Dinah sighed. “You may.”
“Part of being a good ruler is the constant education and finesse of the mind. The past should govern how you will shape your rule. Learn from the mistakes of your predecessors, glean understanding from the history of the Royal Line of Hearts, and understand the lay of your land—and how it came to be so. Now tell me, the Wonders of Wonderland are. . . .”
“The Sky Curtain, the Twisted Wood, the Ninth Sea, Wonderland Palace, and the Yurkei Mountains.”
Harris sat back, satisfied. “You know these well.”
Dinah did know them well. In fact, she had been studying up on her land every evening as she lay in bed. In the two months that had passed since her journey into Wonderland’s depraved prison system, Dinah was reading more than she ever had before, late into the night. She would do anything to keep the memories and dreams of the Black Towers away. Still, no matter how mentally exhausted she made herself, her last thoughts before sleeping would be Faina Baker’s grim face as a black root twisted its way into her mouth. More often than not, her dreams were dark and demented—not unlike the towers themselves—and she would wake drenched in sweat and flooded with panic, clawing at her own mouth.
While her learning had increased tenfold, her patience with lessons and the daily routine of the castle had ceased to exist. Suddenly she could not stand the long introductions, the formality of the court, the ridiculous routines and practices that took up more than half the day. For gods’ sake, she thought, taking a gulp of tea, it takes me two hours or so to eat breakfast and get dressed. So much could be done in that time.
As if he could read her thoughts, Harris began picking up the books and putting them back on the bookshelves that lined Dinah’s walls. “I see Your Majesty is in no mood for lessons today. Are you sure that nothing is bothering you? You have been sullen and withdrawn lately, which is not very princess-like behavior, especially with your coronation coming up in a few weeks.”
Dinah simply shook her head. She could tell no one about what she had seen. This kind of news would surely kill Harris, who had slowed down in recent years. And while she trusted her twitchy tutor, she loved him too, and she would never drag him into something dark.
“Thank you, Harris. I’m just tired. And I long to begin my rule.”
“Do not wish that too early, Your Majesty. Once you begin it, you may long for your childhood days once again.”
I’ll never have those again, thought Dinah, not now that I know what lingers beyond the palace. Dinah stood up and brushed off her maroon-and-white-striped dress. “I think I’m going to visit Charles this morning. Please tell the servants to pass the message along.”
Harris clapped his hands. “That sounds like a brilliant idea. Please tell Lucy and Quintrell that I send my regards.”
Dinah nodded absently as she fiddled with the small bird in her hair. Emily walked up behind her and clipped it firmly to the side of Dinah’s head. “That looks lovely, My Lady.”
Dinah made a rumbling sound in her throat. No matter how much she tried, she could not bring herself to care about Wonderland fashion.
She walked briskly through the palace. Everywhere she went, her pace was now brisk, now that she had two Heart Cards trailing her every move. This is how it feels to be Queen, she told herself, so I better get used to it. The click-clack of boots behind her reminded her with every step that she was never truly alone.
Quintrell was waiting for her outside Charles’s door. “My Queen!” he bowed.
“Not yet,” smiled Dinah. “How is he today?” she asked.
“Strangely melancholy,” he replied, relieving the Cards and ushering Dinah inside. “This last week he has not been himself. His mood is one of despair, and most of the time Lucy finds him weeping in corners or screaming at the walls. He seems fascinated with stars and shadows, though his work has been focused solely on the concept of shadows, all black and shades of gray. It’s hard for us to see him this way. It has resulted in some of the most beautiful hats I’ve ever seen, though.” He let out a defeated sigh. “The Mad Hatter has never been more exceptional in his talent, but our Charles is strangely detached.”
Dinah rested her hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me. I’m so grateful that Charles has such loving servants.”
“Wait until you see what he has made for your coronation.”
One month, thought Dinah. Only one more month until I will rule beside my father.
Charles’s crooked quarters were more disarrayed than normal. Dinah waded through ankle-deep hats to reach the stairwell on which Charles precariously sat. One leg dangled off into nothing, and he seemed intensely focused on a tooth he held in one hand. Dinah winced.