The young man, who had previously believed (up until recently) that he was someone named Madoc Chapeau leading a rather unadventurous life, was now trying to resuscitate a soggy stranger. He paused just for a brief moment to consider his options and weighed the consequences before he decided that manually breathing air back into this stranger’s lungs was worth the risk of any injury later to be suffered at the hands of the stranger upon resuscitation – the only alternative being certain death on her part if he did not.

One big breath of air in was all it took for all the non-air to come rushing back out. With a cough and a sputter Beatrice miraculously regained her consciousness and went back to breathing on her own without any further difficulty or consequence.

“Did you just-?” she began but Mad Hat was spared any retaliation by a cloud of confusion. “What just happened?” She rubbed the last of her make-up off.

“You fell into some eau-rapide… some sinking water.”

“Oh, of course that’s what it was.”

“Yes, of course. Come on, we need to dry off.” Mad Hat stood and shook out his wet hair. He collected the hat, coat, shirt, and shoes he had stripped off before his dive, and the rope he had used to pull himself and Beatrice back up, then offered her a hand.

“And how do people dry off here? Running around in circles I suppose.”

Mad Hat gave her a funny look. “No... by a fire.”

Annette stepped out of the Duchess’ boutique in a freshly tailored suit; hair and nails shorter, and make-up more natural looking. They took out a pocket watch and examined it briefly before returning it to its place in their vest.

Careful to avoid any soldiers canvasing the streets, Annette found themself in Kelebeck’s shop, same as the others had before them.

“A broken mirror?” Annette muttered to no one. “It can’t be…”

They canvased the scene, taking in the evidence of the previous events. The large pale rectangle on the wall, the shattered mirror of a smaller size, the revealed hiding place and the footprints left behind on the scattered pages strewn across the floor all told a disjointed story.

“Just what have you been up to, Mr. Chapeau…”

Beatrice stood behind a dark sheet draped over a low tree branch that was serving as a makeshift changing screen. She flung the articles of her wet costume over another branch and then peered around the edge of the cloth.

“Can I have my clothes back?”

“Your dress? I don’t think that’s appropriate forest attire, do you?”

“Well, is there anything else for me to wear?”

Mad Hat looked around. “My shirt?” He pointed to his dark dress shirt sitting next to his drying undershirt.

“And how is that any better?”

He shrugged. “It’s bigger.”

She was glad she had chosen to wear shaping shorts under her dress that night.

A little while later the two were sitting out to dry on opposite sides of a nice, warm fire. Despite the heat, Beatrice gave a noticeable shiver.

“Are you still cold? Should I get more timber?”

“No, I’m fine.” Mad Hat didn’t believe her so he shifted over to place his jacket around her shoulders. “Thanks.” He moved to go back to his side of the fire but she stopped him. “I mean... thank you for helping me and everything. I guess you’ve sort of saved my life a couple times already.”

He gave a shrug.

“I still don’t get why though,” she frowned.

“Neither do I, really. I must be… I dunno.”

“Well, I really do appreciate it, I-” her voice stuck in her throat as a wave of emotion rushed over her.

This took Mad Hat a little by surprise.

“I just-!” She buried her face in her hands. Mad Hat gave her a hesitant pat on the back. “I just wish I wasn’t so stupid! Then I wouldn’t even be in this mess!”

She looked up at him, but before he could think of anything to say she changed the subject.

“What’s this?” she took a gentle hold of the thin cord that hung around his neck. A piece of polished stone was attached to it.

“A family heirloom.”

“It’s broken.”

He smiled faintly. “It’s supposed to be like that.”

“How come?”

“It’s a Match Marker.”

“What’s that?” She turned it over.

“It’s an old tradition,” he said hesitantly. “Whichever fair maiden finds the missing piece is the one I’m meant to be with.”

Beatrice raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And how much stock do you put in this thing?”

“How’d you mean?”

She let go. “I mean, what if the maiden isn’t so fair? Or, what if the maiden isn’t a maiden? Would you still think they’re the one for you?”

“It worked for my parents, and their parents… It’s worked for centuries,” he shrugged.

“Now it’s your turn?” She still looked skeptical.

He considered something for a moment. “When I was twelve I was given this and told to throw the other piece into the ocean, just as every man in my family before me has done. It’s always come back.”

“Just the men?”

“My family is a very straight line. Each generation bears one son only, and all women are married into it. Eventually it will be my turn to carry things on.”

“I guess I just can’t see you settling down, is all. You know, with all your tarts.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Oh yeah? Well, what if you never got the piece back? Would you just carry on with whatever it is you’re doing now?”

“I suppose.”

“And it seems like this other person has to put in an awful lot more effort in trying to find you while you’re just waiting around for fate to intervene. And what if they find this thing and don’t know what to do with it? What if they don’t even like you? They didn’t sign up for this. Or, what if you fall in love and then someone else shows up with the other half? I mean, what if-”

He cut her off. “The point is to have faith it in. That everything will work itself out. Whatever happens is what’s supposed to happen.”

Beatrice sobered quickly. “Is all this supposed to happen too?”

Mad Hat frowned. “I guess you sort of have to believe in all of it or none of it, right?”

Beatrice wiped at her moistening eyes and the violet tints came sliding out, revealing her natural irises again. She gave a half-hearted laugh.

“I’m sorry,” Mad Hat offered softly.

“You’re sorry?”

He shrugged. “I was sort of wishing an adventure would come my way. I’m sorry you had to get kidnapped for me to have one.”

“This really is real?”

He smiled. “Yes, and you have to admit - it is an adventure.”