Page 31 of Off with Her Head
"No." The force in her voice surprises me. "The mirror didn't specify either of us. The future isn't determined."
"Scarlett—"
"We find another way," she snaps, her grip on my hand tightening. "There'salwaysanother path. I refuse to accept that either of us will be lost."
I want to believe her. With every fiber of my being, I want to trust that we can defy the mirror's vision, that we can achieve unification without sacrifice. But my years of being a queen have taught me that power always demands payment.
The carriage crosses into Underland fully now, the darkness giving way to vibrant sunshine. The transition is jarring after the subdued atmosphere of Darkmore, yet I find it less disorienting than before. My eyes adjust quickly, my senses attuning to the wild magic that permeates Scarlett's kingdom. It feels less foreign than it once did.
Through the window, I notice the roses lining the road to the Castle of Cards are no longer purely red. As Scarlett mentioned, many have developed black veins and deep burgundy centers, while entirely black blooms appear intermittently among them. But what she didn't mention—perhaps because she couldn't see it from a distance—is that all of them pulse with magic that combinesbothof our signatures.
"Look," I say, directing her attention to the roses.
She leans closer to my side of the carriage, her eyes widening as she observes them. "They're connected," she whispers. "I can see them drawing power from both of our magics simultaneously."
"A network," I realize. "Just as the crystals create a network for Mara's corruption, these roses are forming a network forour unified magic. They're creating pathways between our kingdoms."
The idea is staggering. If the natural flora of our realms is spontaneously developing channels for our combined power, then this is much grander than we realized.
As we approach the Castle of Cards, I notice the structure itself seems slightly altered—still predominantly red and black, still defying conventional architecture with its impossible angles and living card components, but with subtle modifications. Shadows cling to certain corners with greater persistence, while blood sigils—faint but unmistakable—have appeared spontaneously on some of the marble surfaces.
Scarlett sees it too, her expression a mixture of awe and concern. "My kingdom is adopting elements of yours," she says. "And I'd wager Darkmore is incorporating aspects of Underland as well. We just hadn’t noticed."
The carriage stops before the castle gates where card-soldiers stand at attention. They bow deeply as we exit, their paper forms rustling in the breeze. I notice that several of them now bear small red sigils on their armor—miniature versions of the blood magic symbols that protect Darkmore.
"Your Majesties," they address us in unison, the plural form feeling natural.
Scarlett acknowledges them with a nod, but her attention is focused on the castle itself. I follow her gaze, understanding her concern. If Underland is changing so visibly, what other transformations might be occurring beneath the surface?
The March Hare approaches as we enter the castle, his trembling more pronounced than usual. "Your Majesties," he stutters, ears twitching nervously. "Thank goodness you've returned. Strange things are happening throughout the kingdom."
"What kind of strange things?" Scarlett asks, though I suspect we already know the answer.
"The Duchess reports shadows that move of their own accord in the eastern province," the Hare replies, counting on his fingers. "The Caterpillar says the mushrooms in his garden have developed blood-red caps with black gills. And the flowers—oh, the flowers are speaking in different voices! Deeper, more solemn. They're telling riddles instead of gossip."
I can't help but smile slightly at the earnest way he reports these changes—as if speaking flowers are perfectly normal, but a change in their conversational preferences is cause for alarm. Underland's particular brand of madness has always been fascinating to me.
"And the people?" Scarlett presses. "How are they responding to these changes?"
The Hare's whiskers twitch. "That's the strangest part, My Queen. No one seems particularly bothered. The card-soldiers report feeling 'more grounded.' The chess pieces claim they can now move in ways they couldn't before. Even the Mad Hatter says his tea tastes better when poured clockwise instead of counterclockwise—a change he's quite pleased with."
Relief flows through Scarlett, and I feel it as clearly as if it were my own emotion. Her subjects aren't suffering from the transformation; they'readaptingto it, perhaps even benefiting from it.
"Summon my advisors," she tells the Hare. "We need to prepare for a potential attack. Queen Mara will likely target Underland next, and we must be ready."
The Hare bows and scurries off, his pocket watch bouncing against his waistcoat as he goes.
"My chambers first," Scarlett decides, leading me through the familiar red and black corridors of her castle. "We should refresh ourselves before meeting the advisors."
I follow willingly, though I suspect her suggestion has more to do with securing privacy for further conversation than requiring any need for refreshment.
Her chambers are just as I remember them—opulent, dramatic, designed to impress and intimidate. Yet now I notice a few subtle changes here as well. The roses in the golden vases are the same hybrid blooms we saw along the road. The crimson candles burn with a steadier flame than the flickering chaos I recall from my previous visit. And most significantly, a small mirror has appeared on her vanity—not an ornate prophetic glass like mine, but a simple reflective surface that nevertheless radiates faint magical energy.
Scarlett moves to the window to look out over her kingdom. "If our subjects and kingdoms are adjusting so readily to this transformation, perhaps unification truly is the natural state of things."
I join her at the window, taking in the view of Underland below us. From this height, the patterns of change become more visible—patches of midnight sky appearing amid the bright chaos, black roses growing alongside red, creatures from both our kingdoms mingling in the gardens.
"Beautiful," I murmur, not referring only to the landscape, but to the breathtaking woman standing beside me.
