Cath was given a royal invitation to the picnic, and as the day approached, she sighed. It was the same song and dance: endure the Kings endless praise, commend the King for all he's done for the Kingdom of Hearts, look for Jest, see Jest, blush like an idiot, and never end up having the courage to break off their courtship.
Her recent thoughts had been filled with Jest, unsurprisingly. Well, more than normal, at least. Everyday she let her mind drift to that morning. His lips against her own, the surety she felt as she pressed further into his embrace. And everyday, she pinked at the thought. To kiss the court joker in her room, in the morning, alone!
Though no more trees appeared after she had awoken, she knew her dreams were even more consumed by Jest. Yellow eyes, tan skin, black clothing, brown leather gloves. She was a mess. Too focused on the thought of him than anything else. Her mother continuously reprimanded her while she underwent her studies, but Catherine hadn't cared.
"Focus!" Her mother had cried as she observed Catherine's mandolin lessons. "You'll never be able to improve if you don't focus!"
Cath had frowned. "Yes Mama, sorry Mama."
"What has your attention so locked?" Her mother had asked, annoyed.
Catherine shrugged. Oh, I don't know, a boy I kissed. A boy I'm in love with. A boy that's the court joker to my beau. But she couldn't possibly say that.
"I could only hope you're thinking of ways to encourage the King," she drawled, dabbing at her brow in an attempt to be dramatic. Catherine stayed quiet. "Though I'm beginning to think you could care less."
Catherine frowned, tight-lipped. She said nothing.
The majority of the days were like that. Even when she baked, which was quite little in the past few days due to her busy schedule, she had accidentally burnt her hand or overcooked the dough. Something she rarely did, and wouldn't have, were it not for her ever second being consumed by the thought of Jest.
The morning of, Mary Ann had helped her dress for the royal picnic. She had undoubtedly noticed the dreamy state Catherine had been in the last few days, but if she really did, there was no mention.
Arriving at the picnic grounds of the castle in her light yellow sundress, she greeted nearby nobles, earning compliments on the dance at the Turtle Days Festival and how absolutely fantastic and brave she had been against the Jabberwock. No one mentioned that tragedy that was bestowed onto the Mock Turtle, or even the part where her ankle had been horribly broken, as if she drew the Vopal sword and that was the end of the story. So was the way of the people of Hearts: ignore any problem and assume it would go away on its own. They were afraid of any sort of violence, any conflict, really.
Catherine caught glimpses of an all-black figure in the crowd every now and again, but as per usual, he was flagged by another noble eager for a laugh or an impressive magic trick.
Eventually, the King managed to find his way to Catherine. She put on a cheerful smile when he approached her, but didn't hide the audible sigh she let loose as he grabbed her hand. If he noticed, he didn't let it bother him. At all.
The stout man was wearing a new hat. Slightly dull, she noted, but had the markings that indicated it was that of Hattas design.
Cath would rather make idle conversation about his clothing rather than talk of the Kings love for her.
"Your Majesty," Catherine said as they walked in tandem, her arm tucked under his own as they, unfortunately, made their rounds together, "your hat is marvelous, I must say, where did you purchase it from?"
The King looked overjoyed by the compliment, like a young child receiving an unexpected gift. "Oh! Jest was kind enough to gift it to me. Something about being gracious for his employment," he waved his hand nonsensically. A muscle in Cath's face twitched.
"Perhaps it was from the new hat shop that I've heard so much about? I was only able to stop there briefly at the Turtle Days Festival." Catherine wasn't sure why Jest had gotten the King a hat, but she knew there must be some reason to it.
The King nodded his held solemnly. "Yes, perhaps." He looked up at Catherine and it took all her might not to stoop down to high level to see eye to eye. "Lady Pinkerton, have you perhaps brought any confections?"
Catherine thought for a moment before shaking her head, "No, I am sorry." She had been to busy fawning over Jest the past few days to have thought about bringing any sweets to the picnic. Her weekend consisted of dreading the King and his wet-lipped kisses on her knuckles and Jests confident kiss that continued to linger on her lips.
The picnic was the same as normal, same as the last. Nothing ever changed in the Kingdom of Hearts. Another boring party for snobby nobles to converse.
The questions Jest had predicted started to come.
They were simple ones at first, how she had been enjoying the festivities as of late, how her parents were, topics that were meant as a basic conversation, not for those who were courting one another. But, she supposed, basic was all the king could come up with and comprehend.
Finally, the Kings questions became more difficult to answer.
"Lady Pinkerton," the King said, "I wanted to talk to you about the future ruling of this kingdom—"
Cath stopped him before he could go on, doing her best to stray him from the topic at hand, and mainly, show she wasn't fit for the throne. Then again, neither was he. "Oh! The kingdom, I don't know how you do it!" She said obliviously, exaggerating her tone of voice. "It's such a busy place, so many state affairs, I'm sure," she continued, "I just wouldn't be able to ever rule a Kingdom! The stress of it all, not to mention it just being forced upon me, especially considering I have absolutely no experience governing."
The King blinked, taken aback by her comments. "Well, I, uh—"
"Possibly one of the duchesses have experience? Perhaps they would make satisfactory Queens once you plan to choose your betrothed. Though, of course, I am truly not sure if they're interested in governing a kingdom. I most certainly am not." Catherine agreed with herself. She hopped her voice wasn't as shrill as it sounded to her own ears.
"Well, um..."
The King looked little sickened at her outburst, as if he had been eating a bowl of porridge that didn't agree with him.
"Right," he said, a new tone of annoyance Catherine had never heard in his voice before. While she wanted him to leave her alone, she couldn't help but feel a little sting of irritating that rippled through her. He was the one that was bothered by her? Unbelievable!
After some time around the palace grounds, the two heard a faint jingle of bells and turned around. Jest was behind them. He gave a deep bow.
"Your Majesty," Jest said respectfully, "I apologize for interrupting, but Lady Pinkertons mother has asked I retrieve her, for she has need of Lady Pinkerton."
The King looked crestfallen for a moment, it was almost as if he was planning to suckle on his thumb as he sulked on. "Yes, yes. Thank you Jest. I hope to see you soon, my beau!" He said in a sing-song voice.
Catherine cringed at the nickname. "Yes... thank you, my Lord." She replied uneasily as she dropped into a curtsy. The King must've not noticed her look of embarrassment, as he bounded off happily, whistling to himself.
Cath let out a sigh. She took Jests arm as he held it out for her. She shook her head. "I'm not sure what's worse, being relieved from the King or be forced to face my mother," she huffed.
Jest gently patted her arm. "It appears to be the luckiest days for one such as yourself, Lady Pinkerton." He was leading them to an empty area in the courtyard, "As your mother has no need of you, as far as I'm aware, and did not ask me to retrieve you."
Cath cast a glance at him in disbelief. "It seems that I have been heroically saved," she mused.
"I am simply doing what my Lady requires of me." Jest said, looking forward. "You looked miserable, if I am to be honest."
"You're right, I was. Dreadful he is at making conversation."
Jest nodded in agreement.
Catherine noted that Jest had actually dared to bring them to a secluded spot.
Alone.
"I see you are so bold to have guided me here under the impression I was to see my mother," she jokes, "scandalous, the court Joker is!"
A small smile played on his lips. "I had assumed, after we had met in that cave, you may not have been so objected to the idea."
"I can assure you, Sir Joker," she said, "it is certainly welcomed." She cast an anxious yet aggravated glance towards the populated courtyard, "Though I confess neither of us are able to stay long, as unfortunate as that is."
Catherine lowered herself down on the bench and gentle folded her dress against her legs, smoothing out any wrinkles, Jest sitting down next to her after he had checked to make sure no one would be able to him them.
"Something interesting did happen during my chat with the King," Catherine spoke up as they settled down.
"Do tell," Jest said, turning his attention toward her.
Her fingers fumbled aimlessly, taking up the ribbon that was on her dress, "He was... annoyed with me. He never seems annoyed. By anyone."
"Hm? Intriguing, he seems to be just as jovial as he was this morrow."
Cath frowned. "I'm not sure... he was fine until he asked about ruling, and I started to blabber about how I would never be fit to be queen... And he just, became irritated." She cast a wistful shrug.
Jest brought his fist up to his mouth, giving a small cough. "I... may have something to do with that."
Cath looked over at him, quiet, awaiting a proper response, an explanation. Whatever it was, she certainly wasn't complaining that the King was annoyed. It gave her hope, even, that he might be so disgruntled by her, that he would break off the courtship, and Cath wouldn't have to.
"I assume you have noticed the hat, yes?"
"Yes," Cath answered. "One of Hattas work. The King said you gifted him it."
Jest nodded. "The hat was a reject, Hatta had yet to throw it away.'
Catherine started, confused. "Then why give it to the King?"
Jest didn't answer for a moment, but as realization dawned on Catherine, her mouth became an O, her brow furrowed. "So that's why he was irritated with me."
"The hat helps influence the wearer to see the things around him as lacking, uninteresting, imperfect."
"Lacking, uninteresting, imperfect," she repeated. "Perhaps I should be offended!" Cath playfully hit his arm.
"In all seriousness, this is wonderful news," Cath perked up. Perhaps with the hat, the King might tire of her. "How did you get a reject from Hatta?"
Jest looked uncomfortable. "I am unable to say I simply asked for it... more so took it..." He shrugged.
Catherine tilted her head to the side.
"It appears Hatta and I are not on the best terms at the moment."
"What happened?"
Jest looked pained for a moment as he shifted in his seat to get a better view of her before continuing, "I told Hatta you're the reason I want to stay in Hearts," he took her hand, "I don't want to take the heart of a queen, I want it to be handed over willingly. However selfish it may sound, I want your heart. Not to give to the Queen, but for myself. They can find another girl in another kingdom who is to become a queen. I don't want them to take you. You are my queen, Catherine. And Hatta does not agree with my mindset." He shook his head wearily. "I know I told you all of this at the well, but I have finally told Hatta."
Cath pursed her lips, still registering all the information.
"Jest," she said quietly, "I don't want to be the reason you hold back. To abandoned your kingdom... I don't want to do that to you."
It took a moment before Jest spoke. "Why go back to a country ravaged by war if I am unable to be happy? I've fought. I've hurt. I've regretted my actions. But at the end, no matter what I did, no matter what happened, I was always told it was for the greater good." He studied her. "Hearts is... simple. But, Cath, you're complex, Catherine. I don't want to be where you are not."
"Then take me to Chess," she said quickly, without thinking.
Jest sucked in a sharp breath. "No."
"If I were to go with, you would have the heart of a queen."
"No. Out of the question."
"Why? This way you are not leaving Chess behind. We can help save it."
"I am not taking you to Chess. It's too dangerous."
A tendon in her forehead twitched.
"I am unsure if Hatta chose to listen after our... disagreement... but I asked, the the next time he ventured, to tell the Queen he feared me dead. That our plan to steal the heart of a queen failed. And perhaps throw in that Hearts is not the kingdom we needed to venture to. To find another country with another queen..." He trailed off as he squeezed her hand.
"I want to be yours, Catherine Pinkerton, and I wish for you to be mine. Selflessness be damned. I will not let you throw your life away to a country you've never been to, that can't be helped." Jest let go of her hand, briefly, to pull of his hat and run a hand through his hair.
Catherine shook her head. It was all to much. She wanted him to stay. She didn't want to hold him back, to make him abandon his country all because she wasn't strong enough to know what turmoil he was going through. She wanted him. She was selfish—she realized, she loved him, and wanted him to stay with her, but she didn't want to ruin his life, force him to stay in a country he had only just been in.
The silence was overwhelming as Cath looked at her lap and Jest stared into the distance.
Catherine stood up slowly, feeling there was a better place and time to discuss this, as well as taking into account that they had been gone for a while, and she did not want to risk anything.
Jest still sat on the bench, hands in his lap. Catherine reached down to take his cheek in her palm, just as he had done to her those few days ago. He brought his hand up to hold the one that was against his cheek, his eyes closed, his face pained.
"Do what you deem best," Cath murmured as she brought her lips to the top of his head. Caution be damned.
She moved to leave the secluded alcove, casting one last look at Jest.
He lightly grasped her wrist as she went to move away, giving her time to leave if that's what she truly wished. They were still out of sight, hidden by bushes and other undergrowth. Jest stood up as Cath turned to face him. He gently took her hands in his, and leaned down ever so slightly as he brought his lips into her own. It was brief, implementing the idea there would be more.
"You're truly a fool," she whispered as she pulled him into an embrace, her head resting on his shoulder. There was no wrath in her voice, only joy and mirth.
"Perhaps," he said, "but you're the one who chose this fool."
