Chapter Seventeen

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Ace crouched down, examining the remains of the oak tree. His men were elsewhere in the Forest, searching for the fugitives. He had given them their orders and then proceeded to make his way here. If questioned, he would have said he was searching for clues as to the rebels' whereabouts. But if he were being honest, he was desperate to know more about this girl who consumed his thoughts.

Where had she come from?

Why had she become a thief?

How had she produced a sword—no, the Vorpal Sword—from a purse?

Was she royalty?

Was she the next Queen of Hearts?

These questions plagued his mind, and he would do nearly anything to discover the answers. Rising to his feet, he made his way down the stairs and into the interior of the oak tree house.

He found himself inside a kitchen. It was all in chaos, probably from when Alice had grown taller than the trees after eating the Queen's tart. But as he surveyed the scene, he realized it wasn't likely that the room had been all that orderly to begin with. Mr. Ferret predictably liked to stow away his "treasures" wherever it fancied him. Cabinets were stuffed with socks and candlesticks, drawers were overflowing with pins and needles, and every shelf was stacked with various trinkets. There was also a plate of marinated mice on the counter, which were beginning to smell rancid.

Further inspection revealed evidence of Alice. Tacked on the walls were a number of crudely drawn and painted pictures, clearly done by a child. They were mostly of Mr. Ferret, although a few included a young girl with blonde hair. They depicted the two returning from capers with mountains of treasure. The pure childish innocence revealed in them caused a soft smile to tug at Ace's lips.

There were also notes strewn about the room, apparently from an older Alice than the one who had produced the artwork.

It's cold out! Don't forget your scarf!

We're out of eggs. Don't steal them from the dodo next door, she's getting suspicious.

A new sock for you!

Each note was signed with a small heart and an A. The words written, though short and sometimes bossy, were filled with warmth and affection. Alice had obviously grown into a young woman who prefered to care for others rather than be cared for herself. How fortunate Mr. Ferret had been to have her in his life. There was a heavy sadness in Ace's heart as he realized how much Alice had lost.

Stooping down, he picked up a blue hair ribbon. Mr. Ferret had never seemed the type to don hair accessories, so he assumed it had belonged to Alice. Seating himself at the kitchen table, he fiddled with it while trying to decide what to do.

She had the Vorpal Sword.

She was with Hatta, a madman who made it no secret that he despised the Queen.

They had fled into the Forest rather than attempt to escape into Chess or somewhere further away from the Castle.

She had the Vorpal Sword.

Was Alice really going to try to overthrow the Queen?

And if she succeeded, what sort of a queen would she be? Would she be devious and deceitful? Would she be hateful and heartless? Would she be mad?

As he considered these questions, his eyes strayed from the ribbon and over to a strawberry cake in the middle of the kitchen table. There was writing on top of it, and while several pieces were missing, Ace was still able to discern the message:

I love you BERRY much!

It was signed with the same heart and A he had seen on the notes. He could not stifle a laugh as it became very clear to him what kind of a queen Alice would make. She would always be a witty, curious girl before she was a monarch.

A sweet, playful, caring young woman.

With blue eyes that could make his heart skip in a single glance.

And now Ace knew what he would do.

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