The day began as any other morning, as typical mornings tend to do. Mirana reviewed her lists of tasks, hummed in irritation at its length, and set out to complete her chores. An audience with the court – long, tedious, drawn out. There really wasn't a word to properly describe how much she hated such a thing. So she spent its length coming up with new ones, disconcerted to find that even her normally inventive mind wasn't able to come up with anything just quite appropriate enough.
Task 55: Ask Alice to come up with long winded word to describe my boredom.
Having scratched a note in her scroll, feeling rather pleased to have come up with such a grand idea, she found herself being stared at by several sets of eyes. Which is when she realised she was grinning like a fool. "That will be all today. Dismissed," she airily waved her hand. The resultant shuffle of feet distracted Mirana from having to think on why spending time with Alice should make her smile quite so…enthusiastically.
"Your Majesty, really," Nivens tugged at his collar. "I mean, please, is it possible you could at least pretend?"
"Pretend what?"
"That you are here!"
Playing dumb, Mirana glanced around, her fingertips brushing the skirt of her dress. "Am I not here, my dear McTwisp? That certainly is a grievous notion. I wonder then, where am I? Or more importantly," her fingers fluttered to point at herself, "who is this?"
Had she known the events that would occur shortly, she may have chosen not to jest, at least not about this topic, but as the saying goes – ignorance is bliss; though in this case and many others, truly…not so much.
Pulling his ears flat with his paws, Nivens hopped up and down before announcing, "That is it. Really, that is absolutely it! I quit. And this time, I mean it. Ever since that insufferable girl came here, you have become more and more like her every day – dreamy, irresponsible and just downright…NOT THERE….Arrggghh!" Throwing the royal trumpet onto the floor, he stormed out. Well hopped out, technically. But that's far less dignified a description than the stateliness his hop conveyed.
The melodious tinkle of Mirana's laughter was interrupted by a far less elegant snort. "You shouldn't spy you know. It is…irresponsible." Mirana turned round, waggling her finger in admonition; both women bursting into another round of merriment as Alice fully emerged from within the hidden passageway which led into the throne room.
Once they both sobered a little, Alice questioned with more than a hint of anxiety, "He will come back, won't he?"
"Oh yes," Mirana's eyes twinkled both her amusement and certainty. "He quits at least every other week over something or rather. Just between you and I," she leaned in close to where Alice had come to perch on the arm of the throne and lowered her tone to a whisper, "I think Nivens considers me a little less regal than a queen should be."
Alice chuckled again. "I like you as you are. I think you are perfect." As if realising the possible implications of what she'd said, she blushed and clarified with a stammer, "A-as a q-queen, I mean."
"Of course, what else is there?"
The trickle of warmth that spread upon Alice's innocent statement could have been attributed to the heat of the girl's breath which, given their proximity, almost bathed Mirana's lips. Or perhaps a different kind of heat – the one the blonde's fetching crimson cheeks now radiated. But Mirana was not a very good liar (at least to herself), so she knew that the cause of the spreading warmth was due to neither of these things. But Alice was…Alice and Mirana was…Mirana, and also queen, so every time she glimpsed the elusive hint of what she had so desperately been yearning for her entire adult life, she reminded herself that who she was, what she was, meant that it must remain simply that…a dream.
Ignoring what appeared to be a shadow of disappointment flitting through Alice's eyes (most likely wishful thinking), Mirana continued, "Now, Alice, there's something important that I must ask you to do. Or, more precisely, ask you not to do."
Now generally when someone says that to you, it is a really good idea to pay attention; even better one to actually fulfil the person's request. But then, of course, if one is too busy comparing the speaker's eyes to pools of the thickest dark chocolate (one of the sappiest most ridiculous comparisons ever made) and wondering if their lips could possibly taste as sweet as the plums they are the colour of (okay, I take it back, that's even more ridiculous), then one might really miss the point said speaker is trying to convey.
Which is exactly what happened as Alice raptly gazed into Mirana's eyes, then watched her moving lips. Said speaker should have noticed and repeated herself but then she was far too wrapped up in trying to act completely nonchalant, so in all that feeling and the pretence of not, a very important point went astray. "So till later, Alice. Please, keep in mind what I just told you." Having finished giving what she thought was a set of clear instructions, Mirana floated out of the room towards the kitchen; leaving behind a somewhat confused, but rather uncaring of this fact, Alice.
If she had even cared even half as much as she cared for Mirana, Alice would have listened, or at very least admitted to the straying of her thoughts. Had she done so, the accident would have very likely been avoided, although to be really honest, it was not an accident at all. For truly, very few things in life just spontaneously happen, certainly not when one has been warned, and not for the first time, either. But let us proceed onward and not allow this story to degenerate into some form of a moral or a lecture, or heaven forbid – a blame game of whose fault (*cough* Alice's *cough*) it really was.