Page 55 of Off with Her Head
The Cheshire Cat materializes on a nearby lily pad, his grin appearing first, followed gradually by the rest of him. Unlike before, he doesn't fade in and out continuously. His form has stabilized along with everything else in our unified realm.
"Queens," he greets us, his tail swishing lazily. "Enjoying the peace you've created?"
"Immensely," Ravenna answers. "Though I suspect you didn't appear merely to confirm our contentment."
The Cat stretches, completely unconcerned by her perception. "Perhaps I simply enjoy witnessing what was always meant to be." His grin widens impossibly. "Or perhaps I bringnews that the third Blood Tree in Ironwood has begun producing seeds of its own."
This catches our attention. The sapling we planted in Ironwood has flourished over the past two years, its growth matching the transformation of Edmund's kingdom from rigid suppression to balanced structure. That it now produces seeds suggests a stability we had hoped for but weren't certain we would achieve so quickly.
"Life flows where it should," the Cat continues cryptically before beginning to fade once more. "And magic follows life's example."
He vanishes, leaving only his words hanging in the air between us.
A group of playing cards—soldiers who now serve as gardeners more often than guards—dance past, their paper bodies rustling as they tend to the flowers. They bow respectfully as they pass but don't interrupt our peaceful afternoon. Fear no longer governs my kingdom. Respect has taken its place—deeper, truer, and far more meaningful.
Ravenna rises from her chaise, extending her hand to me. "Walk with me?"
I take it without hesitation, our fingers interlacing naturally. Where our skin touches, a faint glow emanates—our magic responding to the contact as it always does.
We stroll along the pool's edge, passing magical creatures that would have once seemed impossibly mismatched. A bandersnatch cub plays gently with shadow kittens from Darkmore. The March Hare takes afternoon tea with a solemn raven-scholar. The Duchess reads poetry to an audience of attentive sprites.
In the center of the garden stands our greatest achievement—a mature Blood Tree that represents the perfect fusion of our kingdoms. Neither the original from Darkmore nor purelyUnderland's creation, but something new and stronger. Its crimson bark gleams with health, its silver-red leaves creating dappled patterns on the grass beneath. At its base, the first signs of new saplings emerge—the next generation growing naturally from what we carefully cultivated.
Ravenna pauses beneath its branches, looking up through the canopy to the shifting sky beyond. "Do you ever miss it?" she asks, echoing a question I once asked her when this was all new.
"Miss what?"
"The fear," she says simply. "The complete control that came with being feared."
I consider this, trying to remember the satisfaction I once felt watching my subjects tremble. It feels like recalling someone else's life—a dream that faded upon waking.
"No," I answer truthfully. "Fear was a poor substitute for this."
She turns to me, those beautiful eyes studying my face with the intensity that once intimidated everyone in her presence. Now I see only love there—an emotion neither of us believed we would ever experience.
"And what is 'this' exactly?" she asks, though she knows the answer.
I smile, reaching up to trace the line of her jaw with my fingertips. "Balance. Partnership. Peace." I pause, feeling the magic pulse between us. "Love."
The word no longer frightens me as it once did. Love had seemed a weakness when I watched my parents die despite being beloved by their subjects. Now I understand it as the foundation of true strength—not vulnerability but courage.
Ravenna catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. "Who would have thought the fearsome Queen of Hearts had such capacity for sentiment?"
"Certainly not the terrifying witch-queen of Darkmore," I counter with a grin.
She laughs, the sound causing the Blood Tree's leaves to shimmer with responding magic. Around us, the garden seems to glow more brightly, the pool's water sparkling with increased luminescence. Our happiness feeds the magic that sustains our kingdoms, just as the magic sustains us in return.
A shadow passes overhead—a dragon from Ironwood's newly established magical preserves, its scales gleaming with mathematical patterns that reflect Edmund's balanced approach to reintroducing magic to his kingdom. It circles once before continuing on its journey, a reminder of how far all three kingdoms have come.
As night deepens around us, I lean against Ravenna, content in a way I never imagined possible.
"We should return to the castle soon," she murmurs against my hair. "The delegation from the outer territories arrives tomorrow."
"Mmm, responsibilities," I sigh dramatically. "How inconsiderate of them to interrupt our time together."
"The price of successful rule," she reminds me, though her tone is equally reluctant.
But neither of us moves. The moment is too perfect, the peace too precious to rush. The kingdom will wait another hour for its queens.
