Another day, another series of executions. Aces, Catherine could not fathom how people in Hearts could not grasp that any and all crimes were punishable by decapitation. It was the bane of her existence at times. All she wanted was for this horrid day to end.

Raven chopped off another head, and Catherine had lost count of the people he'd killed today. Then again, he was only the weapon. She was the real killer, and all of Hearts knew it.

So they should have known that it was a bad day to make her angry.

Five years since the first time Catherine had witnessed the liberation of someone's body from their head. But that day was different. That day, she was the savior. She was the hero, leaving her happy ending behind to save a girl who'd betrayed her. That day, she was supposed to save her friend, get back to the doorway, and go to live in Chess with-

He'd been innocent of any crime. He hadn't stolen her from the king. She'd gone with him willingly. Pardon her for wanting more than a spineless, pudgy man with a ridiculous mustache.

She'd loved him once, and he returned the feeling. Catherine tried to blame her friend once, which had worked for a while. She'd blamed her parents, the king, the guards of Hearts, and even that wretched excuse for a hatmaker - Hatta.

But every time she blamed them, a lingering feeling of doubt remained. About a year ago, she'd realized why it was there. It wasn't completely any of their faults. What had happened had only one cause.

Catherine's kindness.

She'd gone back to save her friend through sympathy. She'd accepted Hatta as a friend through good will and faith. She's listened to her parents out of love for them. She'd obeyed and listened to the king because she was too gentle to discourage his advances. Everything that destroyed her happiness could be traced back to her kindness towards those who hadn't earned it.

The only person who'd deserved her love was him. And now, she would never have the chance to give it to him. To give him the life they should have had together. In Chess, in a land of peace after the war.

So, to honor his death, she vowed to never show a morsel of kindness to anyone, ever again.

The spectators were all solemn and quiet, per usual. The king sat next to Catherine in his pathetic little throne, waiting for this to be over. Finally, Catherine and her husband had something in common.

A few more criminals were brought to the stands, and Catherine gave them all the same sentence. "Off with their head," she would declare, more monotone every time she said it.

Nothing could cool Catherine's blustering tempter, and certainly not the court case that was next for her to give a sentence to.

"Your Majesty," the Harold announced. "There has been a ... delivery to the palace recently. We were not certain of how to approach you with this, but it came to the steps of the palace two days ago." The Frog-faced harold gulped. Unsure of what to do next. He shakingly waved one of the servants over.

The Young tadpole of a servant must have been the harold's son. How dull, Catherine thought. The young thing held a black box in both his arms. He too, was trembling as he brought the box forward. Catherine felt that whatever was in the box must not have been sunshine and roses. Else she would have been told about the delivery two days ago.

Of course, Catherine was partially wrong about the contents of the box. An item that would make her anger erupt into a fiery volcano of fury.

The young servant reached into the box and retrieved a small, white rose. Catherine saw it from her throne, and the entire court of witnesses froze. No one spoke, for everyone knew of the Queen's hatred of White roses.

Her nails dug into the arms of her throne. Raven eyed the rose with a nasty glare, ready to chop off the head of the young servant. Raven was the only person Catherine could stand who truly knew of her heartbreak and agony.

He knew that she wanted the person who brought the rose to her kingdom dead.

Her lips quivered with rage, and her eyes burned bright red. The king cowered away from his wife, knowing she was about to snap.

"WHO DARES TO DEFY ME AND BRING THIS MONSTROSITY INTO MY KINGDOM?!" Catherine bellowed. She launched up from her throne and held her heart scepter like a bat, beating it into her hand with a constant beat.

"IS THIS SOME FORM OF CRUEL JOKE?!" she demanded. "WHO DID THIS?!"

No one answered her. Every last citizen of Hearts in the chamber was petrified with terror as Catherine held her scepter, and Raven gripped his double bladed ax. Both of them were ready to kill anyone who spoke next. Anyone who insinuated that they had anything to do with this crime.

"Catherine Pinkerton," someone said. In the midst of the silence, their voice rang out like a sharp bark. All eyes flew to a figure clad in similar dress to Raven.

A hooded figure in all black stood in the crowd, making their presence known to all. What it told Catherine and Raven was that this person knew who delivered the rose to the steps of the palace. Or that they were the person in question.

The cloaked figure moved through the crowd, closer and closer to the center of the courtroom. Catherine seethed with anger. The only thing that was keeping her back from tearing the villain to shreds was the box her throne and herself were in.

As the figure reached the center of the room, to be viewed by everyone, Catherine growled, "Who. Are. You."

The figure did not reveal their face. They stood with their face and body concealed by their black cloak. Catherine did not care for this, as she liked to see the fear and nerves in the people she had beheaded.

"I request a private audience with you, Lady Pinkerton," the figure said. Rather audacious if you ask anyone on the side of the Queen. Or anyone in Hearts. Most of the court thought the figure would be the next to lose their head. The rest, they wondered if their Queen would kill them before Raven did.

Catherine's grip on her scepter turned white and deadly. If it hadn't been forged from metal, it would have snapped in half by now. "Again, who are you? And why in Hearts would I allow such a thing?"

The figure did not say another word. They moved their arm under their cloak and threw a black object, allowing it to slide across the floor.

With a familiar jingle, the object came to a stop a few feet before Catherine's throne. The mere sight of it brought her back to a pumpkin farm, with a beheaded beast not far from her. Her cheeks soaked in her tears, as well as her dress had been in blood.

It was his hat. His three-cornered jester's hat. The silver bells still rang with the same sweet sound she used to look forward to at all functions the King held.

It was Jest's hat. As if the rose hadn't been punishment enough.

Rather than crumble into a pile of despair, Catherine thought to motion for Raven to cut off this monster's head. A quick point to her neck, and Raven would have his ax over his shoulder.

Still, Catherine was curious. Disgusted and infuriated, but curious all the same. Only three people knew where Jest was buried. And from the way Raven was eyeing the figure, he hadn't told this person. Catherine was certain she'd never revealed the location to anyone. Not to mention, Hatta was far too insane to remember anything these days.

"Where did you get that?" Catherine questioned through clenched teeth.

The figure walked closer, making Raven tense. Catherine was not intimidated in the slightest.

The sides of figure's cloak fell back, revealing a strong build, black metal plates of armour in random places like the chest area and one leg or arm, and a black sword. Everything with this person was black so far. In exception to their face, which neither Catherine nor Raven could see.

With a flick of their wrist, the white rose was now in their hand. The young servant was as baffled as the rest of the crowd. "I had to get this rose from somewhere, Lady Pinkerton."

Rather than answer the first question Catherine had put towards them, the figure repeated, "I request a private audience with you, Lady Pinkerton." Except, this time, they added, "To discuss a matter concerning these objects ... and the person who owned them."

At that, Catherine had reached her end. While she desperately yearned to decapitate this person, she needed to know why they'd gone to Jest's grave. Then, upon knowing what had happened, she could have them killed in a far more public setting.

"You are all dismissed," Catherine announced. All the citizens of Hearts seemed far too eager to leave. They shot up from their seats and scuttled to the doors, letting themselves out of the palace. The servants and guards did the same.

Catherine glanced to her husband. A pudgy coward who was far too weak to object to anything she did. "I said, you are dismissed." With that, the King of Hearts hopped off his throne and zipped out of the courtroom.

Once she knew they were alone, Catherine looked back to the figure. She noticed that Raven was still with them, but she thought he should stay. In the event that this person was an assassin, Catherine preferred to have her most trusted guard to protect her.

"Where did you procure those items from?" Catherine inquired. Raven, too, was curious about this person. He wanted to know the same answers Catherine was asking for. She knew this, because Raven hadn't killed them yet.

Without showing their face, they answered, "I am from Chess, and I have a proposition for you."

"That's not what I asked you," Catherine said. This person had a knack for giving explanations that were not related to the inquiries put to them. "Who are you?"

"I have been sent by the White Queen to retrieve the Resilient heart of the Queen of Hearts. The first group assigned to that mission failed."

The mention of Jest's mission left a knot in her throat. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"The Red Queen knows," they said. For the first time in their conversation, the figure had given a straight answer. "She believes your heart is still in the Treacle Well with the sisters. But ... as of today, she is wrong."

If Hatta had been here, he would have said something along the lines of, "Has anyone ever told you that you are more cryptic than a crocodile?" Of course, he wasn't here, and Catherine was not stooping to his level.

Though, at the mention of her heart, Catherine was a tad concerned. "Where is my heart, then?"

From under their cloak, the figure revealed a mass of red in the shape of a heart. The wretched thing had a black fissure that separated the top halves. Just looking at the infernal organ drew a tear from Catherine's eye.

"How did you get that," Catherine asked. First Jest's rose and hat, now this. How did this person have some many lost items? Maybe they had Catherine's happiness, or Hatta's sanity, or even Mary Ann's integrity.

"The same way I got what I will give you if you put your heart back in your chest," they told Catherine.

The proposal struck Catherine so much that she nearly laughed. "Why in Spades would I do that?"

"Because what I have to offer you is irreplaceable." This person did not think this was a funny as the Queen thought it was. Nothing was that valuable to her. Not anymore.

"I need your heart, to bring back to the White Queen in Chess," the person divulged. "But as you can see, it is damaged. For it to work, it must be repaired. And for that to occur, it must rest where it belongs."

Catherine felt as though she was going to laugh for the first time in years. "What could you possibly have to offer me that I would want?"

"You can see for yourself," the person said. Catherine was almost convinced that this person was a man. "I left it in your room."

..................

Catherine had over a thousand reasons to object to this person placing an object of unknown origin in her chambers. Whatever it was, she knew it wouldn't be good. It could have been another Jabberwocky tearing up her drapes.

Raven was at her side as she and the White Queen's messenger stood in front of her chambers. From what she knew, the thing in her room was most likely living.

"If you want to keep this object," the messenger said, "Then you must keep your heart in your chest until it is fully repaired. No matter how painful the process is."

"There is nothing in there that could make me do that," Catherine denied them.

"If you say so," sighed the messenger. They grabbed the door handle and left the door slightly ajar for her.

Doubtful and weary, Catherine opened the door to her room fully and stepped inside. The door closed behind her, though it was not of her doing.

She turned back to the door to open it, but it was now locked. Footsteps pattered on the floor behind her. Fear refused to allow her to look.

"Catherine?"

She froze, thinking she was about to wake up from this dream.