Of course, of course, her heart sang, I will see you every day! She gave a shrug.
“Good. Before I forget, I have something for Charles. Can you give this to the Mad Hatter himself?” He handed Dinah a tiny wooden seahorse. He had whittled it himself; there was truly nothing Wardley couldn’t master.
She turned it over in her hand, admiring his craftsmanship. “He’ll love it.”
Wardley wheeled Corning around and out into the winter air. “See you tomorrow!” he declared. She smiled and waved as he joined the ranks of Heart Cards, marching in silent formation toward the courtyard, their steps echoing in harsh, single notes. Xavier Juflee patted him hard on the back as they galloped to the front of the line.
Dinah tiptoed out of the stable area, back into the circular labyrinth. As she rounded the endless curves and switchbacks of stalls, she allowed a smile to play across her face. One year ago, in the bright Wonderland sun, Wardley had given Dinah her first kiss, a light brush of his lips over her top one. They had been under the Julla Tree, a massive red skeleton with silky mulberry leaves and buzzing black fruit that opened and closed every hour. As children, they had climbed the Julla Tree hundreds of times, to play Tribes and Cards, or to spy on the ladies’ bathing quarters. Now, they escaped to the leafy shelter to have a minute of stillness with each other—Wardley from his endless training, and Dinah from her lessons and, sometimes, her father.
It had been summer then, and Dinah was sixteen years old. The lunch trumpets had sounded from the Royal Apartments and Dinah had reluctantly dropped the fruit she had been snacking on and slipped down the tree. Her ankle twisted at the bottom and she fell, cutting her leg open on the tree’s thorny roots—fat fingers that twisted up from the ground to protect the tree. Wardley followed her and gently wiped the blood from her leg with his hand.
“Are you okay?” he’d asked, holding her leg in his large hand. Dinah gave him a brave smile, though she felt like sobbing. She didn’t want Wardley to see her cry, even though he had several times—like when Vittiore had a costume ball thrown in her honor, when Harris began teaching Vittiore in the evenings instead of Dinah, or when her father had forgotten to send her tea on All Tea’s Day.
Wardley wiped his hand on the Julla Tree’s fuzzy trunk, looked deeply into her black eyes, and kissed her. His lips were cool and soft, and his mouth tasted like lemons. Dinah leaned in, but he had pulled back, resting his hands on her flaming cheeks, his eyes filled with curiosity as he took in her face. He was trying to understand something; she could see it in his eyes. Dinah gasped, purely out of shock at the sudden heat rushing through her veins, and Wardley gave an easy shrug. “Just wanted to see what it felt like.” He swung himself back into the Julla Tree with a laugh, and Dinah walked, dazed and giddy, toward the castle.
A year had passed since then, and Dinah could still feel the touch of his lips upon hers as she wound her way out of the stables. Layers of pink snow dusted the swirling gold spires of Wonderland Palace, and the entire kingdom seemed to hold its breath with a still glow. A large group of Spade Cards was lounging near the red-glass doors that led into the palace. Dinah pulled her cloak over her head, hoping to hide her face, but her lips gave an uncertain jerk as she grew closer to them. They stood with an exaggerated ease, snickers escaping their blackened mouths. She HATED the Spades.
“Your HIGH-ness.” They gave slight bows.
As she passed, she heard one of them murmuring under his breath: “The King’s daughter, disgrace to the throne. Looks nothing like her mother.”
“Recard,” whispered another.
Dinah’s heart was flapping wildly now. An uncontrollable rage started at her fingertips and worked its way into her chest. She stumbled, and the tiny wooden seahorse that Wardley had given her dropped from her hand. It rolled to a rest against the steel-tipped boot of a Spade.
“Aye, what’s this?” He bent down and picked it up, the figure minuscule against his large hand. “A toy? Aren’t yeh a bit old for toys, Princess?”
“It’s a seahorse, and it’s MINE. Please give it back.” Dinah raised her eyes to meet his, hoping her trembling lip wouldn’t betray the shame she felt. “Please.”
The Spade gave Dinah a hard look. “Come and get it, Yer Majesty.”
His eyes were a mottled gold, she noted with surprise. It was such a stark color against his black-on-black uniform, his long gray hair, and the black symbol of a spade tattooed underneath his right eye. The other Spades remained motionless, half-bowed, as Dinah took a timid step toward him. She started to extend her left hand for the seahorse and then thought better of it. I am a Princess of Wonderland, she told herself. Remember what Harris says. Someday, I will be Queen.
“No.”
The Spades jerked their heads up with curiosity.