Hatter

Seren and Hatter took a stroll while chatting.

“I heard you had a party today,” Hatter said.

“Yeah, but it didn’t go well,” she pouted.

“How come?” he asked.

“Just a minor issue,” she replied, shaking her hand.

“So… Hatter…” She hesitated. “Thank you,” she said, pulling out a cotton handkerchief with her family crest embroidered. “I didn’t have time to thank you properly last time,” she explained.

“Oh!” he took the handkerchief, perplexed.

“Oh snap! Right! Wait here! Don’t go. I want to return your jacket. " She turned on her heels and jogged to her room to grab it.

Hatter watched her figure disappear into the halls. He grinned, his eyes softening. Then, turning swiftly, he pushed a brick, revealing a secret passage. With a final glance around, he slipped inside and vanished. He reached the front of a chamber, opened the door, and entered it. He took off his mask and placed it, along with the handkerchief, on the table next to a hairpin. He applied heavy makeup and hid his ginger hair under a big hat. He wore his casual jester uniform. He looked at the table and sighed. He took the mask and the hairpin, and rested on the window, pondering.

“The sun is far,” he thought, looking at the hairpin. “But what if…” He looked at the mask next to the hairpin, quickly shook his head, and sighed.

He stood up, placed the mask and the hairpin back on the table, and then walked to his bed, grabbing a plushie he had bought during a trip. He went to Seren’s bedroom door and knocked, hiding the plushie behind him.

Seren opened the door. She lifted her head, and her eyes brightened up. She had been waiting for him.

“I'm Glad you came back safe,” she said, as it was a tradition to say after someone returned from a long trip.

“Hmm,” he replied, his eyebrows subtly raising, amused by her demeanor. She spoke with care in her mind; it was different from the other nobles.

He shook his head and revealed the plushie, it was a black raven.

“I noticed at the picnic you were chasing after a black swan,” he said. “So I bought you a black swan plush. And a fat one,” he grinned, his eyes lighting up.

She looked at the plushie’s face and then at his. Raising an eyebrow, she accepted the gift before glancing back at him. “Tsk… you know that’s a raven, right?” she asked.

“No, it’s not,” he replied, smirking, and looked to the side.

“Yes, it is,” she replied.

“Listen, just pretend it’s a black swan,” he pouted. “I searched but couldn’t find a black swan so I improvised,” he confessed.

She cracked up with laughter, realizing she had laughed a bit too loud. “Excuse me,” she said. “Why would you lie?” She hugged the plushie.

“I don’t know,” he replied.

“Good night, Owen,” she said, smiling.

“Good night…” he replied, heading back to his room.

He finally reached his chamber, took off the jester outfit, and headed to sleep.

Seren, on the other hand, was still awake. She lay on her bed, hugging her plushie, but her mind wandered to different places.

“He disappeared again. Well, on the positive side, I met him in the palace, meaning he is nearer than I initially thought,” she pondered. After thinking a lot about her interaction with the Hatter she drifted to sleep while hugging the plushie.

The next day arrived, and Lotus prepared breakfast for Seren in the garden. Seren, the maids, and the jester gathered in the garden. The smell of rose petals that had fallen on the ground filled the palace, and they all ate together.

“How was yesterday’s party?” Owen asked Seren.

“Well, it was boring, I guess,” she replied.

“Oh! There was a Hatter I met when I arrived at the palace,” she added.

“Who?” he asked.

“A mysterious guy I met at the masquerade ball,” she said.

“Well… I met him again yesterday,” she continued.

“He is probably a boring dude,” he teased.

“What! He is not!” she objected.

“Well, then tell me more about this lucky man,” he sneered.

“Tsk… he is a great gentleman. He helped me during that party, unlike someone I know who would probably bully me too!” she pouted.

“At least that someone you know brings you gifts. Also, I bet he was bored,” he snickered.

“He was not!” she pouted.

“Why would you care for a glimpse of memory?” he questioned.

“He is not just a memory,” she said, gripping her spoon.

“I thought I was the only subject you would care for. So why do you care about him?” he questioned coldly.

“Huh?” she gasped.

Her mind got foggy. Is he joking? Is that another foolery he is doing? Or… is he jealous? she wondered.

Owen looked away, stood up, and wanted to move. His mind was stoic as if he had looked at Medusa.

“I care for both of you,” she remarked.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he walked away. Before he could make a turn and leave, a guard came up, declaring a command from the king for Seren to meet him and bring the jester along.

They both nodded and went along to the king’s chamber. The atmosphere around them grew heavy as they both walked awkwardly toward their assigned destination.

The doors opened, and the king was accompanied by a Duke from a neighboring country, seeking to make a deal with Seren. The deal was as follows: Seren would become a concubine, and the Duke would help with the destruction that had ravaged her land’s epidemic and would dictate what goes in and out of it.

“You see… your grace… your price has gone down… you know, with the fires and all… no one wants to marry misery,” he suggested. “And since I am good-hearted, I decided to keep you as a… concubine… excuse me, but no one wants to marry a poor noble,” he added. “What do you say, my dear?” he said, stretching out his hand to hold hers.

Seren was taking in the words that came out of his mouth with ease; however, her face slowly turned red, and her eye twitched. She was smiling, but a storm inside her was building. She was thinking of polite words to address this issue professionally, trying to find the best-case solution, while slightly backing off her hand, clearly not wanting to hold his.

Owen grabbed the duke's hand and shook it aggressively.

“Oh! You, sir, are a true gem,” Owen declared dramatically.

“Uh… yes?” The Duke frowned.

“A true noble! How chivalrous of you to pity a lady!” Owen continued. “And to graciously offer her the title of concubine, as if she is not already the soon-to-be Marquess! Truly, your kindness knows no bounds.”

“So worried for a damsel, his hair follicles retired early. True art right there,” he pretended to wipe away his tears.

The King’s face reddened as he struggled to contain his laughter. Seren coughed, barely holding back hers. The Duke’s jaw tightened, but Owen pressed on.

He turned to Seren and knelt theatrically.

“Oh! Your Grace! If I were you, I would agree to be his property! For his exquisite forehead holds a promise for a bright future,” he jeered.

The King burst into laughter, and Seren covered her mouth, trying to remain composed. The Duke, on the other hand, was fuming.

“How dare he make a fool of me?!” the Duke seethed.

“Oh, no! That’s my job, not yours,” Owen quipped.

The Duke lunged toward him, ready to strike.

“I refuse,” Seren said. “The brilliant deal of yours is not acceptable,” she added.

The Duke fell to his knees, trying to rethink where he went wrong.

“Now, if you would excuse me,” she said. She looked at Owen and left. Owen followed her quickly. While Seren and Owen walked through the halls to reach the garden, the atmosphere lightened, but that clouded atmosphere appeared again.

“Thank you,” Seren murmured.

“It’s no problem,” he replied.

She stopped walking for a bit. Everything around her blacked out. She could only see him. She took a breath, her neck turning red as she looked at him. “He is always there for me,” she thought.

Owen stopped walking and turned around to check on her. She looked at him, her eyes shifting from grey to black with only him as a reflection.

“What would I do without you?” she grinned, her fist hiding her face.

“I am always here to keep you sunny,” he smiled with his eyes.

He turned and strolled again, but his footsteps were slow, allowing Seren to keep up with him.