I'm still not trying to post horribly long chapters because I'm still unsure if I want to continue...

Chapter 1 – The Fiancé

"Alice? Have you packed all your things?"

My eyes jolted open and I jumped away from the mirror, my face heating as I looked down at my lace covered hands. "Yes. I apologize; I was just, uh, remembering this place. As it once was," I stuttered. I looked up and surveyed the nearly empty room. Is this all I have to show for my life I thought. A few possessions packed into trunks, a bed and a mirror.

"Well then come on! This is not the appropriate time for remembering what once was; we cannot be late to meet your soon to be fiancé!" The housekeeper picked up my bags and proceeded to try and hustle me out of the room. I turned her head, hoping to give a parting glance to the mirror when I saw something flash across the surface. Not across…within.

"Wait –"

"We do not have time Miss Alice! Your mother is waiting, your soon-to-be fiancé is waiting, and you can't expect time to wait on you too!"

I would never see the mirror again.

XXX

"Oh Alice darling what are you wearing," mother sighed as she watched me climb into the carriage, trying to be the most un-lady like creature ever.

I rolled her eyes. "Clothes, mother. I heard they're what all the royal ladies are wearing these days." I felt a sharp smack on the leg. "Ouch! What ever was that for!?"

Mother withdrew the fan back to her lap, a satisfied look in her eyes. "Please refrain from being smart with me or this will be an excruciatingly long ride. Pants, boots and a blouse are not the proper attire for meeting your fiancé, Alice. And what ever have you done to your hair to make it so wild and unruly looking."

I held up my hands to reveal the dainty lace gloves that adorned them, wiggling my fingers. I wouldn't even try to challenge the unruly hair comment. "At least I'm wearing the gloves you gave me." I quickly evaded another slash of mother's fan. "I don't even know him! Why should I dress up for him?"

Mother opened the fan and daintily began fanning herself. "I am sick, Alice. My dying wish is to see you get married and you will do anything to prevent that from happening."

I inwardly groaned. My mother had been "dying" for many, many years now. If she was truly sick it was only due to the stressed she caused herself obsessively trying to find her seventeen-year-old daughter a suitable husband. Or simply a suitor for that matter. She had exhausted all of her resources to find someone to take me away; it was well known that I was not quite housewife material and that only fueled my mother's search. Finally she found a man who would accept me, though he was an entire day's journey away and had never seen or spoken directly with me, only my mother. Who knows how she had embellished my demeanor.

We sat in silence for a few minutes and with the lull in conversation I turned my attention to the landscape outside the carriage window. I watched blades of cartoonish-ly green grass saunter by the carriage window and flowers shake their heads in pity for me. A white rabbet jumped by and pulled a pocket watch from behind his back, tapping it lightly. I felt myself sprouting wings; they agonizingly pushed through the skin on my back, ripping through my blouse and blossoming right before my mother's eyes. She shrieked and I burst through the carriage door like a wild animal trapped for too long. My wings spread open and stretched, feeling the sunlight warm them as they rustled. I shivered in delight. I leapt from the –

"Alice?"

I jolted in my seat and looked wildly at mother. "Hmm?"

She looked back at me, brow furrowed in mild concern. "You were screeching like some sort of maniac. Are you feeling alright?"

I shook my head, trying to clear the feeling of daze that still lingered through my thoughts. "Yes, I was just dreaming, I guess…the rabbit was there again."

My mother muttered something to herself that sounded like a reminder to have me psychologically evaluated again and shut her eyes to try and shut me out. I hardly blamed her. We left each other to our own thoughts for the remainder of the day's journey.

We arrived well past dinnertime and closer to midnight than my mother would have liked. Nonetheless she began to perk up like the model mother she was and sternly told me to do the same. At some point during our journey she had come to the realization that there was nothing to do about my clothing and that maybe a chipper attitude could persuade my new family to overlook my less than feminine appearance. I sat up in my seat and folded my hands in my lap. They began to sweat. The walls of the carriage closed in and no longer did the gloves feel feminine and dainty. The lace itched and I longed to remove them. In order to distract my mind I tried to make out the house in the distance. As we approached I realized it wasn't just a house. It was a mansion.

"What in the bloody –" I choked out, giving mother frantic looks as the carriage came to a stop.

"Manners, Alice." Another stern look.

The windows were dimly lit on the lower floor and the door opened to reveal black shadows of people. I shuddered as a chill swept through my bones. I had the most uncomfortable feeling. The carriage door opened, shattering what little illusion of personal space I had left from these people. My mother stepped out first and I after her. I still couldn't see more than the silhouette of four people in front of me but my discomfort grew. I shrank back to the carriage, the last shred of home that I had, as much as I could without being completely obvious.

"Welcome home, Miss Alice."