Dinah stared out the window at the shifting Wonderland stars, her mind lingering on the dream. “Something light. Absolutely no wool.”
Dinah usually disliked feasts. After the endless and mind-numbing pageantry that was the seating of the lords and ladies, the highborn Cards, the squires, and the advisors, the royal family was finally seated behind the King’s Table, which was no ordinary piece of stone. The ends of the thick obsidian table curled at the tips, its razor-sharp points the source of more than a few bloodied limbs. The King of Hearts was seated on a raised platform near the middle of the table, his crown resting beside his enormous goblet. His blond mustache was already stained with cherry wine, giving him the look of a crazed cannibal. Dinah sat at his left, Vittiore on his right, looking luminous as always in a form-fitting gown the color of ripe blueberries. Her bright-blue eyes radiated out from her petite face, striking dead the heart of every man in Wonderland. Nary a Card could walk by her without being entranced by her ethereal presence.
The King sat back in his chair and gave a loud burp. “More wine!” he demanded.
Cheshire leaned over her father, hovering as always. He was whispering in her father’s ear, aiding as the King’s eyes darted around the room, taking in friends, foes, and fools. The squires poured more wine into his massive goblet and he downed it greedily with one hand, the other hand always resting on his Heartsword. Her father saw enemies in many places, in every house, in every distant and seemingly absurd lineage leading to the throne. Yurkei assassins were everywhere, he believed, each one trying to steal his crown. Emily had spilled to Dinah that rumors abounded about her father’s paranoia. That he slept with his Heartsword. That six guards stood watch while he slept. That he only truly trusted Cheshire.
Dinah pushed the oily emu breast around her plate, covering it with seeds and sprouts. She wasn’t hungry in the least, and by her count she would have to sit here for another four hours, a frozen smile plastered across her face. Vittiore gave a tinkling laugh at something her father said, and Dinah leaned over to give her a reprimanding look. Cheshire rewarded her with a pointed smile from above her father’s head. Dinah fought the urge to fling her plate at him as bile filled her throat. Her father had always hated her, since the day she was born, and Dinah was convinced that Cheshire’s poisonous tongue had more than a little to do with it. She could remember being very young—before her mother died—and seeing Cheshire for the first time. With black hair and eyebrows, Cheshire had been young, but just as devious looking. His hand had rested on the King’s shoulder, had squeezed hard as Dinah approached them both, toddling on little legs. She looked up into the King’s face with happy anticipation and saw nothing but simmering anger. He scared her; wasn’t this her father? The man who loved her mother? His blue eyes ran over her, searching for something he did not find. His mouth contorted first with confusion and then disgust. He pushed her back roughly.
“Remove her from my sight. Don’t bring her around anymore,” he said to Harris, and two Cards gently pulled her away from him. Dinah gave a scream and kicked the first one in the shin. The second Heart Card grabbed for her and she twisted away from him too.
Crying, she screamed for her father into empty air as Harris wrapped his arms around her waist to restrain her. “Dada! DADA! DADA!”
The King of Hearts walked past her without a second look, his black cloak brushing over her face as he passed from her, beyond her. Cheshire followed behind him, his head bowed. Dinah was short enough to see the satisfied smile stretched across his long face. Even as a young child, she suspected that somehow this clever sliver of a man had turned her father‘s mind against her, his child, the one he was supposed to love but never did. She smiled up at Cheshire, while vowing in her heart that the first thing she would do as Queen after her father passed away or she married would be to send Cheshire to the Black Towers forever. Of course, he had helped her the day Vittiore arrived by showing her the tunnels, but that was for his own purposes. With Cheshire, one could be sure of it. He was not a man to underestimate.