The sun set in colors of fire, hues of blood. "Why can't I be beautiful... like a rose... they are so perfect... I'm..." Iracabeth began to cry and fumble with the white flower, the thorns tearing her skin, and the blood running down the stem. It began to turn scarlet, and she rubbed it between her palms to feel more pain.
"What are you doing?" came a familiar voice and Iracabeth closed her eyes as not to see the young blonde in the pale blue dress.
"Hello Um..." was all she could muster. Alice sat beside her and took the flower from her and looked at her hands.
"Come, back to the palace we go. You can't just sit here and feel sorry for yourself, now can you?" she tried to help her stand, then the smell of the blood on the ground stabbed her. Iracabeth pushed herself into the corner, and brought her knees to her chest as much as she could. "Mirana!" Alice called, not completely sure of the situation.
"What is it Alice?" mirana strode in and saw her sister on the ground. "Oh no... Alice go get Tarrant, now."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Alice came back minutes later with him, and he sat beside his wife, then started to pick her up.
"No, please don't bother-"
"Don't be like that Iracabeth." Tarrant broke off her speech. "We all love you, and even if I were the only one, I am sure that I could at least count, even if I counted as one and I was the all-"
"Hatter!" Alice interjected. "One does not... ramble... at a time like this." He lookied dreadfully confused.
"Ramble? I have never been know to do such an atrocity. Silly girls, making silly accusations..." he chuckled and carried his crying wife off to her room, where only horror ensued.