I was the only one remaining in the room again. After what seemed to be forever, Tinker entered. "Ling Qi," he called with his heavy British accent.

"It's pronounced Ling Qi."

"I am sorry about that. Follow me." We went past at least a dozen corridors half a dozen set of stairs and dozens more servants getting to our destination.

"I can only bring you this far. Behind those white doors you will meet Lady Charlotte personally."

"Thank you."

"There is no need for that."

"I suppose you are right."

"The game wasn't up to me."

"I can totally understand."

"No you don't understand. There is more beyond the game."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to look for it. It's already coming for you."

I had no I idea what he meant so I turned and opened one of doors and left him in the hallway. Again I was fascinated. The room appeared to come from a different dimension, like the rabbit hole Alice fell through. Everything was small except for the bed, which was the size of a truck.

"Come sit." I was started by the sweetness of the voice. Lady Charlotte, small and fragile, had tea cups laid out on the table before her. I did as she told and luckily the chair for me was regular size that dwarfs everything else around me.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked voice sweet.

"Sure, thank you."

Usually I was not a person to appreciate tea, since I preferred soft drinks instead. When I leaned forward to grab the tea, it felt awkward since the table only came up to my knee. I took the teacup up by stem and drank it in small sips.

"How is it?"

It tasted bitter and sweet at the same time and gave me the feeling of freshness.

"Sweet and bitter. Gives me the feeling of morning coffee. If I had to guess its ingredients its chrysanthemum, mixed with a hint of honey and a pint of cinnamon."

She lifted up her face and stared at me for a moment then carefully set down her tea.

"Close. But you were missing one more ingredient."

"And that is?"

"A spoonful of sugar. I don't expect you to know it, because I am the one who made this tea." She smiled and the tea suddenly tasted much better. I stared at her and she stared back. We held each other's gaze like this for ten solid seconds. I was the first one to look away.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked.

"No, it's just..." she replied stubbornly in a cute way.

"Life isn't it?" I blurred out. She was absolutely silent and was facing down.

"Tell me about your life." I said gently.

"I..." I saw her lips move, but she didn't look like she would say more.

"Very well, I tell you mine." Though I had never really told anyone about my past life.

"I was born in China, eighteen years ago. Both my parents are Chinese though I never knew much about my father, he disappeared and is presumably dead... by law. I asked my mother why he disappeared, but she never wanted to talk about it. When I was in elementary I was ahead of everyone. That was the time she began to develop a mental illness and it got worse every day. At first I thought she was unimpressed by my academic grades, so I tried harder in every subject, soon I was top 5 in school and was skipping grades all the time. However she still didn't respond, one day I came home and saw her doing dishes and I was going to show her the certificate I got for being top 5 students, when all of a sudden she collapsed. She was in hospital for one week straight. The doctors told me her mental illness was so serve she might not be able to take care of herself for the remainder of her life." I paused and I let that sink in, but she remained expressionless.

"So from that day off, I did all the chores and took up a part time job as soon as soon I was a teen. I took one part time job and it wasn't enough to pay of the rent, so I took another. That was barely enough for my mother's medical bills. The situation continued for about a year and I swear I would have had a mental and physical breakdown if I continued working. But in those critical times, a professor, my mother's friend, offered to pay off the rent and medical bills. All he wanted was for me to become his student. The deal seemed too good and there wasn't a reason to say no. He taught me a great deal of things. After a few years I went to Cambridge on full scholarship. Afterwards, I was caught in the train incident and now I am here."

She showed a little smile; the kind of smile that radiates infinite sympathy. I hated that. Years of life had taught me sympathy is just another form of pity and pity meant being looked down, and that was not something I wanted.

"Is that too hard to accept?" I said.

She took a long sip of her tea and set it down again.

"No, not at all. Even though I was born into likely the wealthiest family on earth, I still don't feel quite happy. I've always thought myself as a bird, meant to fly, not to be caged and showed off. For all my life all I ever wanted was freedom, I may have everything else here, but I am sick of it. I want out. I would switch lives with you if possible."

I had no idea what she was saying.

"No, you don't want a life like mine. A life with false "freedom" full of bitterness. As soon as you got the faintest taste of it you'll wish you stayed here forever."

At this my ring beeped. I quickly covered it and decided from not to comment on any more of her ideas no matter how much I thought they were nonsense.

"Don't mind the ring, I hate that thing too." For once there wasn't sweetness in her voice; it was filled with frustration.

"Sorry I shouldn't have commented."

"No, it's ok. I know it sounds like child's dream; but that's what I wished for my entire life. I just..."

"There nothing wrong with wanting freedom!" I raised my voice.

"Thank you for understanding..."

"It's not about understanding, it's about action. If you want to go out, then go out. Don't be afraid of doing things, if you don't act, you'll probably stay stuck in this house forever. You don't know until you try." I caught a gleam in her eye, a gleam of hope and I swear I could already see a tear in her eye.

"Freedom is like a pair of wings, it's always attached to you. But, if you don't spread them and take flight there is no point of having them in the first place. I believe if you spread your wings and take flight, you will be the soaring above us all."

She began to cry. Not the tears of sorrow and loss, but the tears of happiness. Joy and elation. My morale wanted me go ahead and wrap my arms around her and comfort her, but my instinct told me to let her cry it out. She needed some time to think. Looking at her cry reminded me the last I shed tears. I have never once in my life cried for happiness. My tears have all been bitter. Cries of unfairness mixed with hatred. In the end my instinct won over, since if I went ahead and comfort her right now would just seem like taking advantage, which is also something against my morale.

As time grew long, I started to feel uneasy. She had spent about half of this conversation crying which left us very little time to talk. A lad came through the door and told me my time was up. I slowly got up and began to walk towards the door, until her voice stopped me.

"Thank you. Ling Qi."

She pronounced it wrong just like everyone else, but I could forgive that.

"Ling is fine."

"Then you can just call me Charlotte."

I stood there for a moment then turned around and said, "Are you sure I won't get in trouble?"

"I permitted it myself."

"Alright then Charlotte. Farewell."

"Hopefully we will see each other again soon." She had one of those sun blinding smiles.

My heart dashed like a wild deer, one moment I was jogging through the forest, and the next thing I know is that I was pulling Santa's sleigh.

She waved a small goodbye and I returned it before leaving. Outside Tinker was waiting for me. His expression normally reminded me of an unhappy goblin. Now he was smiling

"Come," Tinker said.

"What's making you smile?" I asked suddenly suspicious and hostile.

"Can't an old man smile?"

I looked closely for evidence of what was making this old hag smile. His gave me discomfort. I noticed a few things I hadn't before, his hands no longer covered by gloves, looked rigid as rock and rough as tree bark.

"I didn't know you were a fighter. And your weapon wasn't a gun." I concluded.

"You noticed? I fought in World War II. My division was known as the "Knights of Rounds." They were special ops troops that served Britain. My weapon was the sword. I was given the nickname "Lancelot," partially because I had an eye for the commander's wife. He knew well what my intentions were, but he still let me stay in the army since I was the best they had. After the war, he dismissed me as soon as he got the chance. All the other members get benefits when they left, and I got nothing. Soon the quarrel turn into fight and by accident I shot him down. You get it? I shot him down like a damn peasant, he should have died! But God had mercy on him and he lived, although he is long dead now. But after realizing what I have done, I ran like hell and didn't return to England for 4 decades. Here I am now, no one aware of my past or they simply overlook it. Every time I think about it I am reminded what a lucky bastard I am."

"Let me ask you: what do you think would happen if you were simply arrested?"

He was quit for a moment then spoke up again:

"Possibly a few years in prison I'd lose all the credit, after everything I done for my country."

"And 3 decades of hiding was worth it?"

"A century would have still been worth it. Don't get me wrong, it's not about pride."

"It's about guilt." My voice snapped.

He smiled.

"You know you can't run away forever."

"I don't need to. I've been through worse."

"What happens if I go to the nearest police and reveal your crimes? What would you do?"

His expression was blank.

"But that not what I am going to do. If you think you been through the worse, then try living with the guilt."

Something about him changed for moment, but it was all too quick. I didn't have time to register what the change was, as he turned back to his old self again. Tinker turned back normal again, old and expressionless as ever.

"Follow me," he said. I was much more aware of him now. Knowing the person walking in front of you has attempted murder can make a normal person feel uneasy. That usually doesn't apply to me except for this time, since I thought there was much more to it.

He stopped in front of a pair of golden doors. He gave the signals for the lads to open it.

"Beyond this staircase is the stage."

I walked through it without exchanging another word; anything would be better than staying with the crazy old man.