Page 61 of Knot My Wonderland: Part Two
"You can turn around now," I said, the water coming up to my shoulders, petals floating around me like tiny boats on a silver sea.
Heart turned, his ruby eyes warm as he settled on a small stool beside the tub. "Better?"
"Heavenly," I admitted, feeling tension melt from my muscles as the enchanted water worked its magic. The patternbeneath my skin responded to the moonflowers' essence, silver and gold light pulsing with renewed vigor where it met the water's surface. "I didn't realize how exhausted I was."
"You push yourself too hard," Heart said gently, reaching out to brush a strand of wet hair from my face. His fingers left trails of golden light on my skin that the pattern eagerly absorbed. "It's one of your more endearing and frustrating qualities."
I leaned into his touch, feeling the golden bond between us pulse with warmth. "I keep thinking about all the people counting on us. On me. The weight of that responsibility..."
"Is shared," Heart finished firmly, his hand cupping my cheek. "You're not carrying this alone, Alice. The bonds aren't just about magical power—they're about sharing burdens."
Through our connection, I felt his absolute conviction in those words. The golden warmth of our bond carried not just affection but partnership—a willingness to shoulder whatever came next together rather than watching me struggle alone.
"I know that intellectually," I murmured, closing my eyes as his thumb traced gentle patterns on my cheekbone. "But emotionally...emotionally, it still feels like my responsibility," I sighed, sinking deeper into the fragrant water. "The pattern chose me specifically. Not you, not Chi, not the Tweedles or Seth. Me."
Heart's expression softened, his ruby eyes reflecting the dancing light from the moonflower petals. "The pattern chose you as its vessel, yes. But it also guided you to us—to the bonds. That wasn't a coincidence, Alice."
I considered his words as the enchanted water worked its magic, replenishing my depleted reserves. The pattern beneath my skin had settled into a steady rhythm, no longer flickering with exhaustion but pulsing with gentle, consistent waves.
"I've never been good at letting others help me," I admitted, watching silver and gold light dance across the water's surfacewhere it touched my skin. "Even before Wonderland, I always handled everything alone.”
Heart's lips curved into a knowing smile. "I've noticed. You're remarkably self-sufficient for someone so young."
"Young?" I raised an eyebrow, splashing him lightly. "You make me sound like a child."
"Compared to me, you are," he reminded me gently. "I've lived for centuries, Alice. I've watched humans come and go, seen their strengths and weaknesses play out across generations."
The water rippled around me as I shifted, moonflower petals swirling in gentle eddies. "And what's your assessment of me, then? After all your centuries of observation?"
Heart's ruby eyes darkened, his golden patterns pulsing more intensely. "That you're extraordinary. Not just because of the pattern, but because of who you are beneath it." His fingers traced the edge of my jaw, leaving trails of golden light that made my breath catch in my throat.
"What makes me extraordinary?" I whispered, the water lapping gently around me as I leaned into his touch. The moonflower petals shifted, releasing more of their essence into the steaming bath.
Heart's ruby eyes held mine, his gaze intense yet tender. "Your capacity for growth. Your willingness to face the impossible without breaking. Your ability to care deeply even when it would be easier not to." His voice dropped lower, more intimate. "Most people, when faced with what you've encountered, would either shatter or become hardened. You've done neither."
Through our golden bond, I felt the sincerity behind his words—not flattery, but genuine observation born from centuries of watching humanity. The pattern beneath my skinresponded to his assessment with warm pulses, as if confirming his perspective.
"I don't feel extraordinary," I confessed, watching silver and gold light dance across the water's surface, "I feel scared most of the time. Overwhelmed. Like I'm pretending to be someone I'm not."
Heart's hand cupped my face more firmly, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. "Fear doesn't negate courage, Alice. It defines it. Anyone can be brave when they're not afraid—true courage is acting despite thefear."
The golden bond between us flared with his conviction, carrying emotions that made my chest tighten with recognition. Through our connection, I felt his own fears—not of facing his mother, but of losing me to either the Queen's corruption or my own self-doubt.
"You're afraid too," I realized, the words escaping before I could stop them.
Heart's expression flickered, his golden patterns dimming slightly. "Terrified," he admitted quietly. "Not of the battle to come, but of watching you sacrifice yourself because you think you're not enough. I am afraid of what my mother can do. I am afraid of becoming like her.”
I reached up from the water, my wet hand finding his silver and gold light intertwining with his golden patterns where our skin touched. "You could never be like her," I said with absolute certainty. "The very fact that you fear it proves how different you are."
Heart's ruby eyes held mine, vulnerability showing through his usual confident exterior. "The capacity for corruption exists in all of us, Alice. The Queen wasn't always what she is now. Her isolation, her obsession with control—it happened gradually."
"But you're not isolated," I reminded him, squeezing his hand. "You have bonds. Connections. Me." The last word came out softer than I intended, carrying weight I hadn't planned.
Something shifted in Heart's expression, his golden patterns brightening. Through our bond, I felt a surge of emotion so powerful it made my breath catch—hope, protection, and something deeper that made the pattern beneath my skin respond with eager pulses of silver and gold light.
"Yes," he whispered, his voice rough with feeling. "I have you." The moment hung between us, charged with possibilities. Through our strengthened bond, I felt the depth of what he wasn't saying aloud—not just affection or desire, but something approaching reverence. The golden warmth flowing between us carried echoes of ancient magic, of connections that transcended ordinary understanding.
"The water's getting cold," I said finally, though it wasn't—the enchanted bath maintained its perfect temperature, moonflower petals still glowing with gentle iridescence.
