CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Queen of Hearts
Alice decides to trust her shadow, and walks toward the Eighth Square, hoping Malice will meet her there.
While walking, she feels a headache come on, and realizes she is no longer under the influence of the spice.
After some time, she hears her shadow again, going pssst.
Alice looks down. “Yes?”
“Malice is about to meet with the Queen! She has it all planned! She’s going to use pepper in her eyes. Oh, you won’t want to miss this! Oh, I’ve got to go!”
The shadow again disappears.
Alice taps the top of the hat. Once again, she sees Malice as if she is floating slightly above and a short distance away from her.
Malice is standing where Alice has been many times before, in the Queen’s makeup room.
The Queen, though she ruled over the cards, was not a card herself—she was human, though she looked very much like a drawing of a Queen on a card. And she loved to be done-up.
It is one of Alice’s scheduled rounds to attend to the Queen and do her makeup. See, the Queen, a few years ago, heard how magical everyone considered Alice’s tears to be. Well, the Queen figured her tears could be used to make her appear beautiful. Alice never could tell much difference between before and after the tears spritz, but the Queen always claimed it made her face feel tingly and was absolutely convinced it worked.
Alice watches Malice curtsy. She has shed the catsuit, and is wearing her normal black dress, with no hint of the Cheshire Cat’s blood. Things are different than usual. The Queen is sitting in the makeup chair facing away from the mirror rather than looking into it. Also, the Queen is wearing a necklace of hearts, dark red colored and black around the edges. Alice is unable to count how many there are, but it looks like there very well could be thirteen.
“Thank you,” says the Queen, “for killing that accursed cat! I’m so glad to have him out of the way. Why, it’s one of the few things you’ve managed to get right.”
“You’re welcome Your Highness.”
“Yes, that’s why I’ve decided to invite you to the ball, just this once. Don’t get used to it. But why am I facing this way? Turn me around, you halfwit!”
Malice smiles. “Please. I have something very special in mind. I think it would be so grand if you wait for the surprise!”
The Queen sighs. “Oh very well. I love surprises. Like your surprise birthday party today! Why, I had a grand time at it! But now I have a ball to attend, so I want to look my best. But I want to try something different—exotic, yet elegant, yet splendid, yet inspiring gentle awe, yet inspiring fear of being beheaded. Can you do that?”
Malice claps. “Absolutely, why I’ll give you a makeover! And when I’m through, with my special ingredient, I’ll give you a brand new face!”
The enthusiasm is contagious and the Queen squeals along. “Ah, it’s your tears that make you such a good makeup artist. Without them you’d be subpar. But let’s have you work your magic, eh! And if I don’t like it, I’ll have you beheaded.”
(The Queen would always threaten Alice with beheading her, but never went through with it, because then where would she get the magic tears?)
So the Queen sits in the makeup chair and Malice gets to work, applying tinctures and powders, drawing with pencils and brushes. She is like an artist who apparently possesses all the same skills as Alice herself.
Malice says, “Done!”
“Ah, now for the finishing touch.”
Malice nods, grabs the bottle from the makeup table. The Queen stands, then approaches Malice.
Malice nods, wincing. The Queen slaps her hard across the face then begins launching into her typical insults. “You’re a stupid, incompetent, ugly, worthless…” It goes on for several minutes.
Usually, Alice would begin crying now. But that was the old version of Alice with a heart. Malice didn’t have one. (Well, at least not an internal one.)
Malice rubs her eyes. Immediately after, Malice’s eyes begin to tear up, then the tears begin to roll, copious amounts of tears.
“Boo hoo!” Malice shouts. “Boo hoo! Woe is me!” Alice doesn’t think Malice sounds very convincing, but that was to be expected since after all, she has no heart.
The Queen now does what she usually does—she holds the spray bottle to Malice’s face to try to capture as many tears in the bottle as she can.
“Excellent!” the Queen proclaims as she screws the cap on.
The usual next events were for Alice to spritz the Queen’s face with her tears.
Malice points the bottle nozzle at the Queen’s face. “Okay, are you ready to complete your makeover?”
“Oh, yes. I can’t wait. Everyone will be so jealous at the ball.”
“Are you ready for your brand new face?” Malice says in a teasing voice.
“Oh, hurry up, stupid! Don’t make me behead you!” She closes her eyes.
“Okay, here goes.” Malice spritzes, applying a fine mist all over the Queen’s face. Swivels the chair around. “Okay, open your eyes!”
“Hey, how come you don’t have a reflection? Oh, I can feel the tingling. It’s warm, warmer than usual. Hey, it’s hot!”
The skin of her face begins to bubble and smoke. “What? It burns! It ahhh!”
She stands, begins clawing at her face. Her face is smoking quite a bit now, and the Queen seems to be tearing at the flesh of her face. She falls to the ground and curls in a ball, sobbing.
Malice laughs. “Have fun at the ball! Somehow I suspect I’m no longer invited.” She exits the room.
Alice’s view of the scene shuts off.