Warning: Blood spills.
Mallory did not return that night and Nicholas Hatter had to comfort Harold. "Where did she go?" he cried and wailed. Somehow there was an immense sadness from the man who was usually so gleeful and happy. It was so severe that Nicholas couldn't even let out his own pain and troubles that stuck in his chest.
Alice had returned.
It was supposed to be magnificent, and somehow, even the sound of her voice had been enough to fill him with a nostalgia for a young woman that he hadn't even properly met this time. And along with it were some memories that played in his mind.
An uprising.
Of a brother killed by their kin.
Someone else seizing the throne—
