It was a perfectly glorious day indeed. The sun glanced down upon the meadow with a smile, the baby trees casting shadows upon the yellow grass in the same fashion as eyelashes upon a cheek. The trees hummed in the breeze and the flowers sang their charming tunes, the glittering leaves of fall dancing above the hill's floor in a waltz yet to be rivaled by human feet, and, once fallen, like lovers lie across the soil as if the scene need be any more picturesque. It was a true Golden Afternoon and the perfect day for a Mad Tea Party, yet Ethan had not called. Never in their whole acquaintance had Alice even fathomed that the Hatter was capable of holding any sort of a grudge, but then there she was strolling through the meadow with Mouse in her arm during the more delightful end of the afternoon and he still didn't feel like tea. The day was bright enough, the weather charming, and the only hindrance possible was the disagreement over a trifle such as her nearing coronation. At least, she believed it a trifle.
Alice commented to her adorable companion how quaint it was to now and again take a turn about the meadow, especially this time of year when everything seemed so cheerful and pleasant. Her disposition outwardly seemed to agree with this statement and be in accordance with such sentiments, and yet her mind was still troubled. After receiving what was expected as an proper response from Mouse, which is to say a small nod and the most bashful smile, Princess Heart added that if the lack of politics would permit her, she would be fully satisfied walking in circles forever about the crystal blue Pool of Tears.
At this time, I feel it my duty to inform you that the Pool of Tears was in no way a depressing sight, nor did it gain its title from any unpleasant event. Quite the contrary, it was named for the most wonderful incident that ever took place in Wonderland, or at least the legend spoke so. The tears were truly those of joy, not of sorrow or lamentation. Indeed, the tale went something like this:
A long time ago, at the birth of the monarchy, the young princess had fallen in love with a young man. She never knew if he loved her back, and supposing it wasn't proper to love a peasant boy, she kept her affections tightly chained to her heart. She never spoke a word about it to anyone. As time went by, the peasant boy seemed to grow distant from her and she feared he'd abandon her all together when he shocked her by asking for her attentions to following day, which she eagerly agreed to. That day, the peasant boy requested to see her the next day and she once more readily agreed. This continued for half a week until at last he requested for her audience for the next day, the next day, and to be with her every day of their lives, asking, in short, her hand in marriage. The girl was so overjoyed she began to cry. She couldn't stop until she had made a puddle that, mysteriously enough, never dried up. The next year another young maid was also proposed to at that very spot by the love of her life and she cried of pure rapture too. And thus, year after year, the puddle grew until it became what was now known as the Pool of Tears, which never dried up and was the perfect place for a romantic walk or a proposal for any lucky young woman's hand. And thus the legend concludes.
Unfortunately, Alice no longer believed in such happy endings. She imagined quaint endings, satisfactory conclusions, but never the happily ever after written so wonderfully about in all her fairytales. A girl reaching sixteen was not to romanticize such silly things. She had no hope of a lover proposing, and so settled on merry little walks with her dear beloved Mouse, merely enjoying her gentle company and the beauty the environment occasioned her.
And yet when she saw Hatter approaching the two confidantes, she felt a blush creep into her cheeks and her eyes cast over ever so shiftily towards the pond. Why in heavens was her heart beating quickly, her hand grasping Mouse's tightly, her overall temperature rising? As she watched his progress from across the mead, the meaning and determination that appeared in his very step occasioned her only greater anxiety. As his eyes blazed almost fiercely in her direction, Alice could feel the query in them. She ought to have known he had only come to pop a completely different question.
"Princess, Milady Mouse, good day." He made a formal bow, slightly stiff, yet going below his own status, not for the benefit of Alice but to show meekness towards Mouse. Her presence always secured everyone's humblest attitude. The green of his hazel eyes seemed to dance in the glare of the sun as they rested upon Alice with a sort of finality. His voice was something rushed, though, and his whole attitude seemed hurried and abrupt. "Alice, do you believe you could fall in love?"
"Of course I'm capable!" Her belief in fairytales began to rise.
"Then I have a proposition for you."
Mouse squeezed her hand in recognition, smiling as wildly as any person could in the thought of the happiness of a most dear and beloved friend.
"Would you do me the honour of attending my masquerade?"
Both young maidens looked taken aback for a moment. Alice soon snapped out of her shock, scolding herself severely for even dreaming that this was anything romantic. He was so much older than the princess, to be sure, and they had been no more than friends for the longest time. And in all their years, there had never been any reason to presume he had any feelings of that nature for herself. But to the simple and good hearted Mouse, however, it took a long time of staring in perplexity before she could grasp the new situation, a little more to get over her dashed hopes. She, unlike Alice, held strongly to the existence of happy endings and was sure that if anyone were to have one, it would be Hatter and Alice.
Alice smiled most civilly, inquiring patiently, "Could you inform me what attending your masquerade will do to inspire such ardent affections upon any young person?"
A bead of sweat rolled down his face. It must have been from the heat of the ending summer, not nervousness of any kind. No, his holding of his top hat and squeezing it tightly in a strangling manner looked more of anxiousness to get something done and over with than of a young man bashful in front of a lady he loved. "Everything. I would like to place a wager that by the end of the ball, you won't have fallen in love with a single man. If you do, I wish the two of you happiness and if you don't, you owe me an apology."
"So we are to have a wager over the fate of my happiness in marriage?" Alice laughed tauntingly. "But who is to say that I would not just lie about falling in love and simply wed the man whom I was had planned to for my upcoming coronation anyway?"
Ethan blinked, mystified, as if the thought had never occurred to him.
"All right, you're on. A masquerade, is it?"
"A Mad Masquerade," Mouse giggled, lowering her head into Alice's arm, as she lead her good friend and monarch away from the startled earl. As they left the charming meadow, flowers still singing as lively as ever, the two girls broke out into a fit of wild laughter, and the two began racing down the streets of Wonderland towards the looming palace. Both minds were on the preparation of the masquerade ball, but neither were conscious of what truly was to become of it all.
A Golden Afternoon.