Violet
When I was a child, I believed the entire world fit within the palace gardens of Rubraflor.
The flowers never wilted.
The fountains sang day and night.
The servants smiled even when their eyes said otherwise.
And the sky... the sky over Cardan always looked hand-painted.
I was a daughter of spring, of the House of Hearts, where hearts are heraldry and love is law.
They taught me that feelings made us strong. That beauty was a gift. That tears were also a form of power.
But Cartara — our world — was much larger than the golden halls of the court.
Here, we live governed by the Ancient Cards.
Each year has 52 weeks, like a complete deck of cards, and each one carries the spirit of a different card.
The seasons are ruled by the four great realms:
Hearts, Spring — the season of love, renewal, and emotion.
Swords, Winter — a time of ice, war, and vigilance.
Clubs, Summer — of strength, fire, and growth.
Diamonds, Autumn — a season of mystery, harvest, and reflection.
Everything, absolutely everything, revolves around the cards.
Even fate.
Cartara is divided into four great kingdoms:
Hearts, my home — Cardan, the Land of Sentiment. A place of glass domes, aromatic rivers, and floating gardens. Our symbol is water, fluid like the heart. Here, we value love, art, and bonds of the soul.
My father, King Alderian, rules with charisma… and clenched fists when challenged.
To the north lies Espadaris, the Kingdom of Swords. Its towers rise like spears aimed at the sky, and its soldiers walk as if part of the earth itself. The capital, Windcut, is built of stone and silence.
Ruled by King Thalen, Espadaris believes in order above all. Where we weep, they endure. Where we love, they obey.
Diamonds — or Aurum, the Kingdom of Veils — is the farthest and most mysterious. Its lands lie under mist and golden sands, and they say the future can be seen in mirrors there. Governed by a Council of Three Masks, Aurum sends magical crows instead of ambassadors and speaks in riddles.
And finally, the empire to the south: Ignaros, the Kingdom of Clubs. Fueled by the strength of summer, its cities buzz with trade, war, and invention. Queen Kerya holds her power as a strategist of both words and armies.
For centuries, Hearts and Swords clashed. Forbidden loves, duels of honor, assassinations, and intrigue fueled wars as cyclical as the seasons.
But thirteen years ago, everything changed...
It was during the last Royal Cycle, the end of a 13-year period that reshapes power and alliances. Prophecies are renewed. It is a time when history bends to be rewritten.
It was in that last Cycle that I lost my mother.
She wasn't made only of flowers and smiles — despite how the official story likes to remember her.
She was clever, watchful... and haunted.
There was something in her eyes during those final months.
Something I didn't understand at the time.
They say she died of fever.
But I remember the muffled screams behind the door.
The whispers between guards.
The blood under my father's fingernails the next day.
Her death was the spark.
Thirteen years ago, my father — King Alderian — broke the Treaty and declared war on Espadaris, citing betrayal and ancient insults.
King Thalen responded with steel and fire.
The world bled.
And when the two kings finally sat face to face, surrounded by corpses and ashes, they signed what they called the Glass Treaty:
"Peace shall reign. But no bond, public or private, shall exist between the children of Hearts and Swords."
Forbidden love. Sealed trade. Borders closed with walls and fear.
I grew up under that shadow.
With a father who smiled only in portraits.
With servants who looked away at the mention of her name.
With a world that taught me that to feel was beautiful — as long as it wasn't for the enemy.
Love became a crime.
A glance could be treason.
I grew up under that treaty.
With soldiers at the windows. With maps instead of songs.
With the portrait of a mother I never knew if she died… or was killed.
Now, another Royal Cycle approaches.
And something in the air… has changed.
Maybe it's the scent of spring flowers blooming once again.
Or maybe, the sound of a sword being forged in the shadows of my heart.
As if the next card to be played...
were mine.