Chapter VI: En Passant
Alice Kingsleigh looked around in the direction the gossiping Daisies pointed. She stared at the figure before her in amazement.
The woman that sat a few feet away from her – noticing neither Alice nor the talkative garden flowers – was, easily, the most beautiful and stately lady Alice had ever beheld. Her skin was whiter than snow, her lips, eyelids, and nails painted black. Her hair was the lightest of blondes, and she wore long, white regal robes adorned with silvery lace and metal beads and silver slippers. Her eyes were like molten chocolate of the finest quality, and simply mesmerizing in appearance.
"That's Mirana," whispered the young red tulip. "The White Queen of Marmoreal and rightful ruler of Underland."
Alice was so in awe of the White Queen, she couldn't hear.
Did that flower say, "Wonderland?" Why am I not surprised…
"Is she really a queen?"
"The queen," corrected Rose Mary. "Or…at least she WAS. When she was pruned, I fear she lost her throne."
Despite her beauty, Alice had to realize that the White Queen was in quite a state. In her dainty hands she held a white wool shawl, but not matter what she tried, she could not get it to fit right on her shoulders. She tried one way…no. Another…even worse! After seven or eight tries, the Queen groaned with frustration and slumped upon the stone she sat on, mumbling, "bread and butter" to herself in a calming tone, as if to sooth herself.
"Might I speak with her?" Alice asked Rose Mary (as if the old flower had anything to do with the business of a queen).
"If your roots will allow," laughed the rose in response. Alice smiled, curtsied in thanks, and left the flower bunch to join the Queen, who looked up, startled, as Alice approached.
"Hello, dear child," she said in a voice like honey.
Alice curtsied politely for the umpteenth time that day.
"Am I addressing Mirana, the White Queen of Marmoreal?" she asked timidly, remembering how people addressed Queens in fairy tales and hoping she recalled the tulip's words correctly.
The Queen chuckled wryly.
"Yes, if you call that a-dressing," she said. "I certainly do not. I've been a-dressing myself for the last two hours! I thought some fresh air would help, but I really see no difference."
I fail to see how it WOULD make a difference…and by the looks of that shawl, it would be better if someone else a-dressed her…
"May I put your shawl straight for you, Your Majesty?" Alice offered good-naturedly.
The Queen smiled.
"Why, what a kind request! Yes, and thank you!" said the White Queen and handed the shawl to Alice. It was full of pins and had a brooch the shape of a white and yellow striped wasp, and Alice had to very careful not to prick herself as she went around to the Queen's back and put the shawl over Mirana's shoulders.
"What is your name, my dear girl?" asked the Queen.
"Alice Kingsleigh, Your Majesty."
The Queen turned slightly.
"Alice, you say?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
There was a short silence following this as Alice set to work switching the pins about on the shawl.
"It looks like a porcupine!"
"I don't know what's wrong with it," sighed the Queen with just a hint of melodrama. "Out of temper is my supposition. There's no pleasing it, no matter what I try!"
"With all due respect, Your Majesty, I don't think it will ever get on straight if you pin up all on one side like this!" Alice giggled as she continued fixing up the pins, and soon felt the shawl was set. "There! All that's left is the brooch. Could you get that, Your Majesty?"
"I could…but be warned, if I do, I shall prick my finger on the brooch stinger and yelp."
Alice laughed.
"How can you know?" she asked.
"Things about here work differently than in Overland."
"Overland?"
The Queen pointed up. As she began to try and fasten the brooch, she nearly dropped it. Catching it again, the knife-shaped "stinger" of the wasp caught her finger, and the Queen yelped. Then she turned to Alice with a grin.
"See?" she said triumphantly.
Alice went for a handkerchief…but her undergarment bore no pockets, let alone anything to put in them.
"Nevermind," said the Queen. "I have my own." She dove one of her long, thin fingered hands into a pocket of her robes and pulled out a vanilla colored handkerchief and dabbed at the cut with it.
"Not to seem rude," said Alice at length. "But haven't you a ladies maid?"
"Not with me," replied the White Queen. "I'd take you with pleasure though: two pence a week, squimberry jam every other day!"
"I don't want you to hire me!" giggled Alice. "Besides, I don't even know what a squimberry is!"
"It makes very good jam."
"Well, I don't want any today, thank you."
"You couldn't have any if you did," said the Queen with a shrug. "That's the rule: 'jam tomorrow, jam yesterday, but never jam today.'"
"It must come to 'jam today' eventually!"
"No, it cannot!" said the Queen sagely, lifting a finger to express her belief. "Jam every OTHER day. Today is not every other day, is it?"
Dreadfully confused by this point, Alice decided to change the subject.
"I'm so terribly glad that nasty Jub-Jub Bird thing has gone…" she mumbled.
"I wish I could be glad!" sighed the White Queen dismally. "I can never remember the rule, though. You must be very happy up there, being glad whenever you want."
Alice suddenly felt rather depressed.
"Actually…I'm a little lonely. No one really notices me up there. Everybody that does says I'm crazy. My father's really the only one who pays any attention to me…"
Two tears rolled down her cheek and she sniffled.
"Oh, don't cry!" tutted the Queen, pulling another, clean handkerchief out of another pocket with a pitying expression. "Consider what a good girl you are! Consider your adventures today…I'm sure you've had some! Consider the colors of the flowers! Anything! Just don't cry!"
Alice wiped her eyes with the handkerchief and smiled at the White Queen curiously.
"Do you keep from crying by considering things?" she asked.
"Of course: one cannot cry and think properly at the same time."
On this, Alice had to agree. "That's true," she conceded with a small shrug.
"Now, how about we start off by considering your age, hm? Tell me, Alice: how old are you?"
"Eight, exactly, Your Majesty."
"I don't know what 'exactually' means, but I believe you without that."
"But, Your Majesty, I said…"
"Now, Alice…would you believe me if I told you I was one hundred and five?"
"That's impossible!" laughed Alice.
Then she stopped abruptly at the Queen's bemused expression.
"Is it?" asked the Queen softly.
This conversation sounded very familiar…
"I-I'm not sure," she answered after a long while.
Mirana smiled gently and lay a hand on Alice's shoulder.
"You've much to learn, Alice," she whispered. "And learn you shall. Thanks again."
The Queen tapped the girl's shoulder, turned, and began to walk away.
"Your Majesty, wait!"
"Yes, child?"
"Do you know how I might get home again?"
The White Queen stared at Alice long and hard.
"I won't say 'if I were you,' since clearly I am not," she said at last, "But I would advise to walk that way," here she pointed off down a path (which Alice must have failed to see before), "and ask for directions. Fairfarren."
Alice raised an eyebrow.
"What does that word mean?"
The Queen smiled broadly.
"It means, 'goodbye and good luck.'"
And the Queen vanished. No cloud of smoke…no flash of light or flame…she had simply disappeared from sight.
Alice stared for a long while at the place where Mirana had stood.
Then, with a determined step in her pace, she started off down the path.