The Queen chose to be mad.
Playacting with a scepter of spades and a hat of hearts, controlled marching diamonds and cloves, trembling gardens full of red roses. The Card Queen had chosen her course of insanity, and walked it as if strolling down a lane, and now-
Now it showed in her hair, wispy tendrils blowing against the winds, with the winds,
Her eyes, lucid and probing, then flashing unnatural anger
Her mouth, high and pinched, then slack and gluttonous.
The madness was ingrained quite deep, thought the cat, even more so than those who had accidentally befallen madness.