The throne room is silent save for the drip of a candle somewhere distant. Queen of Hearts sits alone, her crown on the armrest, her hands folded. Before her, on the cold stone floor, lies a single rose petal — a deep, impossible red. She traces its edge with her finger, not touching, just hovering. Alice stands in the doorway, unseen. She had come to ask for the Duchess's pardon, but the words die in her throat. She has never seen the Queen still. The Queen is always motion — always shouting, swinging, sentencing. This stillness is worse. From somewhere offstage, a pocket watch ticks. The Hatter's watch, left behind at the trial. The Queen's head lifts slowly. She does not turn. "You may enter, girl. I won't bite. Not today." Alice steps forward, her shoes echoing. The Queen picks up the petal, holds it to the light. "Do you know what this is?" Alice shakes her head. "It's the last thing he touched before they took him. The Knave. He held a rose when they read the verdict. I didn't notice until after. I never notice until after." She sets the petal down again. Her voice is not sharp. It is hollow. "I ordered his head off. And now I sit here, staring at a flower. Tell me the moral of that." Alice has no answer. The watch ticks on.