IT HAD ONLY been weeks since she had dropped into this wonderland but ever since then, Alice had been at the royal palace more times than she could count. All the winding hallways looked the same, decorated with priceless paintings, vases, and statues, the walls spotless despite the sprawling size of the palace grounds. The devil worked hard but the staff within the palace definitely worked harder in keeping the entire building sparkling and pristine.
Having arrived a little earlier than the scheduled time, Alice was led to the rose garden by a palace staff first while waiting for Spade to arrive. Dorian, Spade's personal attendant, was the one that led the way.
It had been a while since Alice had seen him last but he was still every bit as quiet and stoic as she remembered him to be. Throughout the entire trip to the rose garden, not a single word was uttered by the attendant and it made Alice squirm in discomfort. It wasn't that she minded the silence, no, but rather she had been so used to the loud chatter that often surrounded Charlie and Wyatt that the sudden quietude threw her off guard.
Signature to the rose garden, Alice could smell the scent of the flowers before they even came into view. The further she was led into the deeper parts of the rose garden, the stronger the smell became. In the heart of it, Alice was surrounded by the perfume of roses, the brilliant red and pure white petals decorating the ground by her feet. They lined the pathway that Dorian led, slowly splitting into two distinct red and white paths each.
Dorian led Alice towards the white rose pavilion on the left. Under the afternoon sun, the silver-painted thorns on the columns of the gazebo reflected the light, shimmering softly. Since it was still bright out, the dark wood didn't make the entire structure look too gloomy. In fact, Alice realized it looked much more whimsical under natural lighting than it did when she first saw it that night of the ball.
"Please wait here," Dorian instructed, gesturing to the circular table at the center of the gazebo. "His Highness will be with you shortly."
Curt as ever, once Dorian was done with his sentence, he was off.
Left alone in the garden, Alice took the time to examine her surroundings. The last time she was here, the garden was bathed in moonlight. Now, it was drenched by the golden sun. Unlike the first time she had seen the twin pavilions, there were now tables set up, one in the center of each pavilion. They were both prepared for a tea party, finished with freshly baked cakes and tea that was still steaming hot. Food was also prepared on the table for the pavilion on the right, which meant that someone would be over to make use of the area soon.
Pulling out a chair for herself, Alice brushed her skirt smooth before sitting down. Her fingers played with the soft cloth that lined the table, admiring the silver embroidery on the hems of the table cloth against the white fabric. All of the cutleries used were made of fine silver, polished until they gleamed and shone.
Alice picked one up. Her reflection gazed right back at her, almost as perfect as when she was looking at a mirror. Silently, she wondered if the forks and spoons were made of silver simply because the palace could afford it or if it was a precaution against poison. After all, the world she was in was much more different than the one she had originated from.
It was also much more dangerous.
A distant chatter drew Alice out of her thoughts. Placing the cutlery down, her head instinctively turned towards the source of the commotion. From where she sat, she couldn't even hear the bits and pieces of the conversation but the bubbly feminine laughter was enough to tell her that the topic between those two was nothing too serious. Her gaze fell upon a head of bright red hair, gleaming scarlet under the golden sun before the strands fell under the shade of the gazebo. On his right, a woman was walking alongside him. Her back was poised and straight, walking like a model on the runway. Even when she laughed, she did it daintily, hiding her smile behind the back of her hand.
Alice recognized the woman. She was one of the candidates present at Hartley's tea party a short time ago. Wyatt had also made sure to drill the names of the important members of nobility into Alice's head so that she wouldn't cause herself any trouble. With a head of jet black hair and a set of porcelain doll-like features, the lady accompanying Hartley could be none other than Rose Whitaker, the daughter of a duke.
Just like her name, she was dressed like the most romantic flower of all time. Her dress was red, the skirts billowing behind her as she walked like petals blown away by a spring breeze. It was modest where it needed to be and elegantly seductive where it should be, allowing her to retain elegance while displaying all of her finest assets. Out of all the women Alice had met at that party, she definitely had the look of a queen the most.
Hartley was in a matching outfit. He was dressed in a white suit accented by crimson red and gold, allowing the color to stand out while matching his natural hair. The two looked beautiful together, like models posing for a fashion magazine back in Alice's world. Engrossed in their chatter, they hadn't noticed Alice was sitting in the pavilion of white roses, alone. They entered the pavilion on the right, beginning their tea party. All the while, even though Hartley tried his best to make conversation, Alice noticed his lips were taut and thin.
"Pardon my tardiness," a voice said, drawing Alice's eyes away from the couple a distance away. When she turned, she was met with Spade who had just eased into his seat. He seemed apologetic enough, eyebrows furrowed with an embarrassed smile. It looked so pure and innocent compared to the smirks Alice often saw on him. "There was something urgent I had to deal with and it took much longer than I had originally anticipated."
Shaking her head, Alice waved the matter off.
"It's alright," she assured. "Work comes first."
The smile on Spade's face widened, brightening. His cheeks turned rosy to match, brilliantly adorable despite the cold label often plastered onto his name. Picking up his teacup, Spade carefully lifted the tea to his lips to drink. The tea inside was still hot, just served by a nameless and silent attendant that poured and left just as quickly as a breeze.
Placing the teacup down with a soft clink, Spade leaned back in his seat, his posture slackening.
"I'm thankful you're so considerate," he confessed. "Not a lot of people are like you, especially the so-called ladies. They're like a bunch of animals, honestly. I can never relax around them." His eyes darted as he spoke, attention drawn away from Alice to something behind and beyond her. Then, the smile on his face turned crooked, evolving into a smirk. "Oh, and look. We have the leader of the pack right there."
Alice needn't even turn to know that Spade was talking about Hartley and Rose Whitaker in the opposite pavilion. She had already seen them, after all. So instead of turning around to look, Alice sliced into her cake, shoving a heaping portion past her lips. The cream stained the corners of her mouth but she didn't care for her image. There was no need to in front of Spade. They had already explored the dumps of the civilian streets together. Whatever image they were supposed to have and put up was long shattered.
Thus, Alice could freely be her twenty-first-century-self in front of Spade all she wanted. All pretenses of living in a fairytale could be shed off.
"You make it sound so bad to be part of the squad," Alice commented after licking the cream off her lips. The faint smell of dairy lingered on her tongue, accompanied by a sour kick from the strawberries which she adored.
"I simply think it is universal," Spade replied.
He reached forward, dabbing the corner of Alice's lips with his thumb, wiping off a small dollop of cream she had missed. Without missing a beat, he placed the finger to his own lips, licking it off. The action sent Alice's face bright red, steaming hot when their gazes locked together.
"In every country and every world, those who pretend to be most proper tend to be the most improper of them all. They know every underhanded tactic, they scheme, and nothing good ever comes about them. Of course, it doesn't just apply to women. However, in Gladiolum at the very least, the ladies in the noble circle are exactly as described."
At that moment, a shiver trailed down the back of her spine, inclining her to turn and look back at the couple behind her. In the end, she gave in to the temptation and turned around to look— just to sneak a glance. Alice was met with the unreadable expression of the crown prince and the piercing gaze of the rose behind him, fully baring all her thorns.