It was over. Alice slayed the Jabberwocky. Ilosovic looked at the victor with utter disbelief. How could this scared little girl best the most ferocious beast in the Red Queen's arsenal? The beast's head rolled down the stairs like a large ball and landed at Iracebeth's feet. The Red Queen screamed for her army to kill her. But they would no longer be taking orders from her. The battlefield then echoed with the sound of thousands of weapons be dropped to the ground. Stayne remained silent as he watched the White Queen assume her crown and pass sentence to her sister. However, once the sentence was proclaimed, Ilosovic could no longer keep silent.
"Majesty…I hope that you bear me no ill will…" the Knave pleaded softly to the new reigning queen, with a desire to be considered for a new beginning in the court of the lovely, pale woman before him. Although he was a faithful servant to her sister, he was not particularly attached to the large headed wrench. He was only attached to the power that the relationship brought about. However, the White queen paused for only a moment when she said, "Only this one, Ilosovic Stayne, you are to join Iracebeth in banishment from this day until the end of Underland." With this condemning sentence, he felt a shackle being attached to his wrist. His heart fell in despair and disbelief, and he looked at the occupant of the other shackle. Her large eyes warmed and a small smile appeared on her lips as she said, "At least we have each other".
At this moment, the Knave's world collapsed. All of this time spent trying to rise to power, only to be snatched away by the new monarch's sentence. To be condemned to spending the rest of his life with this spoiled brat was too much for him to bear. So, he grabbed his spare knife and was prepared to cut that sentence short; but the Hatter foiled his action by a well-aimed knife throw of his own. It pierced his knife wielding hand and he was forced to drop it. As Stayne collapsed on the ground beside the former Red Queen, he cried in desperation for his life to be taken instead of this punishment. But the White queen said quietly with a look of contempt in her eyes, "But I do not owe you any kindness…"
So the Knave and the former Red Queen, Iracebeth were now to spend the rest of their lives banished to Outlands. After the guards threw them across the border, that was maintained by an iron gate covered with wicked looking pikes, the former Red Queen was screaming at him in anger after his actions earlier in the day. Her giant red face getting redder by the moment, Stayne couldn't even understand her words anymore. Numbly he decided that he would take matters into his own hands. He grasped her by the throat, cutting her words off. He squeezed with all of his might, causing the giant head for once to be silent. Her lips were flapping like one of her former fish servants and her eyes were bulging and becoming more bloodshot with every moment. After what seemed like forever, her body relaxed and her stare became blank. The 'Bloody Big Head' was finally dead, at the hands of her former lover. Stayne stood up, dropping the corpse, it's wrist still in the shackle. He gave a sigh of exasperation, he would have to find a way to cut off the hand, but right now he just needed a moment to think about his next move.
Outside of the rabbit hole, years passed since Ms. Alice Kingsleigh set sail for new horizons and expanded her father's company. Meanwhile, the Ascot family grew with the lovely grandchildren that Lady Ascot so desired. Hamish ended up marrying and starting a family with an accomplished, lovely young lady from the neighboring town. After the humiliation that he suffered under Ms. Kingsleigh's rejection, he was relieved to find another woman willing to accept him. She even met his mother's approval, she had less distractions in her head and was more willing to fit in the societal mold. The oldest child was now 6 years old, with the next only 1 year behind him, and the third only 3. Hamish was busy working with his father and could not spend as much quality time with his children as his wife would wish, but she also was overwhelmed with the demands of so many at once, so she asked her father-in-law for assistance in hiring a new governess for the children. Lord Ascot was willing to help is daughter-in-law in any way that he could, and thanks to Ms. Kingsleigh's role in the company, he was able to spend time researching suitable prospects.
He just finished his 4th interview at the institute which was in a neighboring town. Most of the candidates were quite stiff and settled in their own ways. Most were older women that had many years of disciplining children into submission under their girdles. He just couldn't bring himself to hire a governess that would be so harsh on his grandchildren. He recalled the way that Lord Kingsleigh would handle his little girl's nightmares when she would interrupt their business meetings. He was always so patient and indulging in her imagination. Lord Ascot was too late in adopting that practice with his own children, but perhaps he could make up for it in a kind and generous governess for his grandchildren.
As Lord Ascot rose from his seat, he stretched his stiff back and started to pace around the small room. The floorboards creaking with each step, and the walls settling according to where his footsteps fell. The dark, colorless wood bringing a feeling of utter hopelessness in the splintered grains. Lord Ascot gave out a sigh of exasperation as his mind re-visited the interviews, searching for a sign that the one could be found among them. However, none stood out in his mind. Each of them were different, but still maintained an air of self-reliance on past cruelty to get their students to learn. Not an unreasonable amount of cruelty, but just enough to strike fear in the hearts of those young people. The superintendent of the institution was still seated next to his formerly occupied seat and looking through some papers, seemingly just to avoid eye-contact with the gentleman.
"So…" Lord Ascot asked, as he ran his hand through his grey hair, "How many more should we expect?"
"My Lord, you have just interviewed most our instructors, all of them of the highest quality. I don't believe that you will be satisfied with any of them. Perhaps you will need to expand your search…"
Just then, the room opened to find a young woman with dark brown hair and dark blue eyes carrying a teacup in each hand.
"Please forgive the interruption, Ms. Stone, but I thought that you both would like a cup of tea."
"Oh…." Said the older woman with a slight annoyance apparent in her voice, "Yes, yes thank you Ms. Whitlock…that will be all."
Ms. Whitlock placed the two cups on the table gently, curtsied to both of them, and departed.
"Who was that?" Lord Ascot inquired, "she isn't a servant?"
"No," said the superintendent, "though she constantly takes on the role. She is our newest instructor, one of our former pupils. She has no home or family to speak of, so she has remained in our institution since she was 5 years old. She is bright, but too easy on the pupils. I have yet to correct her of her lack of discipline with them. But hopefully she will learn."
"I would like to interview her," said Lord Ascot, "she seems like a decent possibility."
"Her?!" said the superintendent almost too loudly, but she recollected herself with a small cough and re-composed herself, "but my Lord, she has only been teaching for less than 6 months, surely you would rather have a more experienced instructor?"
"Humor me," he said, resuming his seat.
Ms. Whitlock was packing her carpetbag, ready to depart on a new adventure. She still couldn't believe that Lord Ascot would hire her as his grandchildren's governess. The older gentleman was very kind, she felt, and clearly adored his family. With no family of her own, she was a little envious of them. However, she would not let that feeling affect her instruction. She continued to pack her scanty wardrobe into the carpetbag that she was able to purchase from another instructor. Fortunately, there was plenty of room for her belongings.
"So…" said a deep sarcastic voice behind her, "you're the one he hired?"
Abigail turned to see her soon-to-be former roommate. Ms. Cratcher was a tall, skinny lady, almost devoid of color in her face and her eyes perpetually maintained a suspicious squint. The woman's dark brown hair was sprinkled with grey streaks and was controlled by a harsh bun in the back of her head. She was a strict disciplinarian and gave un-asked advice on maintaining classroom order to Ms. Whitlock on a daily basis. But Abigail chose to maintain a courteous demeanor to her, despite the constant negativity that evaded her roommate's lips.
"Yes, it's unbelievable to say the least."
"Hmm…" she breathed as she crossed her arms. "They couldn't have hired a less qualified candidate in this institution. You should thank your lucky stars…"
Abigail couldn't agree more. She knew that there were far more qualified instructors, but she was going to do the best she could, despite her lack of experience.
"I do….and I want to thank you for all of your helpful advice over this past year. I only hope that I can meet your and Lord Ascot's expectations."
"Speaking of advice, let me offer you one last bit before you leave…be wary of your employers, all of them. Don't put your trust wholly on them to maintain proper decorum. Maintain your professional distance. Do not make friends with the family, just do your duty and no more."
Abigail hesitated. She wasn't sure how to respond. She always wished for a family, since as long as she could remember. A small part of her was hoping that she would become one of the family, in a sense, similar to a distant relation. She did her best to keep this desire hidden, did Ms. Cratcher read her thoughts?
"Thank you Ms. Cratcher. Again, I truly appreciate your advice, I will do my best to keep it," she held her carpetbag in her left hand, while extending her right toward her. Ms. Cratcher clutched the hand tightly and brought herself closer, while maintaining her grasp.
"Do not forgo this advice…Trust me, governesses are never truly welcome in families. And the world is cruel. Be strong and rely on only yourself."
With those final words, the other woman left the room. And Abigail was left to reflect on lingering doubts.
Ilosovic Stayne was at last physically free from his former sovereign. He was able to procure a knife from a passerby by threatening his life. The blood from the corpse's arm stained the handcuff, and Stayne was forced to endure the odor for now. He surveyed his surroundings, the air seemed to be a breeding ground for despair. All around him was barren wasteland. However, unknown to all the kingdom, he was actually quite familiar to this part of the world, having been born and raised there. As his boots kicked up dust, he remembered the day that he said goodbye to this land to find his place in newer society. But now, his journey led him back to where he started. Giving a sigh of frustration, he began to walk.
Abigail ran till her lungs could no longer endure the exertion. Her legs were on fire and her skin was covered in sweat. She collapsed on the ground on top of sticks, moss, and dirt. She was in a forest, still on the Ascot family grounds, but still far from the Manor. Her face was covered with flowing tears and she sobbed loudly, furthering aggravating her lungs. How could this happen?! she thought. Where can I go now? Despite her desperation from out-running the memories of earlier, she relived them again in her mind…
Abigail was playing the pianoforte in the lounge of the Ascot Manor, having been governess there for a couple of months. The children were visiting friends from a neighboring estate with their parents to assist with strengthening the partnership of the family business. Therefore, she had no employment and was required to entertain herself in the meantime. After reading for an hour, she decided to re-acquaint herself with the pianoforte. She played for the family several evenings, but was grateful that she had an opportunity to play for her own amusement for once. As her fingers danced across the keys, her mind was transported to a fictional world where romance and dreams were real. The piece that she played reminded her of the Shakespearian play, Romeo and Juliet, with beautiful chords and somber tones. While the notes were singing in the air, she lost all comprehension of her surroundings. Suddenly, she was brought back by a cough close behind her.
Gasping in surprise, she sprang from the bench to face the person that had interrupted her. It was Lord Ascot, her employer. His face denoted pleasure and a slight humor at seeing the young girl fly from her seat. He lifted his gloved hand toward her in a calming gesture.
"Please…don't stop on my account.."
Despite his plea, Abigail knew that she would not be able to recapture the moment of musical bliss. And recalling that this man had witnessed her indulgence, her face suddenly flushed a deep shade of red.
"Forgive me…." She stuttered, "I didn't know that I was playing so loudly…I'll return to my room now…"
She turned back to the pianoforte to close the key cover, when a gloved hand touched her own. She again jumped in surprise, this time in response to this unexpected touch. Lord Ascot's face was very close to her right side, she could feel his breath on her cheek.
"Ms. Whitlock…" he whispered in her ear. "Do forgive me, but your hands are truly a gift…" He gently grasped her right hand with both of his own, and proceeded to kiss the back of her hand. This was a foreign practice to her, only known through the novels that she secretly indulged in over the years. No man had ever greeted her with a kiss of the hand, therefore she didn't know how to respond at first.
"My lord….I….." She couldn't get the words to form in her mouth as the gentleman's eyes pierced her own. Suddenly, before she knew it, his lips were on her own. The older man's experience was obvious, and caused the young governess' head to swim. After what seemed a long time, she remembered herself and withdrew her head quickly, causing her to fall on the floor. She touched her tender lips in disbelief, she had been kissed by her married employer. He was now standing above her with a smirk on his lips. Not a malicious one to most observers, but a playful one.
"My dear Ms. Whitlock, you must be more careful…" he offered his hand to her to assist her to her feet. She hesitated, thinking that she must get away to think about her next course of action. But she was not given that opportunity. Lord Ascot grasped her arm and forced her to her feet. The sudden action caused Ms. Whitlock to lose her footing and caused her to fall into his chest. He laughed a deep husky chuckle and kissed her again, this time more forcefully. He would not release his grip on her arms, despite her attempts to flee.
"What is the meaning of this!?" a woman's voice cried from the doorway. Finally the man released his grip on Abigail, causing her to regain her footing. She then followed her employer's gaze to the door. There was Mrs. Ascot, the wife of Lord Ascot with a fury in her eyes like she had never seen before.
"My dear…" Lord Ascot pleaded.
"Silence!" Mrs. Ascot cried, "How dare you!" she screamed at the young governess. "We welcomed you into our home, gave you a place to stay, allowed you to educate our grandchildren, and this is how you repay us?! By taking advantage of my husband!"
In confusion, Abigail was again at a loss for words. Again, she was unable to speak before Lord Ascot interrupted her.
"My dear, please calm yourself."
"Calm myself?! Calm myself?! After this betrayal?! The scandal will ruin us! It wasn't enough that you welcomed another woman into our bed before! Now you are being seduced by the GOVERNESS!" again, she turned her attention to Abigail, "Ms. Whitlock, you are no longer welcome in this house. Gather your belongings, I want you gone in one hour!"
So this is how she ended up in the woods, at night, alone and distraught. She was kicking herself for allowing this to happen. Ms. Cractcher warned me, and I didn't listen. How could I have been so blind. She thought about what her next action should be. She only had a few coins in her reticule, she forgot her wages in her rush to leave the Manor, and she knew that she could not go back. Her only option was to return to the Institution, and hope that Mrs. Ascot would not send word of the events and get her banished from there as well. She got up on weary legs, her dress was covered in dirt and mud, furthering depressing her mind. Abigail began to walk toward where she thought the road would lead. But then, she lost her footing and fell into a large hole. No one was around to see….
