Chapter 2: Common Ground
[E]very saint has a past and every sinner has a future.
~Oscar Wilde
The next day, Alice told the story of her adventures during her absence from Underland while courtiers gathered about her and Mirana in the queen's favorite sitting room. All enjoyed a constant refreshing of treats and tea, with Tarrant repeatedly bringing Alice fresh cups of Earl Grey—which she didn't seem to realize, so involved was she in the telling of her tale—and gazing at her as though she were Yule itself.
"I spent the better part of the year in China," Alice explained. "It is a glorious place, and so unlike England, and I loved traveling about and meeting traders and townspeople and learning what I could of the language.
"But there are practices in the shipping trade that I cannot condone—the selling of opium to the Chinese, in particular—and eventually I came to realize that while I loved the adventure, trade is not where my heart lies, and where I really wanted to be after a while was home. And this—this is home."
At this, Mirana smiled and took Alice's hand and squeezed it.
"What have you told your family?" one of the courtiers asked.
"That's the difficult part," Alice said with a frown. "For now, they, and Lord Ascot as well, know only that I've gone off on another adventure. Should I decide to stay here—" glances ricocheted about the room at this—" I suppose I will need to make a visit home to tell them. Or send a letter. I don't know quite what I will say, however, without them thinking I have gone completely off my head."
She brightened for a moment. "But Lord Ascot practically knows. I told him a bit of my adventures down the rabbit hole, and of the people I met there, and he encouraged me to return and further my friendships with all of you." Tarrant looked especially pleased to hear this.
The afternoon provided a lovely distraction for Casiphia, and dinner was was a festive affair with special dishes of all sorts. Afterwards the queen and her ladies found themselves regaling Alice with tales of court life, as they gathered in one of the less formal sitting rooms. At one point Mirana removed her crown and placed it on Alice's blonde head, where it immediately slid off. Much merriment ensued as the ladies-in-waiting passed the crown from one to the other, trying it on and laughing as it refused to stay on any head but Mirana's.
But afterwards, Casiphia was saddened more than she would have expected by the absence of her usual companion. Folding herself into a wing-back chair by a window that overlooked the terrace that ran alongside their quarters, she opened a detective novel and did her best to lose herself in its complicated plot.
Before long a tendril of gray mist meandered through the window, resolving itself into a striped form with luminous blue-green eyes. The Cheshire Cat drifted over Casiphia's shoulder to see what she was doing, there to find her ostensibly reading, but more accurately staring out the window at the dark distance.
"Pining away for your man?" came the silky inquiry, underlain with his usual insinuating purr.
Casiphia didn't look up, but lifted the book as if she were preparing to throw it at Chessur. Then she stopped herself and heaved a sigh.
"I would argue the point, but that is precisely what I am doing and there is no sense in pretending otherwise. I am not accustomed to missing someone so much."
"Then let me distract you," Chess offered. "I can't leave you here to languish long after midnight, can I?"
He offered his neck for a scratch and shared a few bits of gossip he had recently gleaned from his wanderings about Underland until Casiphia's eyes began to droop. When at last she fell asleep, curled against the arm of the chair, he stretched out along its back and slept there with her, rumbling quietly in his throat as he slumbered.
The next day began with the entire court at breakfast, along with many of Alice's friends from her last foray into Underland. Tarrant Hightopp, Mallymkum, the Tweedles (shoving each other discreetly as they argued about crumpets versus toast), and Chessur took turns asking Alice about her travels, which she valiantly tried to answer in order.
Casiphia did her best to eat breakfast, grateful to be seated next to her friend Rosalba on one side, making the seat at her left less painful in its emptiness.
"Really, this is quite exciting," Rosalba said. "I expect there to be a splendid party before long. And maybe Alice really will stay this time."
"If only my end of things were slightly less complicated." Casiphia regarded a scone morosely.
"It will all be fine," Rosalba reassured her. "Just wait and see."
Afterwards, as Casiphia was leaving the dining hall, she felt a hand at her elbow and looked down to see Alice.
"Would you mind if I asked you some questions?" Alice said.
"Not at all," Casiphia replied, "As I've been expecting that you would have some. Come, let's walk in the gardens while we talk."
The two made their way through the white marble corridors and outside to one of the formal gardens adjacent to the castle. New blossoms and young grass burst forth exuberantly, massing in bright counterpoint to the white marble walls.
"I'm doing my best to be polite," Alice said, "so forgive me if I overstep. But what on earth led you to request that Mirana pardon Iracebeth and Ilosovic Stayne?"
"Ah, Mirana has told you something of our story, I see. Well, I formally requested they be pardoned because it was the right thing to do," Casiphia said. "Ilosovic and I had become acquainted a short time before, and I believed that their exile was neither just nor merciful, not given the entire story, which Mirana knew full well. If we are not merciful, we are not living up to our mission here to care for others, are we?"
She bent and plucked a bright pink buttercup, which she began to peel apart. "Of course my mercy does stop short of the point where someone tries to kill me or my loved ones," she added acerbically.
"What on earth?" Alice said. "Who tried to kill you?"
"My former fiance. Rather, he found some enemies of Ilosovic's, which I suppose wasn't so hard to do, admittedly, and encouraged them to attack us as we were traveling back to Marmoreal from my parents' house. Luckily Oran had first gone to my father with this idea, and after Papa met Ilosovic and decided he was a respectable match for me after all, he sent me home with a Derringer."
"Oh!" Alice's eyes widened. "You're the lady-in-waiting with the gun!"
Casiphia scattered the buttercup's sundered petals over the grass ahead of her. "My goodness, you have gotten quite the taste of court gossip in a short period of time. Although I must say I prefer my current reputation to that of being the lady-in-waiting who threw over the man she was to marry, as it was for many years before this."
Alice turned to her. "Did you know? I too refused to marry the man my family had chosen for me—I simply couldn't imagine spending the rest of my life with Hamish Ascot, and in such an, er, intimate fashion, even though I've known him for years."
"I do hope he didn't try to have you and your new consort killed out of jealousy and old bitterness," Casiphia said.
"It's awfully hard to imagine Hamish doing such a thing. Although you must have felt the same way about Oran."
"I should have realized he was reaching that stage when it got back to me that he was publicly saying unpleasant things about Ilosovic and me. Such as how he wanted to call us Beauty and the Beast, but he wasn't sure which of us was the Beauty. Oh, and calling us Reckless and Ruthless, which was quite uncharacteristically clever of him, I thought."
"Did you expect him to be so jealous?"
"Neither so jealous nor so creative. A certain blandness and indifference had always been his defining characteristic. Although I think the real insult was to his pride, and that was the real spur to his plans of vengeance."
"Your parents supported your initial decision?"
"Not at first, but they came to realize quickly that there were good reasons I did not care to ally my life with that young man's, reasons they understood. And how right I turned out to be," she sighed.
"You still carry the gun," Alice said.
"That incident made me realize how many enemies Ilosovic and I might have, and for how many different reasons. I would rather feel safe than worry constantly about attacks, and besides, Henrietta and I have become quite good companions."
"Henrietta? That would be—"
"Yes, that would be the gun," Casiphia broke in with a laugh. "She was my mother's—a story I shall have to tell you someday—but I don't believe she ever named the poor thing." She hitched up her skirt to show Alice the small Derringer in its white leather holster around her thigh. "Ilosovic will be disappointed he missed me showing her off, he always seems to enjoy that."
"It must be dreadfully hard to live always being prepared for someone to attack."
"After ten years of being essentially under siege, you would be surprised at what you are able to accept," Casiphia said. "I won't deny that it's all played merry havoc with my peace of mind; I still have nightmares and I'm likely to jump out of my skin at a sudden noise. On the positive side, I used to have trouble with Chessur and Thackery and even Ilosovic jumping out of nowhere to surprise me, but there was much less of that once I began shrieking and casting about for whatever I could find to defend myself."
"I would imagine so," Alice said, amused despite herself.
"And now you know my story, or at least the relevant parts. I could tell you about growing up in the old castle, but Rosalba or Elgin or any of the other courtiers could do the same. Oh, if you were wondering, yes, all the courtiers have names that mean some aspect of 'white.' Courtier is a hereditary position, and that was themselves fashion among our parents during the span of time when we were born. Can you imagine?"
"I'm still curious about you and the Knave," Alice said. "Does it not bother you, the terrible things you know he's done?"
Casiphia paused and looked at Alice somberly. "Haven't we all done things that were less than noble, for reasons that seemed proper at the time, that we regretted for years afterwards? He has been nothing but honorable towards me and mine, and he has done me many a good turn while asking for nothing."
"I suppose," Alice said slowly. "But I fear it will take me a while to look at that man without anger and ill will. He was horrible to me and he lied and he made my predicament in Saluzen Grum so much worse than it needed to be. I respect that you and Mirana have come to see him differently, and I don't want to disregard your judgment. But please forgive me if I can't accept him the way you have come to."
"Dear, I understand," Casiphia said. "I know your experiences with Ilosovic have been limited and not of the most favorable kind. I do ask you to try to understand him, but I accept that you cannot control the amount of time that may take. Perhaps one day the two of you can talk about all that transpired during that time."
"Possibly," said Alice. "But I am not going to add that to my calendar any time soon. I'm agreeable enough to spending time with you, and maybe that will help, but I will not make any promises."
"I can ask no more than that," Casiphia said gravely. "But I do ask you to remember that you like to believe impossible things, and perhaps this is one of them."
Casiphia was expecting to sleep yet another night in her wing-back chair, which wasn't so uncomfortable, really, even if she did end up with an insistent crick in her neck after doing so. Chessur didn't make an appearance that night, so it was longer before she was able to let her embroidery hoop fall into her lap (knowing that she was working on the white silk cravat as a gift for Ilosovic made her feel as though he were a bit closer) and drift into sleep.
And thus she hadn't been asleep long and roused quickly when she felt the hand at the back of her head, another in her hair, and the kiss on her lips.
"You're back!" she exclaimed, startled, dropping her voice quickly as she realized it was still deep night. "I thought you might be gone for days yet."
"I was prepared for that, but business matters are well in hand at Saluzen Grum, and I saw no point on putting off my return any longer," Stayne explained. "Yes, I will have to deal with the awkwardness of Alice's return sooner, but being back in your arms seemed a fair trade."
To underscore his point, he ran a line of kisses from her ear to her collarbone, and then to her shoulder as he unbuttoned her nightdress and began to push it aside. Casiphia helped to slide it out of the way, sighing deeply as Ilosovic's tongue flicked its way down her sternum, and then gasping as he nipped delicately at each pink nipple. Thrusting both hands into the silk of his hair, she gently but firmly held his head to her chest.
Finally she released him. "Your turn," she said, reaching down to tug at one of his boots.
"My dear, I don't think we have time for that," he said, unbuttoning his trousers to let his phallus spring free. Casiphia bit back a smile, seeing that he must have been uncomfortable indeed before that release.
The next thing she knew, she was on her back on the silken rug next to the window, her nightdress abandoned on the floor and her lover atop her with his shirt and trousers half-unbuttoned, doing her best to aid his entry despite the inconvenience of loose clothing. She laughed as he succeeded, and rather than respond with one of his customary acerbic comments, he groaned deeply and bit hard at the side of her neck.
Nothing filled her mind then, or his, except the need to be as close as they possibly could, and the surge they rode till their waves peaked near-simultaneously and they sank into each other's arms, warm and damp and utterly satisfied now that they were together again.
"Bed," Casiphia finally murmured sleepily. "It's not far. We should go there."
"Agreed," Ilosovic said. He got to his feet, threw off the clothing that still encumbered him and peeled off his eyepatch, then led his lover to the bed with him, there to sink into the down pillows and mattress and hold each other tight till morning.
Spring sunlight dappling their faces, through the bed curtains they had neglected to draw the night before, wakening the lovers. They gazed raptly at each other for a long moment, aware as always of the chance that had brought them together in the first place, and the fortune that allowed them still to be together.
Casiphia ran her forefinger along Stayne's lips, pausing with a catch of her breath when he caught it between his teeth for a moment, then slowly traced the scars that marked the left side of his face.
"Can you feel that?" she asked softly.
"Somewhat," he said. "I've noticed feeling coming back into the scars slowly over the last few years. Usually when I'm shaving, naturally."
A memory rose unbidden to his mind of a chill day atop a craggy mountain peak, the Jabberwock lunging at his face, the sudden, searing, indescribable pain and blood gushing through his fingers as he clasped his hands to his face, the fear that none of his guards would brave the creature to get him down from the precipice and to safety—although that fear, at least, was unfounded.
He chased that memory away, not so hard to do as Casiphia moved her touch to his ear and just below it, moving her fingertips down his neck.
"Ah, my dear. Perhaps I should go away more often," he said.
"Perhaps you should never have a thought like that again," was Casiphia's acidic response.