She felt a heat rush through her body, warming her to the tips of her toes. Wardley always made her feel that way.
“What are you doing out here on this freezing morning?”
Dinah gave a shrug. “It’s not that cold. You’ve never been a winter person. I like winter. Here, I brought you warm tarts.”
Dinah removed the steaming pastries from the folds of her cloak. The raspberry jam had already leaked through the cheesecloth, and its scent filled the yard.
Wardley licked his lips. “Oh Dinah, you are too good. This is just what I needed. You’re incredible, you know that?” He took the pastry from her hand and shoved it eagerly into his mouth in one terribly messy bite. Powdered sugar dusted his top lip. Dinah smiled shyly as she circled a pink heart in the snow with her boot. Seeing Wardley was sometimes the only happy part of her entire day.
“My father came to see me this morning.”
“And he was horrible to you, as always?” As Wardley spoke, puffs of tart flew out of his mouth and floated down onto Corning. Dinah gave Wardley an amused smile.
“Must you always eat as if you were starving?” She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it up to him. He wiped his mouth and smiled. “Sorry. If you must know, I am always starving.”
“You know my father—he would have to speak to me to be horrible. He came in, had some angry words with Harris, and stormed out, but not before he threw my tray of food on the floor.”
Wardley stopped eating and narrowed his eyes. “And then you gave the tarts to me?”
Dinah smiled, her white teeth gleaming against the pink snow. “No. Those are fresh from the kitchen. I threw away the food—well, rather, Emily did.”
That was the short version of the story. Really, Dinah cowered in a corner while her father shouted at Harris all the things that Dinah was doing wrong and the depth of his disappointment in her. She wasn’t pretty, she was stupid, she wasn’t a lady, she wasted her time daydreaming and exploring the castle, she was horrible at croquet, she was unfit to rule. . . . As the King struck Harris with his huge open hand, Dinah withered onto the floor. When the King turned on her, she covered her face and spun away. Her father left with a disgusted sneer. His rages came more and more frequently now, it seemed. When she was a child, he had always been cold and distant, but begrudgingly polite. Now, he openly hated her in front of her servants. The King of Hearts was still cordial in public, but his seething loathing was like a black undercurrent, sucking the color out of every party and public gathering of the royal family. Dinah avoided him at all costs, and even Harris and Emily had learned to stay far away from the King of Hearts and his fiery temper.
Back in the stables, Dinah sat down on an overturned bucket with a huff. “I hate him. He’s terrible.”
Wardley dismounted his horse with one smooth kick of his leg and wrapped his free arm around Dinah, the other holding fast to his practice sword. “I know your father isn’t a great father all the time.”
“Or ever,” replied Dinah sullenly. “He’s not the way a father is supposed to be. He’s not anything like your father.”
Wardley gave an understanding smile. Unlike Dinah, he adored his gentle father. “I know. But the King must love you; I’m sure he does . . . in his own horrible way. Ruling Wonderland isn’t for the fainthearted, and the crown weighs heavy, you know that. You are his daughter, his only viable heir, and someday he will see you for the. . . .” He seemed at a loss for words. He patted her cheek lightly, and Dinah stopped breathing. “For the fierce woman that you will become. The Queen of Hearts. A good and just queen, and a doting sister. I see you growing stronger each day, and someday he will see that.”
“Someday,” she grumbled, “is not today.”
Wardley jumped up and drew his sword. “Then you should tell him so. Today! I command it.”
Dinah stood and grabbed a broom handle leaning against the stable door and shook off her black cloak. She took a fighting stance and swung her broomstick at Wardley. He parried and leapt to the side.
“I will! I’ll tell him, ‘Father! You are getting slow and mean in your old age. You are no longer the warrior you once were. Give me my kingdom already, you beast! Then I will defeat the Yurkei, once and for all!’”
Their swords rang together, wood on steel, through the stables and out into the yard. It was a complicated and perfected dance, one they had done thousands of times before. Wardley spun and easily deflected her downswing as Dinah caught him lightly on the hip with the side of the broom handle.
“Ow! That was hard!” he laughed.