Dinah noticed the dagger that sat innocently in front of him—his weapon of choice, at the ready if she should attack him. Unmoved by her presence, he licked the tips of his fingers.
“Mmm . . . this one is delicious.” His voice jarred Dinah back from the dark paralyzed place in her mind, and her hand brushed the tip of her dagger. His eyes followed her fingers. “I wouldn’t throw that, Princess. I believe you seek answers more than you seek revenge, at least at this moment. Trust me when I say I can give you both.”
Dinah narrowed her eyes and pulled her dagger out of its sheath. Her voice finally clawed its way up her throat. “Tell me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you where you sit,” she hissed. “Tell me why I shouldn’t slit you open right here, and then dine on these tarts as your blood pools over the table. I’d do it happily.”
Cheshire’s eyes sparkled as he looked through her. “Tarts and blood are not complementary on the palate. Also, it’s bad manners, or so your mother should have taught you.”
My mother. How dare he? Dinah was on him in a second, grabbing his neck and holding the blade of the dagger against his main artery. She yanked his head back by his greasy black hair. Tarts spilled from their elaborately orchestrated places as his legs slammed against the corner of the table. He twisted suddenly, and Dinah loosened her grip on the dagger, wary of cutting into his thin neck skin. She did want answers—but she also wanted him to feel the fear that could overcome a person in seconds, like diving into icy water. He twisted quickly and furiously, and she pulled back her blade. Soon he was behind her, pressing his body against hers, his hand not on his dagger but wrapped around her mouth. She had made a fatal mistake.
His mouth brushed her ear. “Does this feel familiar, Princess?” he whispered. Then he lowered his voice significantly, and Dinah felt chills rush up her spine. “Perhaps from the night I saved your life and sent you running with a bag strapped across your shoulders? The night when I told you to go now, and yet, like an idiot, you visited Charles’s chamber instead?” Dinah’s body went weak. Cheshire was the stranger who had saved her life? She stopped struggling and stood stunned in the clearing.
Cheshire slowly removed his hand from her mouth and tucked a hair back behind her ear. “Now, Dinah, be a good girl and sit down. I have much to tell you, and you look famished. Have some tarts and tea.”
Her body shaking, Dinah let him lead her to a chair at the other end of the table. She still clutched her dagger, and Cheshire made no attempt to take his own—an elaborate show to give the illusion that she was in control, no doubt. At the other end of the table, he settled into his chair and took a sip of tea as he straightened the tablecloth and teacups.
“Now. What kind would you like? Youthberry with lavender? Honeyed Fig? How about a Scarlet Cloud?”
Dinah stared at him, hatred simmering in her eyes.
“That’s the one.”
Dinah found her voice, more scared than she would have liked it.
“Did you come here to kill me, Cheshire?”
“Oh, no, no. Hmm. Where shall I begin? I have so much to tell you, but I guess we’ll start at the very beginning, since most of the things I dabble in start with me anyway.”
He opened a small porcelain container and began delicately stirring the dry tea leaves inside.
“I was born poor in Verrader, a small fishing village by the Western Slope. I grew up dreaming of the day when I would leave that sorry little town, with its brutal children who would rise up to be nothing more than fishmongers and innkeepers.
“On the day I turned sixteen, I took my father’s horse and rode east for Wonderland Palace and the life that I had dreamed of. Upon my arrival, I immediately found work in a jewelry shop. I’m good with numbers, books and things that can be, how shall we say, manipulated? The accountant that had been there before me suddenly fell ill, and I took his place at the shop.” He paused. “These are rare tea leaves, brought straight from the palace. All the best for you, my dear.”
Using tiny silver tongs, he removed the tea leaves and spread them out on a thin muslin cloth. Dinah kept her eyes on his dagger, her heart thudding against her chest.
Cheshire shook his head. “Anyway, within a year, I became well-known in Wonderland proper for being a man who got what he wanted. I caught the eye of an established banker, who put me in charge of everything when his main account man disappeared. Two years later I was the third-highest-ranking Diamond in the Cards, and I lived a life of counting and calculating. Wonderland Palace had heard word of me and hired me on at the king’s bank.” Cheshire paused to take a sip of his tea and motioned at the cake in the middle of the table. “Please help yourself.” Dinah reached forward slowly, and then with a shove of her hand, pushed the cake off the table into the grass. Cheshire looked exasperated.
“It’s not poison, Your Highness, but I won’t fault you for being cautious. You’re smart, like me. I mean, gods know people have tried to poison me over the years. Adorable.” He took a breath and gave a deceptive smile, his unnaturally white teeth glowing in the darkness.
He folded up the muslin, the tea leaves, and the honeycomb, and crumpled them in his long hands, squeezing and kneading the leaves as they crunched inside. Once he was finished, he siphoned the dust into a tiny metallic cylinder before dropping it into a white porcelain mug, it’s handles dotted with cream and pink pearls.
“My dear, I apologize if this next part is hard for you to hear, but it’s something you must know. One night, I was invited to attend the ball following the Royal Croquet Game. You know it well. I too share your distaste for such things, but I see them as necessary for social climbing. That night, a radiant young woman was visiting the court. She was from Ierladia, and rumor had it that she was the king’s bride to be, the future queen. Her name was Davianna.”
Her heart stopped.
“No.” Dinah cringed. “No, no.”