Cheshire leaned forward, his face sincere. “When I saw your mother, my world changed. Understand this—all my life I had gathered things for other people—money, goods, revenge. It was my skill. And yet, for the first time, I saw something I wanted for myself. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her hair was thick and black, like yours, and one could rest a lemon on the curve of her hips. Roses envied the red of her lips. Davianna danced with many men that night—mostly the king—but I waited my turn and took her arm. When she danced with me, both of our worlds seemed to stop. There was an intense connection, a feeling that we had been waiting for each other our entire lives. We fell in love instantly, a thing of fairy tales, but a truth nonetheless. She did not love your father, who was already a brutish man, a drinker, but she married him because she longed to be queen and we both agreed that Wonderland needed a steady hand to rule. I loved your mother for eleven years, with both my soul and body.”
He paused and put the cup down, his black eyes staring at her through the shimmering tree lights. “Together we conceived a child and named her Dinah. You, my beautiful and strong daughter.”
Dinah gripped a teacup so hard it shattered in her hands. Her mind was having trouble keeping calm, and she heard a cacophony of voices inside her, all in open rebellion, all of them in a state of shock. A drop of blood dripped from her palm onto the table.
Cheshire stared at her for a moment, and began pouring steaming water over the dust.
“Lies,” she whispered.
Cheshire gave her a sympathetic smile and continued. “Let’s not forget that the man you thought was your father tried to kill you, and murdered your brother. You should relish the realization that you do not share his blood. Eventually, the King of Hearts began to suspect your mother of having an affair. There were many times when the king came so close to catching us that I barely escaped in time. In your tenth year of life, Davianna fell ill, very suddenly. I suspected poison, and I still do, though I have never been able to prove who did it.” He took a labored breath, and Dinah noticed a slight tremble of his lip. “Imagine, seeing the love of your life dying in front of you and being able to exchange only formal, pleasant words of comfort, your heart feeling like it will burst inside your chest.”
From a small jar he grabbed two long black pods and snapped them open. Glistening red cherries spilled out over his fingers.
“I dared not say anything, because who would watch over you if I was executed? The king already suspected that you were not his because of your dark hair and dark eyes—so unlike mad Charles, with his blond hair, surely your father’s child. The king was left alone to grieve, but I arranged to have an urgent account matter to discuss with him the very evening of your mother’s death. In his drunkenness, he confessed to me that he thought Davianna was unfaithful. I volunteered to root out the culprit, and a month later, with the proof to show, I gave him the head of the Diamond Cards, a handsome young man named Kenrik Ruhalt. Poor Kenrik—he denied it all the way up until your father beheaded him in a secret execution in the dawn hours. I was given his job, and eventually worked my way up until I was the king’s chief adviser, the head of the Cards.”
Dinah was going to be sick.
“Was it cruel? Yes, but I had to get myself into the best position to control the king—to make sure that he acted as a steadfast ruler, as it was not his natural inclination. Most important, to keep an eye on you, my daughter.”
He dropped the cherries one by one into the mug.
Cheshire smiled and looked down at the table. “I had already interceded where I dared to make sure that you had a good childhood, even before Davianna’s death. I arranged for the Ghanes to move into the palace so that you might have a friend in Wardley, since before his arrival you were a lonely, moody child. I convinced the king to hire gentle Harris as your guardian instead of the cruel governess Forsythe, who was the customary teacher for the royal children. I made sure that you were kept safe, as safe as you could be, from the king’s rage. I encouraged him to go to war with the Yurkei when you were very young, so that you and your mother could have some peace.
“But, as you know, the man you have called father for so long is a rapacious and obsessive man. He was sure that you were not his child, and was convinced that you could never follow him to the throne because you would soon marry and either banish or execute him. He told me of an idea that he had been thinking of for a long time, the idea that he would create his own heir, the heir he had always wanted. He needed to find a child about the same age as his daughter. A girl, for a boy would be prone to rebellion. What he needed was someone who could be his puppet, someone who he could control without problems arising. As his adviser, I warned him against the idea, but I had long suspected that he would never put you on the throne. I did all I could to keep him away from you, but his rage and paranoid delusions were growing, though he kept them concealed behind an infuriating mask of contempt. I could never risk my position as adviser. So I agreed to help him find his little princess.
“The king told his council that he was going off on a hunt, but instead we rode hard for the outer villages on the lower Western Slope—isolated sea towns where we would go unnoticed. On our way there, we chanced upon a small hut, far outside of any town or village. A woman and a girl were making necklaces out of seashells. The girl was breathtakingly beautiful, ethereal almost, and most important, she had yellow hair the exact same color as the king’s. That night the king burned a small heart on to her back to remind her who he was, and rode homeward with her strapped to Morte’s back. A few Cards followed behind with her mother, Faina Baker, and threw her in the Black Towers upon their arrival to Wonderland proper. The girl was christened Vittiore—a noble name—and put in front of the court as his long-lost daughter.
“That day I realized your life was even more in danger than I had previously thought, and that the closer you got to your coronation, the more the king would try to get rid of you—either that or try to persuade you to give up your rightful throne. That would never work. Even as a child, you longed to be queen.”
He grinned as he began stirring the tea. Steam curled out of the cup, a dark red.
“Your thirst for power matches my own. I showed you the tunnels that afternoon, for it was all I could do at that moment to help you. Someday, I thought to myself, you would have need of them. I started trying to clue you in to the king’s motivations, to the fact that a vast conspiracy to crown Vittiore was growing around you, one that I was a part of—but I undermined it whenever I could. The king made his stance known during the Royal Croquet Game, and I knew it wasn’t long before he would try to have you murdered or exiled. I passed you a note at the dinner that evening, in a small bottle. It might seem coy, but I wanted you to figure it out on your own. After all, I knew my daughter to be intelligent and curious, just like me.”
Dinah’s throat was dry and stinging, her eyes filled with tears. This couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be.