Chapter Twenty-Seven

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Mary Ann fidgeted with the ribbon in her hands, tying it into knots as she periodically glanced out the boarded up window. Her anxious eyes traveled to Hatta, who was stationed at the long table filled with broken teacups and saucers. He sat in his throne-like chair, stooped over a mess of beads and fabric. Glancing back to the window, her fingers trembled when she realized the ribbon could not longer be tied, as it was now a ball of knots.

"Mary Ann, when I said to keep watch, I did not mean you need to station yourself by the window," Hatta said without glancing up from his work. "I can hear your trembling from over here."

"Oh, I'm fine, don't worry," Mary Ann said.

"It's distracting. Stop it."

Mary Ann quickly tried to still her hands, but the concentrated effort only spread the trembling to the rest of her body. Hatta turned his eyes to her, and his cold stare was enough to force her to retreat from the window.

A wall of hats attracted her attention. As she examined each one carefully, her logical side gave way to the whimsy of such beautiful creations. Each one seemed to hold some sort of magic. It felt as though wearing them could give a person great abilities. Strength. Charm. Beauty.

Courage.

Oh, how she needed courage. Thinking of what was to follow this covert visit to the hat shop caused her trembling to start up again. She glanced over her shoulder at Hatta, but he was engrossed in his work and did not seem to notice. Turning her attention back to the hats, she wondered which one of them would give her the courage she so sorely lacked. Her eyes were drawn to a pink hat that had fallen to the floor. It was partially covered by a curtain that served as a door between rooms. She scooped it up to take a closer look. When she realized what it was, her heart began to quake, and she wished for something to tie into knots.

Her fingers hesitantly brushed against the soft, pink fabric as she remembered the last time she had seen the hat. It had been at the Turtle Days Festival. Memories flooded her senses. The salty sea air. The tiring preparation she and the other servants had put into the festivities. Gripping her beloved friend's hand while anxiously watching the judges sample their spiced pumpkin cake. She could almost see her sweet smile, the determination in her eyes, the excitement that exuded off of her at the prospect of winning that prize and buying Mr. Caterpillar's shop. How much hope they had had back then. How naive and innocent they had been.

If they had known that this was how it would end, would they have done it all again? Would Cath have still befriended her, knowing that she would betray her and ultimately bring about the death of the man she loved? Or would she have shut her out of her life, much as she had when she became the Queen?

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Mary Ann was careful not to sniff loudly as she wiped her nose with her sleeve, fearing that Hatta would hear her and chastise her for being so ridiculous and incompetent.

"Tea?"

Haigha stood before her, offering her a cup. Mary Ann smiled and took it, happy to have something with which to occupy her anxious fingers.

"Interesting that you chose that one," Haigha said as he looked at the hat. His ears laid flat, and his whiskers trembled, but he did that so often that Mary Ann wasn't sure if it was actually a reaction to the hat or just his go-to expression.

"Memories," Mary Ann said sadly. "I'm apparently more sentimental than I thought."

"No, I mean that these hats are magic. You don't just pick them at random. They call to you."

Mary Ann eyed the pink hat suspiciously. "Well, considering its former owner, I'm not surprised that it called to me."

"It must be something that you need. That's usually why they attract a person. They have something that you need."

Swallowing down a large sip of tea, Mary Ann tossed the hat aside. "I need the courage to betray a dear friend, not memories that bring me pain. The hat must be defective."

"My hats are not defective," Hatta called from the table. "The wearers often are, but not the hats."

Mary Ann did not respond. Instead, she wandered over to the window once more, peering outside. "How much longer will you be, Hatta? I can't believe that the Queen will allow this place to go unsupervised for very long."

"You cannot rush genius."

With a sigh, Mary Ann lapped the room once more, sipping at her tea. Her eyes passed over the plethora of millinery supplies scattered across the floor: thread, needles, scissors, buttons, tulle, jewels, and several black feathers.

She wondered what this shop must have looked like before Hatta went mad. Cath had told her of the bizarre tea party she had attended here. The strange guests, the ridiculous entertainment, the sense of wonder that filled the air. Looking at it now, it was hard to imagine anything wonderful taking place in the sad little room. If they succeeded in ending Cath's harsh rule, would the shop return to its former whimsy? Would everything finally return to normal?

No. Mary Ann knew that was impossible. Too much had been lost to return to normal. Hatta's sanity. Cath's heart. Jest's life.

Things would never be as they had once been. Mary Ann had come to accept this years ago. Besides, even if they did succeed in their rebellion, it certainly would not restore what she wanted more than anything in the world.

Her friendship with Cath.

She and Cath would never be friends again. When she told the Marquess and Marchioness about Jest, she had destroyed any chance of that. Even more so when she got herself caught by Sir Peter. And now, as she assisted in planning to overthrow the Queen, she knew there would never be a chance of rekindling that warm relationship.

Some things would always be lost forever.

Returning once more to the window, Mary Ann's hands took to tracing the rim of her teacup as she counted the ticking seconds coming from the smashed pocket watch hanging on a nearby hatrack.

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