Lady Death

Mun: ...that was sick.

Mad: What can I say? I am a man before I am a gentleman.

Mun: You're a sick fucker.

Mad: And what of your rosebush? Does yours need tending?

Mun:...

Mun:... 

Mad: 'This is horrid brown liquid. I will not drink this.'

Mun: 'I didn't ask you to fucking drink it!'

Mad: For a lady, you have vulgar language.

Mad: '... and terrible taste in tea.'

Mun: 'Tea takes away your troubles - besides, builder's tea is just how I like it. My Daddy makes me that tea all the time.'

Mad:' I do not know your father but I pity him for his unlady-like daughter and appalling taste in tea.'

Send me 'Play the chances' in my ask box to see what you get.

1st Person: Owns me for one day.

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(from l-r; Lady Gabrielle Spades nee Diamond, 46, was once lady-in-waiting to the Queen of Hearts before marriage. Sir Anton Spades, 42, previous Captain of the Playing Cards before early retirement. Both Spades take an active role in the politics of the Red Court)

The Colour Of My Blood | Prompt.

Lady Spade’s crimson painted lips turned down in displeasure, her steely grey gaze eyeing her husband critically from across the large expanse of the dinner table that dominated the room. No words were uttered, but more than enough was said. Anton’s fingers drummed against the wood as his free hand fished out his golden pocket watch, eyeing the time before his gaze retuned to his wife’s. “He’s late,” He offered unhelpfully, the narrowing of Lady Spade’s eyes only giving an inking into the depth of her ire. 

The soft  yet persistent ticks of the archaic grandfather clock at stood proudly by the wall filled the stretching silence between them. After years of marriage, it seemed that both Sir and Lady Spade had run out of things to talk about. Few topics remained between them - politics, Court and their son. And at home, away from their respective duties  only one thing remained. A certain someone who was late.

After a long pause, Anton cleared his throat. “I do believe that he is with Her Majest-,” But his wife’s cool, cutting voice sounded out, overriding his. “I am more than aware of whom our son is with.” Her long red painted nails gleamed in the low lighting as she brought them together. “It seems, while I had hoped for a joining with our son and a princess, I got one with the Queen.” Little in Gabrielle voice gave away her own personal thoughts upon the matter, her emotions schooled from years of experienced. 

Anton inclined his head the slightest in acknowledgement. “It is not what we had expected.” His lips parted to say more, only for him to pause, brow arched as Sir Spades turned his head towards the door that lead out towards the hallway, just as his son appeared at the threshold. Giving his parents a hastily mustered bow in each of their directions, Thomas Spade took his seat between them, his breathing heavy as he picked up his knife and fork. 

Sir and Lady Spade proceeded to do the same, now that the whole family was in attendance, they could eat. Gabrielle’s grey gaze eyed her son, taking note the red stains upon his neck, the raw looking claw marks that were just visible from the collar of his shirt before they disappeared under the while cotton material. “You had an audience with the Queen,” She began conversationally as the servants began to dish out the night’s food. Lady Spade watched as her son grinned knowingly to himself before nodding towards his mother. “You could say that I was tending to her Majesty’s rose bush, mother.” 

There was a clatter as one of the maids dropped her tray, Thomas giving a chuckle low in his throat whilst his mother’s lips thinned. “Do not speak in such a way at the table,” She snapped before turning her gaze upon the maid. “Clean it up. Then dismiss yourself.” She caught her husband’s lips parting. “Something to say, dear?” Her tone cold. Anton closed his mouth before turning his gaze down to the food set in front of him. 

Thomas’ gaze flickered between his parents before shaking his head. His mother was cold, callous. Every bit the Red woman. She came from an old, upstanding family, the Diamonds, next of kin to the Hearts. She craved power in a way that had frightened Thomas at one point, but now, it was nothing. She wanted a son who would rule, one who would marry one of the Heart Princesses. It displeased her so that the Queen had chosen him for herself. 

His father, on the other hand, was a more of a modest, noble family. The Spades were in decline, less powerful than they had been which had prompted Anton to take the position as Captain of the playing cards the way his father did before him. It was only the late War of the Roses that had prompted Thomas’ father into early retirement  He had never been the same upon his return from the battlefield, had never spoke of what he had witnessed. Those first few weeks back, Thomas witnesses his mother at her most humane. Most caring and attentive. That is, until his became irritated with her husband’s incompetence and demanded that he right himself. 

Thomas smirked, though beneath, it pained him to do so. One hand that lay curled on his lap eased open slightly to reveal a deep gash that slit his palm. Crimson glistened beneath the jagged edges of torn skin, the moisture beading before it  spilled down his wrist. Closing it quickly to ease the flow, Thomas ate his dinner in silence, thinking of how he longed to escape the Red Court.