Page 39 of Heartless

They passed through an archway, around a cutting garden, beneath a trellis, while the King talked of everything and nothing. Catherine yawned. She wished she was still playing yard games with Margaret. She wished she was drinking tea and gossiping with her mother and her friends. She wished she would have thought to eat something when she first arrived – her stomach was going to begin gurgling any minute.

As they meandered into another courtyard, her eyes caught on Jest’s dark motley again. As promised, he hadn’t gone far, and he now crouched in the next garden before the Two of Spades, a young gardener who was watching the Joker with awe.

Jest was showing him a card trick.

Catherine’s feet pulled her off the path without her noticing. She drifted towards the pair, watching as Jest took a pack of cards into his hands and fanned them up one arm, then flipped them with a gesture too quick to follow. The cards dominoed down to his elbow. He made them dance and skip, form a living chain between his fingers, spread out into the shapes of stars and hearts, before collapsing back into a deck of cards once again. Then he shot them all up into the air in a stream high as a water fountain and allowed them to rain down over their heads like red and black confetti.

The young gardener froze mid-laugh at the sound of a startling caw. The Raven swooped down from a nearby rose tree and caught a single card in his beak before landing on Jest’s forearm. The bird cocked his head to one side, revealing the card he had caught.

It was the two of spades.

Jest gave it to the young card, who looked like he’d never been given anything half so special in his life.

‘Do you like him?’

Cath jumped. She’d forgotten all about the King.

Heat flooded her cheeks. ‘N-no . . . I don’t—’

‘I think he’s perfect.’

She pressed her lips shut.

‘I think he could be the best court joker this kingdom has ever seen, and that’s including Canter Berry, the Comely Comedian.’

Catherine had no idea who that was, but was glad to be able to let out a breath. Of course the King was asking her if she liked the Joker. His tricks and his jokes, his illusions and games.

Not the man.

And she didn’t.

Like the man.

She barely knew him, after all.

She gulped.

‘He’s very . . . fun to watch,’ she confessed.

‘Did you see his performance at the ball?’

She knotted her fingers together. ‘Yes, Your Majesty. It was spectacular.’

‘It was, wasn’t it?’ The King bounced. ‘Come, I shouldn’t have sent him away so hastily. We’ll have a bit of entertainment!’

‘Wha – no!’

But the King was already pushing through the shrubbery. ‘Jest, oh, Jest!’ he singsonged.

Jest started. The Raven was allowing the young card to pet his wings, but as soon as they saw the King, the card threw himself on to his face out of respect and the bird took flight into the trees. The King did not seem to notice either of them.

Catherine lagged behind, tempted to hide behind the bushes.

‘Another good day,’ said Jest, his kohl-lined eyes landing on Catherine, full of questions.

She straightened her spine, inch by inch, aware that she’d been slumping.

‘We were just speaking of your performance the other night,’ said the King, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. ‘Lady Pinkerton is quite an admirer!’

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