Mira played by herself in the garden. That was fine with her. When she was in London, the other kids didn't play with her either. She was judged by her visions of the future. Mira didn't mind. They were too dull to play with anyway.
"Feeling a bit lonely?" a familiar voice drawled.
"Chess!" Mira whipped around. "I've missed you!"
"And I you," Chessur replied. "Would you like to play a game?"
"Oh, yes!" Mira bounced on her feet. "Hide and Seek! I'm the best at that game!"
Chess's eyes dilated in pleasure. He was well acquainted with the game. Quite well, as he played it every day of his life. "I'll count then."
"Alright! But no peeking," Mira grew serious, wagging a finger before she ran off.
Chessur began to count aloud, and Mira giggled as she bounced into the rose maze. It was the start of a beautiful relationship.
The second day arrived, and Tarrant was even more worried than the day before. Alice was on the field once more, but today, two matches were to take place, and she was still tired from dragging his claymore around the first day. He had found her a lighter sword, but it wouldn't do much damage compared to the first.
The trumpets sounded, and the White Queen stood at her throne. She was dressed in
a fine cream colored frothy gown, with a rose pink cloche with a cream ribbon in a bow wrapped around it.
"Today, our Champion will duel the Duke of Spades, and this afternoon will face the Knave of Clubs. I wish all three of them a safe battle, and the best of luck." she announced in her breathless manner, and with her arms raised in their dainty way, she sat on the throne.
The Duke of Spades arrived in the arena, his battle regalia shining with gilded buttons. The display of wealth sickened Alice and Tarrant alike, as their own queen was modest and kind. But, once again, he solved the riddle, so there was nothing they could do. His face was pinched, like a pug's, and his pepper black hair had wisps of shining silver; he was old as well.
His weapon of choice was an ax, sharp and shimmering in the light, though it was worn from battle. The Spades had been quite a violent house until the queen Iracebeth of Crims took over.
Alice swallowed hard. A sword might be fast, but an ax is stronger. Tarrant knew this as well, and suddenly he wished fervently that he could take Alice's place.
The trumpets sounded again, and the Duke charged towards Alice. She only had enough time to lift her sword, blocking a deadly blow. However, her legs were vulnerable, and the Duke swept under them, knocking her to the ground. She rolled over before the ax could slice open her face. Tarrant stood in his seat, willing Alice to forfeit. He and everyone else knew the Spades always craved bloodshed.
The Duke swung again, and it locked with Alice's sword. He grinned, and to Alice's horror, he twisted the ax until it snapped the sword in two. Panic overwhelmed her, and she lashed out with the piece of blade she held, knowing that he would not stop until she was dead.
A stripe of blue blood seeped from the Duke's arm, and the White Queen stood.
"This fight has been finished. Duke of Spades, lower your weapon," Mirana ordered, but the Duke kept advancing on Alice. "I said lower your weapon!"
The ax fell to the ground, and the Duke's hands wrapped around Alice's throat. His green eyes became crazed, even more so than her beloved Tarrant's. She fell to her knees, the lack of oxygen slowly killing her.
"I will rule Underland," growled the Duke, but his menacing declaration was interrupted by White Soldiers dragging him away.
Alice fell, a curtain of golden curls covering her face, her body splayed out on the dirt- covered floor of the arena.
"Alice!" Tarrant rushed to her side, cradling her form against him and cursing himself for not being faster. "Alice, please be alive. I can't lose you." His eyes turned that awful grey that had been so familiar in the last decade. "I just had you back."
Her cold hand stroked his tear- streaked face, and Alice opened her eyes. "I am still here. You still have me. Tarrant, darling, I'm here."
He looked at her sweat covered face, taking in the bruises forming over the old ones. "That's all I can take." he stood up, carrying her limp form. "Queen of White," he called up to Mirana. "I request to take her place as Champion of Underland."