With yet another night of restless sleep, Emma was awoken before dawn by Hector. She didn't appreciate him waking her with his voice quietly floating through her ear, leaving his breath on her neck while unconscious, but it did seem to be an effective way of waking her when she had finally set into a deeper sleep.

He dressed her in something that was a little more comforting; a pair of trousers and a light linen shirt, which he assured her would be necessary to wear for the lesson she would receive this morning. She was pleased not to wear a corset or fur for the first time since she had arrived in the kingdom.

In her drowsiness, she watched Hector pin her hair into a bun above her head, entranced by the motion of his swift fingers.

"Wake up, Emma, you have to be alert for your lesson. You can't casually wield a gun, after all." He squeezed her shoulders, giving her a stern look in the mirror she sat before.

"Why did you make the lesson so early then?" She rubbed her eyes, trying to brush her sleep away.

"You have a full schedule, starting with a dress fitting from a dressmaker from the Spade Kingdom." He pulled her to her feet to add pins to the loose hairs around her face. "In addition, I don't want the Queen to become suspicious of you. We're riding out into the woods behind the kingdom, so we must have an early start."

"Alright…" Emma tried to contain a yawn, but it consumed her.

Hector narrowed his eyes at her. "What did I tell you about getting sleep?"

"I did try to."

Hector sighed. "You're insufferable sometimes. You'll never marry."

Emma gave him a dark look.

"It's a joke."

March then entered the room after knocking quietly. He was wearing a heavy wool cloak, an unlit lantern hanging off of his arm. "It's cold outside, so prepare her for that." He rubbed his hands together.

"Are the horses ready?"

"Yes, but I could only get two; Wilbur's and yours. The stable boy wouldn't allow me to take another without reason."

"Did you see the White Rabbit?" Hector asked as he pulled a heavy wool coat out of the Princess' wardrobe.

March nodded, "He's in the watchtower. He'll see to it that we won't be disturbed."

"Good," Hector stood Emma up and wrapped the coat around her. "You'll be going deep into the woods with March while I stand watch. You are to pay close attention to his instruction, as he has a limited amount of time to spend with you, yes?"

Emma nodded, though she realized that if she wasn't careful, she could fall asleep at any moment.

Hector pinched her cheeks, startling her out of her sleepiness. "Don't fall asleep on the ride there."

Emma sighed, nodding her head again, knowing that she was in for a long day.

…

The ride into the forest was much longer than Emma had anticipated. They had to leave the Kingdom first, then follow a path through a deep forest that wasn't as beautiful as the floral forest she had witnessed when she arrived. The trees were tall and thick with heavy purple needles, each intertwining with the others, creating a dark canopy that shielded them from the rising sun. The forest was otherwise void of life, the ground covered in dry, dull orange needles that created a blanket that the horses had to trudge through. In the distance, Emma swore she could see yellow eyes staring at her, but when she blinked, they were gone. She spent a majority of the trip with her head against March's back, trying not to acknowledge what could possibly be lurking outside of the light of the lanterns both Hector and March held.

Half way through the path of the forest, the two horses stopped, and Hector instructed March to continue to the clearing ahead while he remained there.

March agreed and sent the horse into a gallop.

At the clearing, the sun now was able to cut through the trees to leave an open space where the was only wildflowers and a tall structure. Emma tried her best to determine what the structure was, but she was unable to identify its theme. It was about two feet taller than Emma, made of a grey and black marble. Around the structure, there was a staircase that was cut into the marble that circled around the structure to the top, where Emma couldn't see.

March stopped the horse, and when he was helping Emma descend, he explained, "That's a Rabbit Hole. There's one near each of the four kingdoms. It's for the messengers to travel quickly between the kingdoms and your world. That's how you came to Underland the first time; you followed Wilbur through an open Rabbit Hole."

Emma remembered that Wilbur had mentioned that she had followed him here for the first time, rather than being invited. It was strange to think that she was ever consciously bold enough to follow a strange man into some strange place. If she hadn't been convinced that she was dreaming when she found Wilbur in her bedroom, Emma never would have even considered following him this time, especially if she knew she would never return.

Was her sister concerned for her? What had her parents done when they discovered she was missing? At this rate, they must be convinced that she was dead, despite the fact that she had disappeared into thin air. She could also imagine that her fame had grown substantially since she had left; the actress that went missing without a trace. Did she run away with a lover to some foreign country to escape her parents? Did a snubbed director kidnap her and kill her to spite her parents? The world would never know that she followed the White Rabbit into the land where she was a wanted criminal, posing as the dead daughter of a deranged monarch.

March called out to her quietly when he realized that she was deep in thought. She returned her attention to him immediately.

"Are you okay?" He reached out and patted her on the shoulder.

"I'm alright. I was just thinking about the past, that's all."

"No reason to focus too much energy to something you don't have control over. There's always something to think about, but spending your time too much in the past forces you to ignore the future." He smiled at her. "Come; I'm looking forward to seeing you with a gun in your hands." He tied the horse's reins to one of the trees and lead her to the far side of the clearing.

When he pulled a small pistol from under his heavy cloak and handed it to her, March began the lesson with a warning. "This is a powerful weapon that will kill someone, Alice, so don't take it lightly."

"Right." Emma nodded, turning it over in her hands.

"It's not loaded at the moment, so I want you to just consider it. Have you ever held a gun before?"

Emma shook her head. She had held prop guns in the past, but nothing has heavy as this. The weight surprised her, though it emphasized the raw power of the mechanism in her hands.

The Rabbit positioned her hands to hold it properly, moving behind her to position her arms to have her hold it up. His cold fingers interlaced with hers as he forced her to aim the weapon ahead of her.

"The plan is to aim for the back of her head," March began speaking nearly in her ear, "Meaning that you will have to hold the gun about this high, more or less, with nearly perfect aim. Now, I'm going to be completely honest; you're not going to have the ability to do that. I don't think that I would be capable of such a feat in such a tight situation, so I'm changing the plan. You're going to shoot the Queen wherever you can, then, at a much closer range, you'll leave a finishing blow."

"That's gruesome." Emma tried her best to memorize the position of her hands, but she found herself distracted with how close March was to her in this moment. It was strange to have another living being aligned so closely to herself.

"It's not pretty, but it is necessary." He lowered their hands, taking a step around her to stand before her. He took the gun, loaded it, then returned it to her. "It will be loaded before I give it to you with exactly two bullets and that's it. You'll have a knife as a last resort, but I know for a fact that you would not be able to get to her fast enough to wound her mortally. One of the bullets needs to hit her." He took a step out of the way and pointed into the distance before her. "Aim the gun that way, then pull the trigger. There shouldn't be anything out there that you have to worry about hitting, alright? Don't think about precision, either. Just shoot it."

Emma nodded, raising the gun to about the same level March had shown her previously. Before her, there appeared to be nothing but the large evergreen trees. She tried her best to keep her hands steady with the weight of the gun, while assuring herself that she wouldn't slip and accidentally hit herself or March. After a few moments of calming herself, Emma impulsively shot the gun, sending a wave of adrenaline through her. Her hands shook and she dropped the gun, realizing that the feeling itself was a bit paralyzing.

She couldn't help but look down to her hands, expecting to see the blood of her nonexistent victim, but, as to be expected, there was nothing.

March came over and wrapped his hands around hers, steadying them. "Exhilarating, right?"

"Terrifying." Emma responded.

"That too." He rubbed his thumbs into her palms.

"How many times have you used a gun, March?""

"For business or pleasure?" She thought he was making a joke, but when she looked up to his face, she realized he was serious.

"Business."

"Twice."

"What happened?"

He sighed, dropping her hands. "The first time I shot at anything was when I tried to kill the Bandersnatch when it was attacking my family. I shot at it seven times and I managed to actually hit it five times, but it was far too powerful for me to manage by myself."

"I'm sorry." Emma responded, realizing that it was inappropriate for her to have asked this question in the first place.

"The second time was at Wilbur's trial." he continued, "I shot the executioner and killed him."

Emma did not anticipate such a response from him.

He went on, looking off into the distance. "Wilbur was supposed to be executed for his crimes against the crown. I couldn't stand the idea of losing the last person I cared about, so panicked. The last thing I remember was loading the gun, then when I came to, there was a dead knight and a group of card soldiers holding me down. They knocked my sense into me. I was imprisoned for two days.

"Hector retrieved me on the second day, saying that I had done a great service to him. He fought for my release and took me in. I'm still not sure what I had done to help him, considering the animosity he holds towards my cousin, but I've been afraid to ask, lest he realize that I had wasted his time."

The nature of Hector and March's relationship had always been a mystery to her. The two seemed to be close to one another, but they didn't seem to have a reason to have developed such a relationship in the first place. What would a prince have anything to honor with a commoner? It was even more confusing that March had murdered someone hired by the Queen, and somehow, he had managed to do some kind of favor for the Prince.

March smiled at her, changing his entire demeanor in a moment. "What was I just telling you about the past? I'm lucky to have survived for this long and have the privilege of teaching somebody that I care about to commit a heinous crime. I'm truly living the best life a rebel could have." He squeezed her hands, "Ready to go again?"

Emma nodded, knowing she really didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

…

Wilbur had heard the first shot go off in the distance, then the second and third, quite a while ago. He knew that somewhere out of his sight, the lesson between Emma and March had occurred. Hector's assisnation plan had now begun, and despite the fact that it would be beneficial for everyone in all of Underland for power to shift, he still dreaded what would come after.

The White Rabbit didn't hear the intruder enter the watchtower, but he noticed her when she ran her fingers along his neck.

He turned and faced the Queen immediately. He bowed before asking her why she had come, though he suspected that he already knew.

She smiled gently at him, though it was unsettling to see such a serene expression on her face as she withdrew a knife from the sleeve of her housecoat.

"Your majesty," he looked into the distance through the open window of the tower, a bit afraid that Emma and March would ride back into the kingdom at this moment. "Wouldn't it be better to do this somewhere a bit less conspicuous?"

"I don't want to be left waiting, Rabbit." She moved closer to him, reaching out to pull the cape off of his shoulders.

He remained silent as the Queen unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. He tried his best to remain level headed, but when the knife ran along a wound that had just begun to heal, he let out a pained hiss. He held his breath when she wiped away the blood with her finger, trying his best not to think about how much it stung.

"Rabbit?" She spoke before putting her finger to her lips.

"Yes, your majesty?" He huffed, trying his best not to watch her lick her finger clean.

"Have you found Alice yet?"

"No." He ground his teeth together when she ran the blade across his skin again.

The Queen moved closer to him, running her tongue along the second wound. Wilbur kept his eyes towards the windows, staring into the distance.

"Rabbit." she reached up and turned his head towards her. He felt disgusted by his blood on her lips. "How is your health?"

"Declining," he sighed, wishing she was asking that question out of concern and not selfishness. "At the same rate that is has been since the surgery."

"No change?" She wiped away the blood from her mouth, then took a few steps away from him to look out the window.

"My heart rate is lower. My lung capacity is low. I'm not healing as quickly as I should. The doctor suspects that I will be bedridden within the next year." He rubbed his sprained wrist.

"Another surgery is necessary, then?"

He looked down at his feet, then responded in a whisper, "Yes. Within the next month is the recommendation."

"Your chances of survival are?"

"There's a twenty percent chance that I will survive."

She turned around and smiled at him again. "That's a higher chance the initial."

"Yes, your majesty." He wondered if it would just be better to throw himself out of the window of the watchtower than to deal with yet another possibility of a very slow and painful death.

"Then I'll set a date for the end of the week." She pulled the fur sole she was wearing closer around herself. "After the wedding."

Wilbur couldn't help but rejoice in the fact that the woman before him would be dead before the time would come. He knew, though, that there was something more pressing that would occur if she were to die, and he had yet to consider what would have to be done after her death to deal with his current health situation.

"Your blood is much sweeter. I suspect your body is beginning to die." She approached him again. She collected the blood that began to run down his chest, noticing that the cuts themselves were only just beginning to clot. Her smile grew winder at his downcast face. "You should be proud to be part of such a beautiful experiment."

"The bloodletting isn't helping my condition." He responded, a bit irritated by her behavior.

"I don't care." The smile didn't disappear as she spoke. "The taste of rabbit blood is a delicacy that I refuse to be denied. Your body belongs to me, Rabbit. Don't forget that the only reason you are alive is because you had a change of heart." She laughed at the pun. Wilbur's face remained emotionless. "Cheer up. You should be thanking me for the heart in your chest, wouldn't you say, Jabberwocky?"

Wilbur flinched at the term, but responded in a rehearsed tone, as commanded. "Thank you, your majesty, for allowing me to serve as your Jabberwocky."

"Remember; a caged rabbit is much more useful than a dead rabbit. I wish you the best of luck in finding Alice. It would be a shame for you to die before her execution." And with that, she left.

Wilbur stared at the entrance of the watchtower, unsure of his emotions in that moment. He did feel relieved, though, when he saw March and Emma riding back into the Kingdom, just in time to avoid being spotted by the Queen of Hearts.