Dinah walked forward and entered the keep, her men following behind.
Inside the fortified towers above the Great Hall was a sparsely decorated room, stocked for a siege. Crates of food and weapons leaned against the walls, which were lined with Heart Cards and dozens of men from noble houses. The king’s council stood around a raised platform that held a makeshift throne. Atop it sat the King of Hearts. He had aged greatly in the year since Dinah had seen him. His shoulder-length blond hair was streaked with patchy gray. The king’s massive body, once stout and sturdy, had grown soft and portly. His arms remained huge and veiny, though, and Dinah could see muscles bulging beneath his armor. His face was blotchy and red, his blue eyes bloodshot and narrowed.
The King of Hearts clutched his Heartsword against his chest and barely raised his chin when Dinah and her men came through the door. She immediately understood that this was part of a performance, in which she had a starring role. He would not stand for her presence, a sign that she wasn’t the queen in his eyes. To him, she was no more than a commoner. The crowd parted silently as Dinah stepped toward the platform.
The king gave her a condescending smile. “I thought I heard my wicked daughter’s voice. And here I thought you were dead. Instead I see you’ve come to steal my crown, you ungrateful wretch.”
Dinah forced herself to look straight into his face, though her legs gave a shake underneath her. The King of Hearts—her father, or so she had believed—could always scare her, destroy her. Not today. Today she would not let him pull her apart from the inside out and turn every good thing to dust. Dinah struggled to keep her confidence, her heart pounding so loudly she feared the entire room could hear.
“Not steal. I’ve come to claim the throne that is mine by birth. My mother was Queen Davianna, and so the crown should rightfully pass to me instead of Vittiore, who has no claim on the throne. I come here to repair the land that you have broken, to reap justice for all the innocents that you have murdered or imprisoned, and to free the Yurkei people from your greedy oppression.”
Fury passed over the king’s face and he stood, his Heartsword glinting in the late-afternoon light. His voice rose to a roar. “You shall not speak treason to me in my own palace! You weak, pathetic girl. From the moment you were born, you disgusted me, with your cries and your neediness. You are not my daughter, I know it in my bones. You, with your black hair, are your mother’s bastard child! Proof that she was as much of a whore as I suspected! No child of mine would turn against me.”
“No?” screamed Dinah, losing control quickly. “What about your son? Did he turn against you? Charles was your son! He was innocent!”
The king erupted in anger, a vein throbbing in his forehead. “You will not speak his name, you murderous bitch!” He motioned to the Heart Cards. “Kill them all. Each one. Off with their heads!”
The Cards took a hesitant step toward Dinah’s men. Sir Gorrann raised his sword just as a terrible sound tore through the room, causing everyone to pause. Everyone turned toward the windows of the keep as the horrific reverberation of iron bending filled the room. Walls shook as heavy stones crashed to the ground. Dinah’s army had opened the gates on the north side. From the courtyard below came the terrified screams of women and children, followed by the loud whooping of the Yurkei and the thundering of hooves. Mundoo’s large Yurkei army was now flooding inside the walls.
At the sound of the gates falling, the king’s face went pale. He had lost. Dinah’s mind raced; she needed to address the people, and quickly, or it would all descend into chaos and even more violence. She lowered her voice as she stared at the king.
“It’s over. Our armies have broken down your walls. In an hour’s time we will take all of Wonderland Palace. I beg of you, surrender and save the men who defend you here. Their lives are still worth something to me.”
“You speak like a queen,” answered the king. “But you will die a traitor, a worthless wench, a motherless orphan, a murderer, a girl I never wished to call daughter.”
“That’s because she isn’t your daughter.”
Cheshire stepped forward.
The king’s face burned as he looked at Cheshire, his most trusted adviser and companion. “You!”
Cheshire brushed off the king’s anger as if it were nothing more than a drop of rain. The king pointed at him.
“You treacherous, slimy leech. Your speech is poison to any who hear it! You served me loyally for almost twenty years and then you desert me for her? For this simpering creature?” The king began laughing hysterically. “I’ll wipe off her blood from my Heartsword on your ribs.”
Cheshire laughed casually. “Are you so dim that you never suspected she was my daughter? Can’t you see her? The dark hair, the dark eyes, her sharp mind. She certainly didn’t get that from you. Davianna never loved you. Tell me, did she even have reason to try? You, with your whores and your pointless wars, you never gave her a minute of your day.” A shadow crossed over Cheshire’s face, and his pointed smile turned angry. “I loved her. Physically and mentally, she was mine. She was always mine. I watched as you killed her from neglect and abuse. Had you embraced our daughter, there wouldn’t be an army breaking down your walls. But you couldn’t, because you are a prideful, lustful man who needs to possess everything he sees. You are not the ruler these people deserve, but Dinah is. She is the queen they will love for a hundred years, and as our family rises, your name will be wiped from this kingdom like dust from a mirror.”
There came a roaring sound, and Dinah realized a great horde was coming up the stairs behind them. Were they trapped, caught between two enemies? She turned as dozens of Yurkei swarmed up through the doors of the keep. A handful of wooden arrows flew into the room and buried themselves in the exposed necks of a few Heart Cards. They fell face-first onto the floor.
“Stop!” shouted Dinah. The Yurkei at the top of the stairs hesitated.
“Surrender,” Dinah shouted at the king, aware that she longed greatly for the lives of everyone gathered in the room to be spared. She spread her hands. “Please gods, surrender! What are you doing?”
The king gave her a raw smile and curled his finger toward her. Dinah paused, unsure what to do. Then, like a coiled snake, he leaped at her, his Heartsword ripping through the air. Dinah leaned back just in time, and the blade of the sword cut deep into her chin. She felt the warm trickle of blood down her neck. It’s happening, she thought.