It had been seven days since Iris' unexpected arrival in Cradle. And one early afternoon, she followed a map she'd been sent that led her to a small house just outside the Central Quarter. One that happened to belong to the White Rabbit, Blanc Lapin. It looked just like something out of Wonderland, a small and cozy looking cottage, decorated in white and blue with a lovely looking garden out front.

Iris knocked lightly on the door, the invitation she'd received the day before still held firmly in her hands. The door opened with a gentle creak, revealing Blanc on the other side with a soft smile on his lips. "Hello there, Iris!" he chirped, "I'm glad you found the place okay. I just finished getting everything ready. Welcome to the White Rabbit's Tea Party." As Iris stepped into the house, she quickly took note of the decoration. It looked like your run of the mill house interior, yet the calming colors only added to the cozy cottage feel of the exterior.

As she stared around inquisitively, Blanc walked over to the white wooden table and pulled a chair out for Iris, "Please sit here, my dear. We've been eagerly awaiting your visit." "Don't include me in your 'we', you daft old rabbit." A voice piped up. "Ah.. Oliver, correct?" Iris began, "I believe this is only the second time we've spoken, right? I erm.. I hope we can be friends." she spoke, her tone quiet. Oliver narrowed his gray gaze, a slight pout on his lips, "No thanks. The last thing I need is another idiot for a friend."

Iris only smiled and lightly shook her head in amusement, having forgotten just how sharp the boy's tongue was. He was pouring tea with such a practice air to him, but as he glanced at Iris, his eyes were colder than ice. "And stop talking down to me in that tone or you'll regret it, little girl." he hissed. Iris paused, "I sincerely apologize if I've offended you, Oliver. But- you speak as if you're older than me when you're not." "Are you so sure of that?" Oliver retorted, then added- "Also, this is the third time we've met."

A flash of confusion crossed Iris' face, "Eh? But.. We haven't met since the Red and Black Army confrontation in the plaza?" she questioned. Oliver's gaze narrowed, "Try thinking before you open your mouth. Is your head full of whipped cream?" "Of course not! Do I appear to be some cream-filled treat to you?" she retorted. Blanc let out a shameful sigh, "Oliver, that's no way to speak to a lady." Then he turned to her and smiled, "Although, Iris, I have to say that you're definitely as sweet as a cream puff." Iris stared at the white-haired man, was that supposed to be a compliment?

His smile was bright, yet she hesitated, unsure of what to say. "Perhaps, your words are much sweeter than I am, Blanc." Iris finally said. Blanc lightly shook his head, "Not at all. I'm just telling the truth, after all." "Don't get caught up in his flattery, Iris," Oliver interrupted, "or he'll eat you up just like a cream puff." The boy warned. "I don't believe I'd be a very tasty cream puff." Iris replied. "But look at those lovely emotions, fitting across your face!" Blanc pointed out, "I'd like to use a spoon and savor them, one by one."

Iris faltered, her smile disappearing as it began to feel as though the jokes and playful air was falling into uncomfortable territory. "Nonsense. Emotions aren't going to sate your hunger." Oliver retorted. "I'm sure I could live for a long time just on her smile alone." Oliver's eyes widened, "You're the very embodiment of a frivolity, indeed." Blanc let out a soft laugh, "I may well be. Either way, I'm always impressed by the abundant vocabulary you use when exercising your sharp wit." the dark-haired boy rolled his eyes, "And I'm amazed- or should I say, exasperated- by your obsession with young women's smiles."

Iris had fallen silent at this point, lightly nibbling on the sweets on her plate as she listened to them banter back and forth. She was intrigued by the way they spoke to each other, as if equals rather than an adult and child. How did they even come to live together like this, she wondered. The two of them didn't even appear to be related in the slightest. "Hold up, Iris." Iris looked up at the call of her name, noticing that Oliver had paused in his bickering with Blanc and was now looking directly at her. "Yes?" she asked.

"Are my eyes deceiving me," Oliver began, "or has your plate gone suddenly empty?" he asked. Iris tensed, she had been so distracted by her thoughts that she hadn't even realized. "I.. Erm.." she began, a sickening twist forming in her gut, "I sort of.. got distracted.." Oliver's eyes widened, "You really know how to put it away, huh? It's almost like magic." Harsh emotions welled up inside Iris, bleak memories climbing their way to the surface. Her hands clenched her skirt, gripping at the fabric as she tried to push it all away, but to no avail.

"It just means that she enjoyed the food, and that's the most important thing." Blanc commented. His smile was gentle as he served a second helping atop her plate, but she didn't touch it. That sickening twist screaming loudly in her mind to not eat anymore. But the topic was quickly changed, "Speaking of magic, it's something you wouldn't have seen while you were in London. But we use it everywhere here in Cradle. I bet that's been a surprise for you." Blanc spoke.

Iris nodded, her tone lightening up at her gratitude for the change, "Yes, it really has." she affirmed. But it seemed like Oliver wasn't ready to drop it, "Real magic doesn't make food vanish in under a second, though." "..Um." Iris muttered, her discomfort evident. Blanc frowned, "You don't need to keep harping on it, Oliver. Although you are right." Then, he continued with his previous explanation, "Magic has its uses, Iris, but it's not all-powerful. In that way, it resembles the science of your world."

Blanc poured another cup of tea for Iris, and she sipped on it in silence as she listened to his intensive talk of Cradle's magic. Blanc explained that there were Magic Crystals in Cradle, and anyone with one in their possession could perform magic. But they had their limitations, and when all their power was used up, they were then equivalent to that of decorative rocks. However, it would cost a fortune to use a vast amount of magic, limiting one's power to a certain degree.

But then, he said something that caught Iris' attention. "People can't use magic if they don't possess a Magic Crystal, with the exception of a special few." But before Iris could ask any questions, Blanc's smile fell and he continued, "All research into magic, and refinement and distribution of Magic Crystals, are handled by a civic agency called the Magic Tower. They're very strict." The Magic Tower was an immediate anomaly, considering Iris had never heard of such a thing before.

Blanc's expression seemed to tense as the words left his lips, and she stared at him in surprise. But what really surprised Iris, was the drawn look on Oliver's face. He was staring down at the tablecloth, yet there was this look of sorrow deep within his eyes. But it wasn't adding up. Iris was missing something, wasn't she? Iris folded her hands in her lap, speaking softly- "It.. It doesn't sound very pleasant." The sorrow fell from Oliver's eyes as his gaze looked up to meet hers, "Who knows? But it definitely has nothing to do with you." he asserted.

But Oliver's voice was gruffer than usual, and he suddenly stood from his chair. "Blanc's been rambling on about nothing for so long that the tea's gone cold. I'll brew a fresh pot." he grumbled as he left the room. Blanc smiled once more, "I do apologize. Let's leave that sort of discussion for another time, shall we? I mean, we're missing the point of a tea party, aren't we? I wanted to hear how things are going with you, Iris." Iris smiled awkwardly, "Um.. If you really want to listen to such nonsense, then.. I'm happy to oblige."

Blanc was back to his usual self in such a quick manner that Iris could almost convince herself that she'd imagined it. With the exception of Oliver. But she smiled at Blanc, choosing to put it away for the time being. "A week ago, you were a clumsy, panicked mess, and now you're as carefree as ever." Oliver commented as he walked back into the room, a new pot of tea in hand. "I imagine the Black Army is taking good care of you." Blanc added.

Iris' expression softened with a hint of fondness, "They really are, better than I could ever imagine being treated." she spoke, not noticing the shift in either of their behaviors at her words as she continued- "The flowers are absolutely gorgeous outside the Headquarters, I can't help but smile when I see them. It's.. It's almost hard to believe that this country is at war, you know?" It was especially difficult to believe when the days were so simple, just watering flowers with Sirius. But she chose to keep that to herself. She always felt so happy and carefree here, like the days she should've had as a child.

"So I'm going to stay with the Black Army and help them until the next full moon. I.. I really want to think I can relax and enjoy some peace while I'm here." she admitted. "Hm… Peaceful, huh?" Oliver questioned, a solemn look on his expression. "That would certainly be the best thing for you." Blanc smiled. Iris smiled back at Blanc, thinking fondly of the flowers blooming in warm sunshine and cooking in the kitchen with Sirius.

The tea party continued and conversations remained as normal everyday things as the sun shifted through the sky overhead. But as soon as Iris left to return to Black Territory, Oliver turned to Blanc with a sigh. "That girl's too easygoing. Doesn't she read the paper? What part of this country is peaceful, exactly?" Oliver grumbled, picking up a newspaper from a nearby rack and flicking through the rustling pages. "If you mean this morning's front page story, I've already read it. I'm sure most people in Cradle have by now." Blanc spoke.

"Except for that airhead, apparently." Oliver retorted. "I imagine Sirius is working carefully to make sure Iris doesn't hear about it." Blanc commented. Oliver's gaze narrowed, "The Queen of Spades, huh? Yeah, I can see him doing that." "Even so, Iris will hear about it soon enough." Blanc reassured, "So, don't you think it's a kindness? To at least let her relax and feel safe while she has tea with us." Oliver rolled his eyes, "Sounds more like a coddling to me." He shrugged and turned away, tossing the newspaper atop the table as he did.

The front page was dominated by that of a picture, one depicting a man with a cold, demanding stare. Blanc sighed, his expression pained as he stared at it.

The minute Iris stepped into Headquarters, she could immediately tell something was off. It was like the days she'd forgotten to do certain chores and she could just tell how angry her aunt was by the room's atmosphere when you stepped inside. The soldiers she passed in the corridors weren't smiling like usual, and it was proving difficult to ignore the tension within the air. "Pardon me, did something happen?" Iris asked two passing soldiers. The two seemed startled by her approach and exchanged a worried glance. That only made Iris feel more nervous. "Sirius warned us not to say anything until nightfall, but… it should be okay now, right?" one questioned.

The other shrugged, "I guess so… Besides, it's only a matter of time before you hear about it, Iris." Both shared another glance, before one of them let out a sigh, "The truth is…"

At the same time Iris was listening to what the soldiers had to say, the top three leaders of the Red Army were gathered together inside the office. "I knew we made the right choice when we picked this photograph! It really shows off your dignity, King Lancelot." Jonah remarked, staring proudly at the newspaper laid across the desk. "I agree. You have quite an eye for aesthetics, Jonah." Edgar complimented. "Of course I do. Now, we'll keep a copy to admire, and we must prepare extra to distribute, and another to store."

"There's no need for that, Jonah." Lancelot spoke, "All we need is for our army's proclamation to reach all corners of Cradle." he reminded. "My apologies, my king." Jonah spoke quickly. Lancelot's solemn tone was enough to make Jonah return the newspaper to its place on the desk. The entire front page was taken up by a photograph of Lancelot, with the army's simple proclamation: "To the Black Army, we say this- surrender to the Red Army. If you do not, we will march on you. You have seven days to decide."

Edgar let out a sigh, his usual smile falling, "If they'd fallen for our diversionary tactics the other day, the transition to full-scale war would've gone much smoother. The Black Army is more cautious than I expected." Lancelot's gaze hardened, "Indeed. But we can't allow them to waste any more time. The Black Army committed a grave crime. They are the ones who forced war upon this land." he growled. Jonah and Edgar exchanged a silent glance, both men sharing a grim expression.

The atrocious incident in question had occurred just shortly before Alice the Second had arrived within Cradle. The former King of Hearts, Lancelot's father, had been murdered. His corpse having been discarded atop the Black Bridge. The killer's identity was unknown, but all Red leaders came to the agreement that someone within the Black Army had committed the heinous crime. "You are absolutely right, my king. We have no shortage of reasons to subjugate the Black Army!" Jonah exclaimed.

"And if Alice hadn't appeared with her ability to repel magic, we would've been perfectly prepared for the invasion." the Queen of Hearts pouted. Edgar once again wore his usual oddly soft smile as he spoke- "I will prepare double the amount of our current stock of Magic Crystals before the war starts. That should be enough to allay concerns of her wiping out our magical attacks, surely." Lancelot nodded, "Yes, that will do." He sat back in his chair, his expression shifting.

"In seven days' time, this world will change completely." he mumbled. Edgar and Jonah's expressions changed to one of surprise, "King Lancelot?" They both spoke. There was a cold glint deep in his ocean blue eyes, yet neither of them had any idea of what his words actually entailed.

All the lights in the corridor had been extinguished, the air was quiet and still around Iris. Yet she still hadn't been able to catch a hold of Sirius. She had found out earlier in the evening that the Red Army had made a proclamation, and that war was just a week away. And Sirius had been clearly making arrangements, all while withholding the information from Iris. Well, he had known that Iris was going to visit Blanc that day. It was easy to assume that he hadn't told her because he wanted her to be able to relax and enjoy herself while there.

But Iris knew now that war was fast approaching and that it was unavoidable. The peace she had spent the last week enjoying was nothing but a farce fabricated by the Queen of Spades. Sirius had told her that she'd be okay, that they were there to take care of her, to take her time and she'll get used to things in Cradle. She'd believed it, every word of it. But she had also made a promise to the Black Army. She had promised Ray that if the Black Army ever needed her, she'd be there, and in exchange they would keep her safe.

Iris had been so worried when she first came to Cradle, and they had all done so much to make her feel welcome and at home. There had to be something she could do for them all in return. And it was safe to assume that Sirius would have some ideas. And that was where Iris was heading now; to his room to speak with him.

Iris hurried down the empty corridor, a nervous impatience nestling within her stomach. But just as she reached Sirius' door, something unexpected occurred. A bright light flashed throughout the corridor and Iris froze on the spot. But as it dissipated, Iris realized someone was standing in front of the door. Someone who hadn't been there a moment earlier, someone she didn't recognize. It was a man with black hair and glowing crimson eyes, a white patch covering one of them and dressed in a long beige trench coat and off-white scarf.

"Are you Alice?" the man asked.