromwell would be a good man to start with.

My deepest condolences go out to Duncan Ashe’s family, as well as whatever friends he had that remain at your court. I grieve him as I would a brother, and it disheartens me that you would pick a replacement for him who has no sense of honor or compassion.

Signed,

Carewyn R

Rakepick read over the letter once more, her expression oddly unreadable. Then, when she’d finished, her lips curled up in a much colder smirk than before.

“Take this down,” she said curtly.

The attendant hurriedly scrambled to grab some parchment and a pen so that he could copy what Rakepick said aloud to him,

“‘To Her Majesty, the newly Crowned Queen of Hearts, from her Majesty, the Queen of Spades;

‘Miss Cromwell --

‘I must say, you have impressed me yet again. I always knew you belonged at the court of a royal -- I had merely thought that that court would be mine, rather than in the Kingdom of Hearts. But I suppose it’s as you once said yourself: I could never command any loyalty from you. It’s just a shame that you have seemingly divested yourself of any such loyalty to your home country, as well. But it seems that the world has finally seen the potential I saw in you from the start. A shame that I couldn’t capitalize on it when I had the chance.

‘I regret to say that your brother is no longer in my custody, however much I wish he still was. He disappeared from his cell not too long ago, and I’ve yet to hear any further news of him. If you hear anything of him, I hope that you’ll let me know...but otherwise, I’m afraid I can’t help you.

‘As to my motives, I’m confident in saying that they are the same as yours. I shall protect what’s mine -- just as I’m sure you likewise wish to protect the throne and people you’ve taken as your own. I would’ve extended that same protection to you, had you chosen to stay in Spades. You would’ve made an excellent Ace yourself, if one follows your qualifications for a courtier -- though I might’ve proposed guarding your heart more, in such a role. Such sensitivity is rife to be taken advantage of. And from one Queen to another, I would say it still is, in the role you have now.

‘Enjoy your little ball, Miss Cromwell. Take care not to let your heart run away with you -- your position as Queen ordains you choose your country’s needs over whatever trifles you might seek from me.

Regards,

Her Majesty, Patricia Rakepick, Queen of the Country of Spades.’”

Once the attendant had finished writing the letter and putting it in an envelope with a black wax seal of an upside-down spade, Rakepick gestured for Verucca to take it.

“Bring that back with you when you return to the Kingdom of Hearts,” she said coolly. “And when you give it to her Majesty, be sure to express my regret, that I had to miss her coronation.”

Verucca took the envelope and slipped it into her interior coat pocket, her eyebrows raised sardonically. “Do I detect sarcasm, Patricia?”

“I’m quite sincere,” said Rakepick, though her voice still sounded oddly passive-aggressive. “Miss Cromwell has always been rather disinterested in parties -- I’m sure not having her brother there to keep her company made it quite a bit less enjoyable...”

Her dark blue eyes flashed with a strange glint.

“If she’d only stayed here rather than fled...perhaps then she’d have both status and her family, as she so clearly wishes.”

“Status as a courtier, you mean?” Verucca said coldly. “Don’t think I didn’t catch that you thought to bestow your old position to a mere child.”

“Tone down your condescension, Jack of Spades,” Rakepick answered pitilessly. “That child has advanced to a position most maids her age can only dream of. Your niece included.”

Verucca’s thin lips knit together tightly, but otherwise her face remained very stony as she gave Rakepick a clipped bow and left the room.

Rakepick lounged back on the throne that had once belonged to Coby McQuaid, resting her chin on her hand as she glanced out the closest window.

Perhaps it was fitting that Carewyn ended up a queen in her own right. She’d never sought out any leader to follow or mentor to idolize, even as a mere maid of sixteen. That mature, independent, self-sufficient streak was part of what had reminded Rakepick so much of herself, from the very beginning.

Carewyn Cromwell, like Rakepick, was not meant to follow others. She was destined to be a queen.