Villainess Of Hearts

The Chesire purred at the Queen of Hearts, their eyes were half lidded, "I myself have been looking for some milk." Inside the servant's kitchen where everything was in a heap of mess, the Queen of Hearts was in a state of distress. She looked at him startled and foggled, mouth ajar until the cat, the young man garbled, "Now, now, I don't get involved in politics so there's no need to look agog."

And those choice of words made her settle down enough to give him a glare. Why was someone like him so… that grin was familiar. It shouldn't have taken her too long but she recognized them at last, "Y-You're that cat in the Duke's territory." She'd heard stories and most importantly—she'd seen him before.

His words were hypocrisy.

Because as far as she was concerned, this cat did actually get involved with their affairs. Lady Catherine Duke took Alice in—and this cat was around and acted as a spy. If cat was even the right term to use. In this land, there were strange creatures, magic and events that cannot be explained. From a grinning mad cat, magic crystals to the Jabberwocky.

"Some call me Chesire, Your Majesty." The cat appeared in front of her with a relaxed smile on their face. His hands were placed behind his back as he leaned towards her and she caught sight of a twitching tail. "It would be nice if I am to be called as such."

She would not fall for such tricks!

Rosalyn Lockhart felt her nerves grate as she jabbed a finger at them, "Y-You…! Off with—!" She shook her head and placed a hand on her forehead. No, that couldn't work with someone like them. A mysterious being like no other. She gritted her teeth, hadn't she already made the decision to make friends? This one appeared to her right now without searching so she should take advantage of it now.

"Are you alright, Your Majesty?"

She lifted her gaze back at the figure in front of her and managed a smile, "Since you recognize me, then you must be aware that this is my castle and I do not take it kindly to have intruders inside it."

"Oh, my apologies—I did not notice as I was searching for milk." Chesire returned her smile with one of his own. And it was a lot more genuine than hers as he turned around the kitchen and pantry. "I came here with the Lady Duke as you say, then it means I am a guest?"

The Queen of Hearts felt her eye twitch. If there was anything about milk—those were used for her tarts! She'd be ill at ease to share it. And yet despite not being involved in politics, the cat seemed to know a lot about how things function within the castle. 

She huffed and walked past him, avoiding jars that were in disarray on the floor as she stepped towards one of the cabinets in the back. If one were to ask her in a previous time where to find ingredients, she wouldn't have a clue but she had observed Mary Ann head here. Soon enough she found the compartment for tea… as well as a jug of milk that were preserved by some rune etchings. Rosalyn Lockhart wished to slam the door but turned back once again towards the Chesire Cat.

The young man's cat ears twitched as he tilted his head at her. He gave her a doe-eyed look.

She squeezed her eyes shut for one moment and grimaced, "Do you prefer a glass or a bowl for the milk?" Even she did not believe that she would go through this length for someone and yet this situation tells a different story.

"Oh!" He reappeared in front of her and extended his arms to her, his tail was swishing back and forth. "I don't mind the jug at all~"

Rosalyn Lockhart eyed him with a peeved look, "A glass of milk for you then, Chesire." She used his name and noticed that it had made him quite pleased.

He wore that mystifying grin on his face.

.

.

.

Needless to say, this tiny incident in the kitchen had managed to distract her from the nightmare she had woken up from—although it brought her a separate case of problems. The Queen of Hearts sat in a wooden chair while she sipped her tea and glanced around her surroundings, shaking her head. "Ah, this is a mess." She clicked her tongue.

In the early morning, Mary Ann would be ill pressed to clean this up when she could be making her tarts from the moment they've arrived here. Instead of delagating the task on the poor girl. She'd order someone else instead.

The culprit was still very much here.

A few feet away from her, the Chesire Cat lapped the milk in the glass like an actual cat. Although his human form said otherwise to his eccentricities. Well, she wouldn't question it at all and instead gave them a stern look, "You'll be cleaning up this mess after that glass of milk now unless you want your head lopped off."

The young man reappeared behind the counter, only his head peeked out from it, "Your Majesty, if there is only a head and no body, is it possible to be beheaded?"

"As long as there's a head, I'm quite sure it can be beheaded." She took a dainty sip of her tea and grimaced slightly. Her palette wasn't used to the flavor of plain chamomile without even a dollop of honey or a sugar cube. Once again she eyed the Chesire Cat and wondered.

The Mad Hatter was still a Hatter at the end of the day and still very much human like her, but what about someone like them? Did she need to have her servants milk a thousand cows to appease them and gain his trust?

What should she do?

How she wished she had some roseberry tarts right now, that would haven't solved her dilemma but she would enjoy it much the same. She stared down at her teacup and saw her reflection in the liquid and inwardly sighed.

Though she had said that the Chesire Cat acted a spy before… that wasn't exactly true. As far as she was able to discover, it happened that he'd found himself exploring numerous areas without a care, this very castle a prime example, but still head back at the end of the day in the Duke's territory where a certain Alice enjoyed conversing with this—this cat person.

"Ah~ How does truly one run away from what's inside their head?"

Rosalyn Lockhart looked up from her cup and saw the young man eyeing her with an amused expression. Did he find his entertainment by being around her and speaking such phrases to confound her? 

Perhaps she had made a realization but her emotions took precedence. "What did you say?" She asked with a frown and placed down her teacup lest she followed on the urge to throw it at him.

How could there be such a creature with fluffy ears and tails but grate on her nerves still?

"Your Majesty, it's quite hard to run from something inside your head," The Chesire Cat repeated with a grin and motioned to her as if to prove his point.

The Queen of Hearts sighed, "I suppose that is right," She was indeed getting terribly caught up in her thoughts now more than ever—in the past she would do things as she willed them without hesitation. But now she had to slow down and ponder… and she wasn't exactly quite good at it. Royal affairs were a different matter of course but she had her lessons and instincts ingrained in those situations, whereas she'd never had read a book about how to deal with disappearing and reappearing cats in the castle.

"It must be quite hard to be you, Your Majesty." The Chesire Cat told her before he finished drinking his glass of milk. They had the nerve to look satisfied and at ease as he placed the glass on the countertop.

"Of course it is, you wouldn't understand my duties when you're simply like that." She eyed him, feeling slightly reproachful. "You are simply…" She tried to find the perfect word to describe this creature but begrudingly found nothing, "You are but yourself."

Why was she here again in the first place? 

The only answer of course laid with Time. That Time man she had met who reversed the clock for her and him telling her to have fun—her fingers twitched slightly on her teacup's handle. If she broke it this time, there was no opportunity for it to be repaired at all. Why did he think this was a good idea in the first place?

"You are wrong and right. I know who I am in this particular morning but sooner and later, I would have changed by then," The Chesire Cat told her once again with a bemused expression.

The Queen of Hearts placed a hand on her forehead, "I had assumed that Nicholas Hatter was a mad person to deal with but—"

"We're all mad, Your Majesty," He chuckled.

Rosalyn Lockhaet looked up to rebut his statement but paused at the sight in front of her. 

The Chesire's eyes glowed viridiscent as he grinned, "But all the best people are," And there he vanished from her sight.

She glanced down at her teacup, unsure if she had imagined it all by herself, "What exactly had I drunk?"