Author's Note: This chapter puzzled me for a long time. It's a ridiculously short chapter (by which I mean it's eight pages in Word, where most of the other chapters in this Book average out at twenty), and it's all about the subplots. Still, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the hell out of this chapter.
Special Thanks: As always, thanks to Ranguvar27 for the wonderful beta'ing!
Usually, when Regina visited Marmoreal, she stayed in the suite that had been reserved for her since her birth. She loved her rooms; she hosted frequent salons and Tea Parties there, surrounded by the hundreds of hats lining the walls, each handmade by Tarrant before her birth.
Alice didn't think she would ever be able to walk into Regina's suite again. Where before, the suite had been a silent mausoleum, a memorial to her lost daughter, now it was sullied by nearly being Regina's grave.
It seemed impossible that it had already been five days since Lily's Queenmaking; equally impossible that it had been only five days. To Alice, it was just one never-ending nightmare, and she sought in vain to wake back up.
She was sure that for as long as she lived, she would never forget the sight of Regina in a crumpled heap on the floor, laying in a pool of blood and watery Tea. Nothing would ever erase the terror of realizing that Regina had no pulse, that she wasn't breathing. She had screamed in horror; loud enough to alert the guards, though not loud enough to wake the dead.
Shuddering, Alice gripped Regina's hand, checking her pulse for the hundredth time that hour. It was still frantic, racing like a bird's. Madam Gwynyth had said there was still a high risk that Regina's heart wouldn't be able to handle the accelerated pulse; that it would give out and fail before too long. Tarrant hadn't taken that news very well; indeed, Alice rather thought that if she hadn't grabbed him, he would have attacked Gwynyth in his rage. Alice had sent him from Regina's rooms after that, but she couldn't disagree with his sentiment. She would not accept a death sentence; Regina had to survive.
A violent, jerky shudder from Regina pulled Alice from her thoughts. Steeling her jaw, she refocused her attention on her daughter as what seemed like every pore in Regina's body began weeping more of that ghastly poison. Without releasing Regina's hand, Alice reached for the sponge, dabbing Regina's skin clean as best she could.
It was simply astounding, how much Tea was leaching out of Regina's body. Astounding, and terrifying. According to Gwynyth, someone must have been dosing Regina for months in order to reach these toxicity levels. Tea Sickness, it was called; when a person had ingested so much of the medicine that the body could no longer process the fake emotions, and began purging the poison. It was a painful, dangerous process; if Regina's own emotions couldn't be mastered, the emotional meltdown could kill her.
Alice shivered as she stroked her daughter's brow. Fates, she was so cold. Five days, and Regina was still in the grips of the Chill. She lay as stiffly as a block of ice; half the time, the water Alice sponged onto her skin to wash away the Tea turned to ice, clinging to her too-pale flesh and hair, now liberally strewn with streaks of white-blond.
Tea Sickness… Chill… Madness… A racing, over-burdened heart… The scar on her side opening and nearly bleeding out… It was a perfect storm of bad situations combining to kill her daughter.
Gwynyth couldn't even reassure Alice that things would be better when Regina awoke. They had no idea how she might have been affected by all these illnesses attacking at once. Regina might have been broken. She might wake up and be completely, irrevocably Mad. Or she might never wake up; she might remain in this comatose state forever, or she might slip away into Death's embrace. There was no way to tell… and nothing Alice could do to determine events. Nothing she did could persuade the Fates to allow this or that outcome; she was utterly helpless.
What was the point in being the Once and Always Champion if she couldn't fight the most important battle of her life?
Setting down the sponge, Alice stood and began stripping the sheets from the bed, tenderly wrapping Regina's nude body in a blanket. The servants were constantly washing linens to prevent them being stained by the hateful medicines. Regina couldn't be left to lie on Tea-soaked sheets; she'd only reabsorb the poison. They couldn't even properly bandage her scar, for fear that the wound might leach Tea which a bandage would absorb and redistribute into her system.
Fates, there was so much Tea. Five days of nonstop purging, and it still wasn't gone. Gwynyth had identified Doubt, Fear, Guilt, Anxiety, Confusion, Lust, Confidence, and Calm; a deadly cocktail. Someone had been trying to keep Regina incapacitated, and they had done a horrifyingly good job. What had been their purpose? Who stood to profit from destroying Regina? And what would happen, if their scheme succeeded and Regina succumbed to this attack?
Alice glanced over her shoulder as the door opened, exchanging a worried look with Gwynyth before the Healer crossed to her son's bed, smoothing a hand over his forehead.
"She started leaching again?" Gwynyth asked.
Alice nodded. "How's his shoulder?"
"No change," Gwynyth said grimly.
Alice winced in sympathy. Five days ago, Dafydd had been visiting Gwynyth at her apothecary shop in Hatsfield, when he had suddenly collapsed to the floor, crying out and clutching his shoulder before passing out in a pool of blood. When Gwyn had pried Dafydd's hand away, she'd found broken, jagged glass-like shards protruding from his flesh— the mangled remains of a broken heart. Knowing that Regina was the only possible cure, Gwyn had risked traveling with her son's body to Marmoreal. Upon learning the state Regina was in, Gwynyth had vowed to nurse her back to health, so that Regina could save Dafydd's life.
So here they lay, side by side in their beds, both dying by degrees. Once in Regina's presence, Dafydd's shoulder had stopped bleeding, and he'd entered this catatonic state. Regina's heart, in turn, had finally responded to Healer Hermoditus' attempts at resuscitation, and began to beat again— hard and fast enough to keep them both alive.
Gwynyth sighed as she straightened from Dafydd's side. "I can't decide if this heart-bond of theirs is a miracle, or the cruelest fate I've ever heard of."
Alice couldn't agree more.
Heart-bonds were exceedingly rare phenomena, known mostly through old legends. They were said to be Underland's gift to ill-fated lovers; a way to be together even when life pulled them apart. The lovers' hearts would beat in time, and they would be able to feel each others' emotions. And when one died, the other would follow, so that they would never be separated.
On the one hand, the heart-bond was saving Dafydd's life right now. As long as Regina's heart beat, it would keep Dafydd alive. And because her heart was beating for two, it gave his heart a chance to repair itself and heal from the debilitating Heartbreak.
Also, it was incredibly sweet, in a very sad way, that they'd been heart-bonded. They'd loved each other for so long, but there had been so many obstacles in their way. And now Regina was married to Jack, and would never be free. It seemed only right that she be heart-bonded to the man she truly loved.
But at the same time, the heart-bond made their separate life-threatening conditions all the more dangerous. If one of them succumbed, both would perish. As a matter of fact, Gwynyth was positive that was why they were all here; either Dafydd's heart had finally broken and his collapse had triggered Regina's, or vice versa.
And there was nothing Alice could do to influence the future one way or the other. All she could do was hold her baby's freezing cold hand, and beg the Spirit of Underland to be merciful.
Upon her Queenmaking, Regina had instituted a weekly Tea Party to all the members of her Court. It wasn't a mandatory event, but it was a chance to socialize, to see and be seen. And while no official business was conducted, it was a chance for the Nobles to conduct their own form of politics, currying favors and plotting alliances among their ranks.
Mary Contrary, Duchess of Tearnan Og, was usually found at table with Queen Regina. As Regina's Mistress of the Household and most trusted friend, Mary was most often at Regina's side, to entertain and advise as needed.
Today was not a normal day.
It had been six days since Lily Palladia's Queenmaking. But Regina was not yet home from Marmoreal; in fact, the Queen had sent no word since leaving Crims. King Jacoby had returned home two days after the Queenmaking, his wife conspicuously absent. He had brushed aside the Courtiers' questions with a brusque explanation that there was to be a Meeting of the Deck, and Regina had elected to remain in the White City until it was over. That had seemed to satisfy most of the Nobles.
Mary was not one of them.
Poor Jack. It really wasn't his fault; how could he know that Mary was in contact with Rhys Hightopp, that she was fully aware that Regina had collapsed on the eve of Lily's Queenmaking ball in a puddle of blood and Tea? Rhys had informed Mary that Regina's heart had stopped beating— that for a time, she had technically been dead. As far as Mary knew, Regina hadn't woken yet; she might still succumb to Death's charms.
Mary was positive that it was all Jack's fault. After all, Jack was the reason Regina had gone Mad; it wouldn't surprise Mary at all if Jack had tried to kill Regina, to take the throne for himself permanently. It was rather admirable actually, that he was so dedicated and determined to utterly destroy the queendom.
The question now was, what to do about it?
Open warfare would probably be suicide. Jack's position at Court was ironclad; his star had never burned brighter. To challenge him now, with no proof of her accusations and no support, was a surefire method of ensuring she quietly disappeared, just as any who spoke in favor of Regina vanished. As influential as Mary was, she wasn't much good to Gigi dead.
So it would have to be subterfuge. That would be quite exciting; she enjoyed being sneaky. Her father had been quite good at it, before Iracebeth relieved him of his head. How brilliant that she and Jack could continue their parents' battle.
But what resources did she have at her disposal? Jack held the throne, and the Heart… What did she have?
As Mary glanced around, she wrinkled her nose. Good galumphing griffons, what on earth was Lady Chatteron wearing?
And then it hit her.
"Lady Chatteron!" she yoo-hooed. "Come share a cup with me."
Mary grinned to herself as Lady Chatteron swished her way over to the table, settling herself in her seat with a great deal of fussing over her ruffles and ribbons.
"Good afternoon, Lady Contrary," Chatteron simpered. "It's been a long time since we sat down to tea together."
"Oh, not so long," Mary countered, pouring their tea. "A few months only. But I am sorry it's been a while. You must catch me up on all the Court gossip."
"How am I supposed to do that?" Chatteron scoffed. "Nobody ever tells me anything."
Mary grinned into her teacup. Despite her protestations, the only person who had a better grasp of the temperament and mood swings of the Court than Lady Chatteron was Mary herself.
"I had heard, though, that Baron Waddlen took umbrage with some of the improvements to the castle," Chatteron confided, snapping her fan open and fluttering it about her long face.
"Improvements? My word, these aren't improvements!" Mary exclaimed as she handed Chatteron her cup. "All the lovely gardens gone! Our rooms altered overnight! You know that absolutely hideous looking glass of mine, been in my family for ages? Disappeared! It's lovely! Of course, it is fantastic not to wear such heavy skirts," Mary added, glancing at the knee-length hem of her dress. "But the color! Can you imagine Regina and me trying to pull off red? With our hair?"
"Oh you poor dear," Chatteron sighed. "Yes, it must be quite difficult for you."
"It's divine," Mary stated. "But you know what I find fascinating? How King Jack's gotten rid of people."
"I've heard whispers that he wants to banish the Duke of Annwyn," Chatteron frowned. "Do you think the King believes those rumors about the Duke and Queen's affair?"
"Probably, since everyone seems to believe the rumors to be fact," Mary nodded in agreement. "Though I suppose a King doesn't need a reason. Now of course, I never liked the Duke much myself. Always lurking in the shadows, he made me so nervous! But he was so devoted to Regina," she mused, silently apologizing to Dafydd for the lies she was telling.
"Poor Majesty, she's seemed quite out of her depth since the Joust," Chatteron frowned.
"I know," Mary nodded sadly. "Of course, who can blame her, when she's being poisoned."
"Poison!" Chatteron gasped, snapping her fan shut.
"Yes, didn't you know?" Mary smiled. "King Jack's been poisoning Regina with Emotion Teas, isn't that clever?"
"My dear Duchess, are you quite sure?" Chatteron pressed.
"Absolutely positive. I've seen him do it myself," Mary fibbed, nodding grandly. "You must admit, it's devilishly clever. It's gotten him everything he wanted. He has a crown, his rival's disappeared, his Queen's under his control…"
"What do you mean, the Queen is under his control?" Chatteron asked, leaning in, fascinated.
"Why, don't you see?" Mary asked, feigning surprise. "He had to keep her docile somehow, or she'd have stopped him from destroying Crims. You didn't think she approved of what he's done to us?"
"I… no, I don't suppose I did," Chatteron admitted.
"Well, never mind it now," Mary said merrily. "We're all about to lose our heads, so what does it matter? Come, try the deviled eggs and tell me what on earth made Lady Longeare believe she had a head for hats."
As Lady Chatteron launched into the juiciest tidbits of Court gossip, Mary smiled to herself. The rumor of Regina being poisoned with Tea would be common knowledge around the Court by tonight, and would be traveling through the country by tomorrow. Depending on what Jack did in response, Mary could begin the chess game with him, and defeat him from the inside out.
She enjoyed fostering this little revolution. She would call it the Royal Flush; that had a nice ring to it…
It had been a good morning.
With Regina gone from the palace, Afanen hadn't had to visit the Mad Queen in her tower. Which was wonderful; it was incredibly unsettling to have to deal with her Madness. And Jack kept himself busy ruling, so she hadn't even had to accommodate him. She had all the perks of being a royal mistress— power, protection, position— and none of the hassle.
The day had taken a decided nosedive for the worse when Rhys had arrested her.
At least he'd had the decency to do it quietly, which was more than she might have expected from one of her oafish clansmen. She'd been in the bath when the knock on the door came. Assuming it was Jack coming for a little fun before going to his office, she hadn't bothered dressing; she'd just gotten out of the tub while her maid answered the door.
She'd been a little surprised to hear a male voice that wasn't Jack's, but she still hadn't been alarmed. Though she was Jack's mistress, she did occasionally bestow her favors on other Nobles in the Court. If one of them had been bold enough to come to her door in broad daylight, she might chastise him for foolishness, but she was willing to dally. So imagine her surprise to see not one of her many admirers, but her clansman standing in her sitting room.
Rhys had been more flustered about Afanen's nudity than she had been. She couldn't suppress her amusement; Rhys had always been awkward around females.
"What do you want, Rhys?" she'd purred, lazily sashaying away from him toward her privacy shield.
"I'm placing you under arrest."
She had paused for a moment, then laughed, tying a robe around herself while walking back out to face Rhys and his two Albion lackeys.
"Excuse me?" she asked.
"Afanen Hightopp, you are hereby under arrest for poisoning Queen Regina with Emotion Teas," Rhys formally replied, reading off a scroll. "If you agree to come quietly, we won't cause you an embarrassing scene."
"Are you Mad?" she'd asked scornfully. "I am the Queen's Lady of Honor, protected by the King-"
"The King is the one who ordered the arrest," Rhys had interrupted, holding up the scroll so she could see Jack's signature and seal. "Take her away," he'd commanded his men.
She had been too stunned to resist, or to have the presence of mind to demand that she be allowed to properly dress. The guards had been gentle, as Rhys promised, but they'd led her straight to the dungeons with no further explanations.
Afanen didn't know what to think. What on earth was this ridiculous arrest about? While she had fed Regina the Teas, she hadn't mixed them; Jack had been adamant that there be no trace of evidence pointing to her involvement. So what was Jack doing, pinning this on her?
Frustrated, Afanen stood, wrapping her robe more tightly around herself and folding her hands behind her back as she paced the length of her cell. She was surprised that Isla Affalin had dungeons; didn't that go against Regina's White Vow? Then again, Dafydd had helped design the castle; this must have been his doing. It wasn't so bad, really. The dungeons were underground, so they were dark and chill, but they were clean and dry. The cell was small and the air was stale, but she wasn't manacled to a wall. She was bored out of her skull, but she wasn't uncomfortable.
Afanen kept pacing, a frown firmly affixed to her face. What was she doing here? Why had Jack ordered her arrested?
Putting her down here got her out of the way, obviously. But why did he need her out of the way? Was there a part to his grand plan that she needed an alibi for? What even was his plan? She'd been so busy with her part in Regina's demise that she hadn't even thought of Jack's greater objectives.
He'd returned to Underland, and retaken his throne from Regina. He'd solidified his power and gotten himself named acting King… What came next?
Glancing around her cell, an answer slowly dawned on her. You are hereby under arrest for poisoning Queen Regina with Emotion Tea. Jack had ordered Regina to be incapacitated with Tea. She had long ago fallen Mad; she'd been swept out of the way. And now Jack was pinning the blame on Afanen— disposing of her just as easily.
But no, Afanen argued with herself. There was no proof that she was involved; Jack had ordered it to be that way. How could she be arrested when there was no proof linking her to the crime?
No, Jack must be playing some other game, she assured herself as she sat on her cot again. She just had to wait until he was ready to show her his hand.
"No!" Afanen snarled, struggling against the Albion as they dragged her towards the door. "No, I'm innocent! I'm being framed! Jack!"
Jack managed to keep his poker face as the door slammed shut after her, ending her sentencing procedure. Turning back to Rhys and the remainder of his guards, and the cluster of Nobles crowding the Throne Room, he raised his eyebrows.
"I think this is all rather conclusive, don't you?" he asked, nodding down at the pile of evidence they'd found.
Chests filled with bottles of Tea. Books on Tea-making and their effects in food and drink. Recipes and notes in Afanen's hand about the Teas' effects on Regina. And, most damning, a selection of Regina's teacups, all of which tested positive for Tea— and the handkerchief that had been used to prepare them all.
Rhys nodded in agreement. "Aye, m'lord. This is enough proof of her guilt."
"Destroy all of this. And Afanen will remain under arrest in the dungeon for the time being, while I consult the books of law to determine an appropriate punishment for her crime," Jack announced. "She is forthwith stripped of her title and rank. Her property reverts to the Crown. I shall travel there forthwith. Prepare my carriage."
As he strode from the suite, Jack allowed himself a brief, satisfied smile. Well, he'd managed that rather handily.
When rumors had started circulating three days ago that Regina had been Tea-poisoned, Jack had admittedly been worried. He was already walking a dangerous line, with Regina possibly dying in Marmoreal. Once the Healers had gotten to her, the game was up; all of Underland would know of her condition before long. Jack had needed to act quickly to save the situation, and to prevent suspicion from being cast on him.
He had thought at first to frame the Doctor, but Vulpez had stayed his hand, pointing out that they didn't know what sort of state Regina was in, but that they'd surely need the Doctor's skill to deal with her once she returned to Crims.
"But Afanen?" Vulpez had shrugged. "You said yourself that she was outgrowing her usefulness. Better to dispose of an unneeded tool than risk it malfunctioning on you."
The man had a point. And it had been beyond easy to plant evidence in Afanen's quarters, though it was a stroke of pure luck that Afanen had been keeping notes about Regina's condition. Really, with Afanen so thoughtfully providing the rope, wouldn't it be rude of Jack not use it to hang her?
Now, with Afanen out of the way and her estate in his hands, Jack was free to go there and make sure his tracks were covered from any of the… unpleasantness… that had been plaguing Underland lately.
Yes, Jack decided. Everything was going quite well.