Prologue ~ Ever After

Oxford, England, 1864

The sky that day was a heavy ash, clouds slowly stewing above like thick molten lead. The air was veiled, icy and damp, as iron bells tolled the age of the dead.

Lewis was once intrigued by this new world. A world where life abounded, where laughter chimed so loud, and where everything had reason…

But no longer.

His stomach twisted as he watched silent tears trail down Alice's face, piercing blue eyes locked mournfully on the passing casket of her elder brother. Black stained cherry wood, draped with both the union jack and the white and black flag of the spades. Lilies in bunches where showered over the top, waving their slight goodbyes as the pallbearers continued their march forward.

A single man followed this procession. Thinning blond hair combed back, ice eyes fixed forward. He took measured steps, feet heavy, as if it where a struggle to keep moving.

The Duke Alexander Liddell, the only member of the highly respected family to believe Lewis's innocence.

Well, him, and little Alice.

The rest of the family gathered at either side of the procession. Half of them kept their attention where it should be- on the casket of Damien Liddell.

The other half kept it on Lewis.

Cold. Presumptuous, perhaps… rightfully so… Lewis shifted under the blaming gaze of the eyes locked on him. The majority of the Liddell family found it just a bit odd that the death of Damien followed so closely after the arrival of Lewis in little Alice's life.

"Of course it was him. He's that bloody queen's hatter- he had full access to Damien while with little Alice." He had heard Alice's auntie Gertrude (or Gordy Gurt, as Alice calls) say to another woman,"He'd be mad not to take out one of the Spade's most promising agent-to-be when he got the chance."

"Oh, but he is." The other woman replied, voice dropping to a whisper, "In fact, tried to off himself several times after being dubbed as the queen's hatter, so I hear. Poor thing can't take such a responsibility."

"So the queen will burn him out, get him to kill anyone who may pose a threat, and then throw him to the wayside once he snaps." Gertrude 'tsked, shooting a glare over at Lewis, who was pretending to be enthralled in a dusty old novella, "Exactly what she did to the King, no doubt. Probably why Alice is so attracted to him, too. The little dear has such a big heart, probably pities him. I would too, if he wasn't so cold-blooded."

But I'm not cold-blooded… or mad, either. Lies, all of them... But even he couldn't completely convince himself of that. Some of the women's accusations were true, like his attempts at suicide in his early days at the queen's court. He even tried to run himself through with his own wocky blade once, only to be 'saved' by March, who happened to walk by just in time.

His hands clenched in his pockets as the casket was set down and the clergy began his blessings. Lewis felt a tug on his coat, breaking him from his downward spiral of thought. He looked down, a pang of guilt hitting him as his gaze fell down on little Alice.

"Do you wish to leave?" Lewis spoke with a hushed voice, gentle. The churchyard was no place for a child, that even he knew. He was prepared to escort her out if it all became too much for her.

Alice shook her head, "No, I'm fine. I was just…" She glanced back at the grave, looking as if she was about to burst back into tears. She bit them back, attempting to keep what little composure she had. Always so strong, even for such a young girl, "Is death always like this?"

The question shocked Lewis. He tore his gaze away from her, biting his lip. Is it? Sure, he had seen his fair share of death. In fact, blood was as common as paint in the red court... sometimes, he would wonder if queen Aileene painted the very walls with the stuff. But executions there were quick, informal in their maddened frequency.

But this… Lewis looked over those who had come to pay their respects to Damien. Fog had set in, the mist paling against the black dawned for the occasion. There was no wind, but the still air managed to chill everyone to the bone without it, sucking away any warmth and making everything look as pale and waxy as the corpse being buried.

He briefly met eyes with Alice's aunt, who was still scrutinizing his every angle. "It's hard to say," he muttered, ducking his head back down to Alice.

The rest of the service stretched on without another word between the two. The air became dense with the words of well-wishers, until finally the last flower was offered and the funeral was over.

Lewis stumbled a bit as he followed Alice to her coach, awkwardly cutting through the less than friendly crowd that scattered across the graves. But he never lost sight of her, following the trail of bright blond hair only darkened by a single black ribbon that tied it black.

When they reached the road side, Alice hopped into the back seat. But when Lewis didn't follow, she poked her head out the door, confused, "Aren't you coming with us?"

He gave her a gentle smile, all too aware of the few pairs of eyes drilling into his back from the churchyard, "Alice, you know I can't. It's time for you to go back to your home, and me to mine."

Alice pouted, "If you're going to a home, you're going to ours."

Lewis took a step back, "Alice-"

She grabbed his arm before he got too far, tugging at his sleeve, "You're coming home with us. You're my big brother now."

He could only stare. As the little girl looked determinedly up at him, his ears rang with those words, "Big brother" . Of all things, pity washed over him, Poor girl, he thought, She simply can't stand to go without him. "Alice," he placed a hand on her shoulder, "I'm not Damien-"

"I know you're not Damien, he's over there." She jabbed a finger over his shoulder, over where her father was still hovering around his son's grave with the clergy. She then stuck her finger at him, digging it into his black overcoat, "You're Lewis. You protected me where he couldn't. That makes you my other brother."

Lewis didn't have the heart to go against her childish logic, and gently wrapped his hand around hers, she's been through so much… "Alright, you win. I'll go home with you, but not now. I have to… take care of something first."

Alice folded her arms, trying to look imposing even with her smidge too-big black dress, "But you will come home, right?"

"Of course."

"By tea time?"

He pulled her into a hug, "By tea time."

Duke Liddell had come by then, scaring off the remaining few stares and thanked the hatter for coming with a brave good-bye and a firm handshake. Lewis watched silently as the Duke rallied his remaining child into the coach, and in all most no time, the two where off.

As Lewis waved after them, there was still one thought that troubled his already troubled mind.

This might be the first thing I can't do for you, Miss Alice...