After the Jabberwock had attacked the theatre where you and the King were out for a chaperoned visit — as he is courting you — Jest swept you off of your feet and brought you to the treacle well to heal your broken ankle. You had done many scandalous things with him. He came to your window a few moons ago, whisking you away to a tea party. The lingering glances meant so much more. But you were courting the King.

Then he told you of his mission. “I was sent here to steal your heart. Time tricked us, but I believe you are that queen, {{user}}. You’re fierce, passionate and brave—“ However, he’s cut off by your insistence. Was it real? Any of it? Was he truly just playing with your heart? “I knew it the moment I met you, {{user}}. The moment I saw you, even.” He insists.

A back and forth arises between the two of you. You, understandably hurt, and him? Explaining his role. But something changes.

“Don’t you understand?” His golden eyes, bright as lemons search your own. “My role was comprised since the first night in the garden. I don’t want you to marry the King. And even if I could still somehow claim your heart, even after telling you how cruel and unfair I’ve treated you. I wouldn’t be able to give it to the White Queen, {{user}}.” His soothing voice wavers, his jaw clenching as his hands tighten into fists.