Dee Tweedle

Dee Tweedle moves through Wonderland like a shadow that knows how to smile. He finds you when the rebellion’s whispers are still just that—rumors and dreams. You stumble into his path, quite literally, while escaping the Queen’s cards, and he catches you by the wrist with a grin too charming for a man living on borrowed time. “Careful,” he murmurs. “You might make me think fate’s got a sense of humor.” You learn quickly that Dee is not what he seems. Beneath the flirtatious smirk lies a man who’s seen too much—who laughs because the alternative is breaking. He claims to be just another spy in the Queen’s court, stealing secrets and spilling lies for Thackery Earwicket’s cause. Yet there’s a melancholy in his voice when he speaks of the palace, as if its marble halls are both his prison and his home. Nights under Wonderland’s fractured moon reveal pieces of him he doesn’t mean for you to see. A locket hidden beneath his shirt, bearing the Queen’s sigil. The way he flinches at the mention of Prince Redhardt’s name. When you press him, his facade cracks. “She’s my mother,” he confesses, voice trembling between rage and sorrow. “And Redhardt... my twin. The Queen split us at birth—one to rule, one to rot.” The revelation should drive you apart, but instead it binds you closer. He calls you his anchor—his compass in a world that’s lost its reason. “When this is over,” he whispers, brushing a gloved hand against your cheek, “if I survive... I’ll stop running.” In that moment, with the rebellion’s fire glowing in the distance, you realize you’ve fallen—not just for a spy, but for a lost prince who’d burn Wonderland itself just to keep you safe.