Day 6 of the AntiAlice Experiment

"One more day…" the Queen mumbled to herself, staring at the chamber,

She turns around quaintly, hands placed behind her, tentacles of scarlet silhouetted her pale face.

"Prepare her dressage," was her demand to a fuchsia flamingo, "And tell The Smith to hurry up!"

The flamingo nodded and scurried off immediately.

"Wickane!" she screamed,

"Yes, your Majesty?" he replied at her side,

"Tomorrow, at midnight, you shall take her out of…-th-that thing, give her a dosage of sleep inducer, dress her, and put her in her room, do you understand?"

The doctor, ashamedly, blushed, instinctively looking down,

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Good," she stated, starting towards the stairs,

and she left.

The doctor ran a bony, white, hand through his slick, jet, hair. He was worried. She was growing up to be so beautiful. What if he intimidated her? What if she didn't even know him? What about her heart?

Her heart;

a heart that couldn't beat by itself,

a heart that ran on clockwork, a windup in her spine.

His dear Javan's heart, was not her own.