Page 80 of Madness Becomes Her
When I land in the woods, battered and broken, my cries echo off deadfall and pattering rain.
I’m back.
I’m defeated and utterly broken, but I’m back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
MISSING RABBITS LATE TO TEA
I’m exhausted. The memory that returned to me last night was the end. I’ve wanted to know the end of my story this entire time. Hatter’s devastated face as he pushed me through the portal and sent me back home is going to haunt me for the rest of my life, and it has me wondering if I’ll ever leave Wonderland again.
Last night, I was contemplating returning home, where I belong. Now, with the complete story in my head, hovering like the ghost of doubt, I can’t fathom leaving him.
A knock at the door breaks me from my internal war, and I find a lady’s maid staring back at me when I look up.
“I’m here to dress you for tea, milady.” She curtseys as if I’m some royal who summoned her.
“I can get myself ready, but thank you.”
Her alarm has me pausing. “I’m sorry, Milady, but I’ve been expressly ordered to ready you; I can’t disobey a direct order.”
Sighing, I move to the vanity stool, looking over the alarming way my hair sticks off my head from the dreams that plagued me, keeping me from sleeping deeply.
“Do your best,” I tell her coldly, feeling entirely devoid after a restless night.
I’m so ready for Hatter’s warmth and to speak to him about the memory.
“We have lots of work ahead of us.” She lifts and drops a strand of mangled hair with a grimace. “Tea is only two hours away, so let’s see what I can do.”
I stiffen, sitting straighter. “Will Hatter and Lewis return for tea?”
“They will, Milady.”
A smile releases tension from my body, and a giddy warmth spreads through my stomach. “I have full faith in your skills,” I offer.
She giggles. “Eager to see Hatter, hm?”
She seems to realize her misstep, and her face changes. “I’m sorry, Milady. That was so bold of me. I should’ve never…”
“Oh, please. That’s hardly the worst thing anyone’s ever said to me. Yes, I’m excited to see Hatter today.”
She eases, setting to detangle my hair before she can tame it into a presentable updo.
“I’ve never seen him smile as much as he does with you,” she says in a hushed tone that implies the walls might be listening.
In Wonderland, one never knows.
“Thank you for saying so.” I beam.
She magically reverses all the tangles when the brush won’t cut through them, pins my hair into an updo with baby’s breath, and a ton of hairspray.
“It looks…” I start, turning my head and watching my reflection in the mirror.
“Presentable,” she finishes for me, and I grimace.
Dark circles are beneath my eyes from all the sleepless nights of memories returning and long training days.
“Thank you.”
