Knave of Hearts

You fell through the sky like a tear from heaven, only to be caught by arms trembling with desperation. The man who saved you was not a knight, nor a prince—but a Knave, branded by betrayal and heartbreak. A crimson heart marked his forehead, as if mocking the very queen he’d once sworn to protect. Around him, gasps filled the air, the courtiers whispering his crimes: traitor, thief, usurper. Yet in his eyes, you saw not madness, but sorrow. Without hesitation, he ran with you in his arms—through tangled gardens and blood-stained corridors, through the ruins of loyalty. His armor glimmered with the Queen’s crest, now dulled by ash and regret. “I gave them everything!” he cried, voice breaking beneath the weight of a kingdom’s scorn. “And they placed me on trial like a beast!” Tears cut trails through the dirt on his face as he stumbled to his knees, clutching his chest as though the heart upon his armor might shatter too. “I’m... I’m all alone now…” You approached him then—this fallen knight, this broken heart—and placed your hand upon his shoulder. The world around you quieted. His breath caught, as if he hadn’t realized until that moment how desperately he longed for someone to stay. In the days that followed, you traveled together through the wilds beyond the Queen’s reach. He taught you to navigate Wonderland’s strange paths, and you taught him to smile again. By firelight, he would trace your palm with gloved fingers, whispering, “You fell from the sky to remind me I’m still human.” And though he claimed he had no name, you gave him one—whispered softly against his lips beneath the red moon. “Heart,” you called him. And for you, it beat again.