Ace looked just as surprised as Alice felt. He slowed his horse as he approached. Squinting his eyes and furrowing his brow, he took in the scene: a young girl and a Ferret standing before the remains of what had been a rather large tree. When at last he had reached them, he dismounted and slowly stepped towards her, his hand hesitantly hovering over the hilt of his sheathed sword.

"Lady Laurens?" he said, as though he wasn't quite sure if what he was seeing was reality.

"Ace," Alice said with a desperate grin. Her eyes darted to Mr. Ferret, who seemed slightly confused by the name with which Ace had addressed her, but he did not say a word. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"A giant girl was spotted above the canopy," Ace explained, looking past her and towards the rubble. "And with one of the Queen's tarts having been stolen at the tea party, we thought there was a good chance she was the culprit. Since I was already searching the edge of the Forest when she was spotted, I decided to go on ahead while my sergeant gathered the rest of the men."

Alice lifted a hand to her mouth and gasped. "Someone stole the Queen's tarts?"

He eyed her suspiciously. "One tart, but that was enough."

Creasing her brow in the pretense of deep thought, Alice asked, "Why would a giant girl be considered the thief of a tart?"

"The Queen added some Growing Powder to the tarts so that if anyone attempted to eat them, it would be easy to find and punish them."

With a tilt of her head, Alice batted her eyelashes and pursed her lips. "Why would someone be punished for eating tarts? Isn't that what they're meant for?"

Ace's gaze shifted to something beyond her, and without a word, he gently pushed her aside and walked towards the destroyed oak tree. Alice spun around to see him nearing the abandoned tart. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest as she watched him bend down on one knee and gently right the overturned pastry. The muscles in his jaw strained for a moment before he got to his feet and turned to face her.

Holding out the tart, he asked, "Are you a baker, Lady Laurens?"

Her gaze was glued to the pastry, and she knew the panic in her eyes was confession enough. "No, just an enthusiast."

A sigh escaped from his lips, and Alice lifted her head in time to see him shut his eyes tightly. Then, in an instant, he pocketed the tart and pulled out iron shackles. "You are under arrest for the theft of Her Majesty the Queen of Hearts' strawberry tart."

Too stunned to offer much resistance, Alice watched helplessly as Ace cuffed her wrists in front of her, taking a firm grip of her upper arm. As he led her to his horse, Mr. Ferret began to protest.

"Stop! You can't take her! She's just a sweet, innocent girl!" he cried.

"Sweet she may be, Mr. Ferret, but innocent? I think not," Ace said as he tossed Alice onto the saddle.

"Please! She's just a girl! Let me explain!" Mr. Ferret continued, running towards them.

But Ace was already seated and spurring his horse into a run, leaving Mr. Ferret's desperate pleas lost in the sound of hoofbeats.

Alice stared down at the passing terrain, unsure of what to do or say. She dared to steal a glance of Ace, hoping to diffuse the situation with a little light flirting and humor, perhaps even managing to talk her way out the entire mess. However, when she caught a glimpse of the intensity in his eyes and the set of his jaw, all of her courage fled her. She resumed staring at the quickly passing ground, wondering what lay ahead of her.

They arrived at the Castle in a timely manner, the guards opening the gates to Ace without question. As the hinges creaked behind them, Ace slid off of his steed's back and planted his feet squarely on the ground. He then reached for Alice, who prepared herself for the rough treatment that is only to be expected when one is a prisoner. However, she was surprised to find that he handled her with great care, lowering her to the ground softly and making sure her skirt covered her decently. Still, he refused to make eye contact with her as he marched her into the Castle, his grip on her arm still firm.

The Castle was a display of decadence and beauty. She hadn't much time to admire the luxuries as they passed her by, but she saw enough to cause her fingers to twitch at the thought of sneaking a vase or two into her purse. With a shake of her head, she tried to dispel such thoughts. She was in enough trouble as it was; there was no need to add to her crimes. Besides, with both hands shackled and a royal guard at her side—not to mention the many Card guards lining the hall—it would take a little more planning to get away with any sort of scheme.

Ace led her to a set of large, black doors. Two menacing axes had been carved into them, as if to intimidate all who entered. They stopped before them, and Ace at last turned to Alice. His eyes wandered back and forth as he tightly pressed his lips together, keeping any words he may have had for her at bay. Alice opened her mouth to speak, but for the first time in her life, she could find nothing to say. Finally releasing a sigh, Ace opened the doors and led her inside.

They were in what appeared to be a court room. There was a stand to the right filled with citizens of various sizes and creatures. All were stiff and terrified, their paws and hands and fins shaking as they gripped slates and pieces of chalk. Upon seeing her enter, they quickly began to scribble on the slates, making quite a show at seeming busy. A long, red carpet made a path from the doors all the way to the other end of the room where there was a throne.

And in that throne sat a woman.

The Queen.

Alice's breath caught as Ace led her down the carpet. It seemed like a harrowing journey considering what awaited her when she arrived, but she kept pace with Ace's long strides, trying to maintain her dignity. When at last they had reached the throne, Ace got down on one knee, pulling Alice along with him.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing his head and lifting a fist to his chest.

Alice followed suit in bowing her head, but with both hands shackled, she decided to skip the salute. "Captain Ace," spoke a strong, commanding voice.

Ace and Alice lifted their heads. The Queen glared down at them from atop her throne. She was very beautiful, dressed in a stunning red dress, her hair piled neatly on her head and ornamented by a gold crown. Alice felt her blood freeze as the woman's attention turned to her. With cold and calculating eyes, the Queen seemed to be analyzing every inch of her, from her disheveled hair to her pilfered blue gown. With some struggle, Alice swallowed around the knot in her throat.

"Rise," the Queen said, boredom lacing her voice. "What have you brought me, Ace?"

Lifting himself up, as well as Alice, Ace cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, I have the..." He trailed off for a moment, briefly allowing his gaze to flicker towards Alice. "I have a suspect in the case of your missing tart."

The Queen arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "A suspect?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Ace said, casting his eyes downward.

A loud caw made Alice jump. She had not noticed the rather large raven perched atop the Queen's throne. Sensing her stare, the raven cawed again, giving Alice another start. Satisfied with the reaction, he ruffled his feathers and returned his attention to the Queen.

"I do recall demanding that you find me the culprit, not a suspect," the Queen said, her every word dripping with disdain.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Ace replied. "I only call her a suspect because I did not actually see her steal the tart."

"You didn't?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"Then, pray tell, Captain, why do you suspect her?"

He hesitated once again. "I saw her in the Forest."

"And?"

There was a twitch in his jaw, and Alice felt his fingers tighten around her arm. "And her height far exceeded any of the trees."

"Is that so?" The Queen turned her attention again to Alice. "Have you any other evidence, Captain?"

A quick intake of breath preceded Ace reaching into his pocket and pulling out the infamous tart. "When I discovered her, this was nearby."

The Queen leaned forward slightly, a glint in her eye as she caught sight of the small bit missing from the pastry. "So, not only did this brazen child steal one of my very own tarts, but she also dared to taste it?"

"It seems that way, Your Majesty."

The Queen leaned back in her throne, all of her attention fixed solely on Alice. "Who is this creature?"

Before anyone could speak for her, Alice quickly replied, "Josephine Dawson, Your Majesty."

She could feel Ace's stare, perhaps wondering if this was in fact her true name. "Josephine Dawson?" the Queen repeated.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Alice said, dipping into an impromptu curtsey. "At your service."

The Queen narrowed her eyes as Alice clumsily returned to a standing position. "Mr. Rabbit?" she called.

A timid white rabbit appeared, though where he had been hiding, Alice was unsure. With shaking paws, he shuffled through some papers and adjusted his glasses nervously. "Ah, yes, Your Majesty. This appears to be Miss Alice Liddell, ward of A. Lupin Ferret, known for petty theft and hoarding," the White Rabbit said, his voice trembling.

The Queen turned to Alice. "You dare lie to your Sovereign?"

Alice gave a nervous smile and shrugged. "Force of habit, Your Majesty."

"You make a habit of lying to royalty?"

"No, not just royalty. I lie to most everyone. At least when it comes to my identity."

The Queen's eyes narrowed once more.

"I'm a thief, by profession, and it's very prudent that we thieves keep a low profi—ow!"

Alice was cut off when Ace dug his fingernails into her arm. When she met his eyes, he widened them as if scolding her. She didn't much like that, but she admitted he had a point. Being cheeky with the Queen likely wasn't going to get her anywhere.

The Queen took a deep breath before turning to the jury. "People of the jury, how do you find this thief?"

A tree frog lifted his slate with shaking hands. On the board, written in terrible penmanship, was the word GUILTY. The Queen smiled wickedly and turned to Alice.

"The jury has spoken," she said. "Alice Liddell, for the crime of stealing the Queen's own tart, I sentence you to death. Off with her—"

"Wait!"

The doors flew open, and all in the Court turned to see Mr. Ferret panting in the doorway, flanked by two guards. Before he could even catch his breath, he was scurrying down the long carpet, calling out to the Queen.

"She is not the thief!" he wheezed.

"What is the meaning of this interruption?" the Queen demanded.

"Your Majesty," Mr. Ferret flopped into an awkward bow, "this young lady is not the one who stole your tart."

"Who are you?" the Queen asked.

"A. Lupin Ferret, Your Majesty, guardian of Alice Liddell."

"If this child is not the one who stole my tart, Mr. Ferret, how do you explain her towering height in the Forest? Are you suggesting the captain of my guard is lying?"

Mr. Ferret shook his head. His tail was twitching something terrible, and Alice wished she could go and calm him. "She did eat some of the tart," he admitted.

"Then she is guilty!"

"No!" he exclaimed. The Queen's eyes widened. "I mean, no, Your Majesty. She did not know it was your tart."

"How did she not know?"

"Because I was the one who stole it."

A gasp arose from the jury. Even the jittery White Rabbit shook his head and adjusted his spectacles. Only the Queen seemed unmoved. "You, Mr. Ferret?" she repeated, clearly unconvinced.

"Yes, me. Think of it, Your Majesty. I am a known thief here in Hearts. Long before this girl came into my care, I was stealing from gentry of all sorts. My name is practically synonymous with theft. Do you really think my student could out-thieve me?"

The Queen's gaze flickered to Alice. "That does seem logical."

"Ask your Captain. Ask him if he actually saw Alice steal the tart."

All in the room turned to Ace whose body noticeably stiffened. "Well, Ace?" the Queen said. "Did you see this girl steal my tart?"

Ace turned to Alice, his hazel eyes wavering to and fro. Something was going through his head as he stared at her, something that created the turmoil and indecision reflected in those warm eyes. It was so out of place in his otherwise poised and professional expression.

He turned back to the Queen. "No, Your Majesty. I did not see Alice Liddell steal the tart."

A grimace twisted the Queen's beautiful face. "Very well. Alice Liddell, you shall not be sentenced to death."

Alice's body deflated with relief, and she was surprised to find that Ace's grip had not relaxed as well. Though not wanting to think too highly of herself, she was certain that he had been somewhat reluctant to hand her over to the Queen. Had it only been her imagination?

"Instead, your guardian, Mr. A. Lupin Ferret, the true thief," the Queen continued, a vicious sparkle in her eye, "will receive your punishment."

There was hardly a moment for Alice to even form a sound of protest. The Queen lifted her slender hand, and the raven that had been perched upon her throne flew to the floor, transforming into a hooded figure obscured by shadow and gripping a large executioner's axe.

"Raven," the Queen continued, "off with his head!"

Finally finding her voice, Alice let out a strangled cry, throwing herself towards Mr. Ferret. She was held back by Ace's strong hold, and with a horrified gasp, she watched helplessly as Raven swung his axe and swiftly took off Mr. Ferret's head.

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Fun fact: I was too lazy to look up my Victorian era name generator when coming up with Alice's aliases, which resulted in me writing down whatever was on my mind at the time. Her first alias, Polly Laurens, was Hamilton inspired. I apparently had John Laurens on the brain. Polly was just a random name that popped up. As for Josephine Dawson, that was pulled from Titanic (the song Come Josephine In My Flying Machine and Jack's last name). Don't ask me why Titanic  was in my head. It just was.