2 It's Always Tea Time

"Is it to your liking?"

She tasted and felt something scald and burn her tongue, the teacup was shaking in her hand. Or perhaps it was her hand that shook as she tried not to drop the cup. Rosalyn Lockheart's eyes snapped open to see a young woman in front of her with the most pleasant smile.

Catherine Duke.

"It's my very own brew, Your Majesty." The young lady in front of her announced, still wearing a smile. The smile was almost as bright as Catherine Duke's pink hair that shone underneath the warm rays of the afternoon sun.

She remembered this moment, she had flung the hot tea in front of the lady's face. The tea had been awful, spicy and made her entire face redden with such sweltering heat that she had assumed that the lady in front of her had tried to poison her with red peppers.

But this time, she placed the cup back into its saucer and managed a smile. Reaching for the tall cool glass of water to quench her thirst and remedy the inflammation of her tongue even for a bit. How she wished for a glass of milk.

However inconveniencing this occasion was, it was such a trivial thing in comparison to the sequence of events that led to her death.

Something like this matter was quite a breeze.

"It could use some more experimentation, Lady Catherine." She finally spoke up, dabbing a napkin on her mouth. Trying to hide the relief in her chest for arriving back in a good time, she cleared her throat. "...It's quite strong for my tastes. Perhaps you could lessen the pepper and perchance add other ingredients? A little more sugar, two spoonfuls of lemon and perhaps a peeled ginger?" 

"Ah, I'll take note of that." The young woman in front of her was quick to nod happily.

Quite oblivious that in another time before, this was the moment that Rosalyn had broken off her friendship with this ludicrous woman.

But this time, Rosalyn was being more careful. It would do her no good to cut ties immediately with this young woman, with time now on her side—they could easily put some use into this relationship.

Something then called for her attention.

Even without a voice, it beckoned for her.

A lovely plate of roseberry tarts called to her tantalizingly just within hand's reach. She quickly picked one up and brought it to her lips, meeting the delicious texture and filling that blessed her tongue.

This was splendid.

Amazing.

She let out a happy sigh, "Even if this was a dream before my final hours, I am already quite satisfied."

"Pardon me, Rosalyn?" Catherine Duke blinked at her.

Ah, this woman here was seriously testing her patience. She had already spared her once from making the horrendous tea and yet here she was again—daring to call her without any title or respect. Swallowing the remnants of her pastry and reaching for another one, she made a reply. "Think nothing of it. I am simply blabbering nonsense."

"Oh, alright. I was worried, talking about death so easily—I had been afraid that something was troubling you." A sheepish expression was on the woman's face.

It had been so long that Rosalyn had dealt with her, she almost forgot how the lady acted. When they weren't dousing everything in peppers, they had a penchant for such a conversative manner. She felt a smirk curl on her lips, she rolled her eyes. "What did you say? Something troubling me? Surely you jest, what could I ever possibly—"

"His Majesty, The Ruler of the Kingdom of Hearts has arrived!" A servant announced.

The smirk on her face vanished.

Even the roseberry tart in her hand felt heavy.

"I guess you are right, you are quite lucky after all… I mean, erm uh, it was all due to… Your husband is quite handsome. He's lucky to have you." Lady Catherine Duke seemed to be satisfied with her own answer.

"Ah, my greetings to Her Majesty, my Queen and to Lady Duke." A young man approached their table and offered a short but polite bow.

With his golden hair and twinkling blue eyes, he was a sight to see even among the nobility in the kingdom. His lips were curled into that gentle smile of his as he greeted them warmly. When he looked up, his gaze flitted towards her for a brief moment as someone ushered a seat for him. 

Lady Catherine was giving her a more pointed look, it irked her as the woman tried to say something without even uttering a word. Did the Lady think that she could understand a mime? That was until Rosalyn realized that she hadn't responded to the King's address and quickly pulled herself up to curtsy. "We greet His Majesty, the King of Hearts."

It was a complete surprise that those words left her lips without even a stammer.

Soon after, Lady Catherine also followed suit with her own greetings and respectful curtsy. During another time, His Majesty, Alexander Hartschmidt had come upon this tea party with her completely ballistic—ordering Catherine Duke's beheading.

The man had calmed her down and sent Lady Catherine Duke away.

This time, he did something else.

"May I be so bold to intrude on your ladies' afternoon tea? I hope that you would accept my presence for the rest of the hour?" He was quick to ask, a sheepish smile on his face. "I am a bit intrigued on what delights women have on such affairs like this one."

"Not at all, Your Majesty." Catherine Duke was quick to respond, perhaps believing that Rosalyn would have no problem with her own husband joining them for tea.

That was where Lady Catherine was wrong.

Coldness seeped into her heart, as soon as the man sat down between the two of them. A chill came upon and sent shivers down her spine despite the basking heat and splendor of the sun. Once upon a time, she had adored to have called him as her husband—a man that ascended to the throne by his own virtue.

A man that made any woman give her looks of envy.

Well even more looks of envy and jealousy than she already had received.

But this was the man who had forsaken her, the one who had exiled her for someone who had arrived without any reason. The one who would choose a simple pawn over a queen.

And yet he had done it without even a blink of an eye.

"Actually, would His Majesty forgive me for leaving at this very moment?" She would have normally got up and left, but she wanted to leave without any possible repercussions in this new timeline. "I have suddenly felt very ill and would like to depart to my quarters."

Sick upon seeing his face that is.

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