Page 78 of Madness Becomes Her

“Are you scared to fight the Chatterwocky?”

I used to laugh at the name until Cirius took me to the library in the palace and showed me depictions of the great beast the Red Queen calls pet.

“Yes.”

“But you’re still going to do it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s stupid.” Beau snorts a laugh.

Turning onto my belly, I lay my head on my hands, grass prodding through my fingers and stabbing my chin as I level Beau with a gaze. “Cirius says it’s brave.”

“Easy for him to say; he’s a fucking giant.”

A laugh falls out of me, and I realize this is the least anxious I’ve been since Hatter left. I know it’s because I’m fully trained and as ready as ever, but I chalk it up to my newfound friendship with Beau.

“You miss Hatter,” Beau says softly, his puppy-dog eyes growing softer.

“I do. So much it feels like I can’t breathe.”

“You love him. Papa can’t stand being away from Mama.”

“That’s sweet.”

“It’s gross.”

I laugh. “You’ll get there one day.”

“Gosh, I hope not.”

“I’m sorry you’re sad,” Beau offers, and my heart constricts at his kindness.

At such a young age, he has more compassion than anyone I’ve ever met.

Rolling onto my back, I let my mind drift back through memories of before. Before Wonderland. Before the earth swallowed me whole and brought me back to Hatter. Back to a world that needed me.

The world I’m from was harsh and cunning. Everyone around you was always trying to use you in some fashion, use you to get a leg up, to survive. Down here, everyone works cohesively for survival. Love is abundant and shared, and hate is silently forbidden. Even if hate exists in one being in Wonderland, this world feels like the better option when thinking about my future.

“Will you stay after the fight, Eleanor?” Beau asks, his voice barely audible through the emotion in it.

My mind tumbles and twirls through memories from here and there, from a life before and a life changed. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.

“You could leave Hatter behind?” he asks, and I wish I had all the answers to quell his worrying, but I don’t.

This feels like home. Hatter feels like home, but my mind still argues that I don’t belong here.

That I belong in the world I was born into.

“No,” my voice cracks as tears fall over my lids.

“You don’t have to, Eleanor. You control your fate in Wonderland. You control your fate always.”

“You’re really wise for… how old even are you?”

He scoffs. “I’m thirty-five.”

I roll over, tears forgotten, and sniffle. “You’re older than me?”