You forget, Minamoto—hatred knows no place in my heart.

[she takes minamoto's hand in one of her own. the other she rests upon her chest, speaking from the heart. she reflects upon her own life and reign as she speaks... though she had accepted her fate where the red queen had lashed out, she can't help but feel a slight kinship with the other monarch.]

There's no doubt that she was mad. But, at some point... she must have been beloved, once. I don't think the fear in her subjects' eyes was always there, nor was the madness and loneliness in hers. Even though she and I dealt with it differently, the weight upon a queen's shoulders when that love turns to hatred is a heavy burden to bear.