“Not,” he muttered, “not by her.”
Dinah pushed him down, the crown falling roughly from his head as he was forced to kneel in front of her. She looked into his pale and sweaty face, his mouth open and closing like a dying fish. A guttural rattle escaped his lips as her black eyes bore into his slack face. Her hand twisted around the sword handle, and she pulled the blade from his heart. The king slumped forward against her, his mouth opened in silent pain. One last time, Dinah looked upon his face. This sad man, her father, her king—was no longer either.
“Charles,” she whispered in his ear. “For Charles.”
His face turned to her, his features nearly motionless as he fought to keep death at bay. His blue eyes found hers, and the last emotion to pass through them was not hatred, but confusion. “Charles?” His last breath washed over her face, warm and sour.
Dinah gently laid him down on the floor, his head near his makeshift throne. The king was dead.
“I am the queen,” she breathed quietly, before wrapping her fingers tightly around his crown.
Ten
There was silence in the keep as Dinah stared out at the Cards. Dizzy from blood loss, she felt the room spin.
“Drop your weapons!” she ordered her men. The Yurkei lowered their bows and the Spades gingerly placed their swords on the ground. She turned to the men who had sworn to protect their king, holding the flesh wound on her head with one trembling hand.
“I do not long for your lives, and you are not my prisoners. You are the Cards of Wonderland Palace, and I hope to have you in my service. I would ask that you stay here in the keep until I can return. Then we may discuss the terms of your service, not with chains and swords, but with pen and paper. Do you find this agreeable?”
The bold Card who had spoken the names of the deceased to the king stepped forward. “I speak for these Cards and lords, Your Majesty. We will do as you ask, if you spare the lives of our families.”
“Of course.”
Sir Gorrann and Wardley were practically on top of her now, wiping and tending to the cuts on her head, her chin, and the various other wounds the king had given her. Mundoo emerged from the crowd of Yurkei behind her.
“The king is dead?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Dinah, exhausted beyond measure.
Mundoo pulled a dagger from his belt and walked swiftly toward her. Dinah felt Sir Gorrann go rigid, his hand on his blade. Wardley stepped in front of her. Mundoo looked Dinah coldly in the eye, and when she didn’t blink, he slapped her happily on the back before he knelt over the body. The king’s head came off easily, and Mundoo raised it up in front of his troops, who exploded with cheers and hollers. Dinah turned away, nauseated.
“We must go,” Cheshire whispered to Dinah. “Now. Wonderland Palace is falling.”
Dinah walked out of the keep, leaving the king’s headless body behind. Mundoo and his men followed with the king’s head. The late king’s men stayed behind in the keep.
“Where is Vittiore?” she asked Cheshire as they walked, Sir Gorrann fussing over the wound on her head. “Why wasn’t she in the keep with the others?”
Cheshire smiled meanly. “She was hiding inside her bedroom, the coward. Some of the Spades have brought her down to the courtyard. We must act quickly. The Yurkei are within the walls and the people are restless. If we don’t take control, this day will end with a ruined kingdom.”
Dinah nodded, taking it all in, trying to wipe as much blood from herself as possible as they walked. Wardley trailed silently behind, looking grave and pale, as troubled as Dinah had ever seen him. Perhaps the battle had changed him. Dinah shook her head—of course, the battle would have changed them all.
She passed an open window near the palace library and heard the sounds of kingdom-wide panic raging outside—a morbid mix of weeping, whooping, and mad pleas. Though she had never been more exhausted, she began sprinting now, her legs pumping underneath her, the men running beside her. Together, they plunged through a maze of hallways and kitchens and porticos before exploding through the doorway to the main courtyard. The bright outside light temporarily blinded her, and she uttered a low cry when the world came into focus.
Thick black smoke filled the sky, the entire expanse of the palace simmering with its onyx hue. The world had turned into a hell. The stables—once her favorite place—had been burned to the ground. Hungry flames still licked at one large piece of the structure. Two slain Heart Cards lay in front of the stable, their uniforms beginning to glow with sparks. Yurkei were everywhere. Spades and Cards were fighting in the streets, the ring of their swords echoing up the buildings, their faces twisted with rage. The cries of her people were all around. The ground was littered with bodies and weapons, and terrified children sat huddled in corners, crying softly for their fathers. One lone Diamond Card stared blankly at the tallest turret of Wonderland Palace, paralyzed by shock.
War came at such a high cost. She thought she had understood it, but she hadn’t. Not then. She did now. When the Spades saw her, they began shouting her name, happy to see her alive and well. The people of Wonderland stayed silent and watched her with eyes both fearful and full of rage.
In the center of the courtyard, hundreds of weary people waited in front of the execution platform. When they saw Dinah walking toward the platform, bloodied and holding the king’s crown, they stepped back, creating a long, narrow aisle—just as they would for a queen. Dinah took a deep breath, instructing herself not to feel the thousands of eyes upon her and the weight of their safety on her shoulders.
“Wait!” Cheshire reached around her and placed the king’s crown on her head. “You might need this. Now, listen to me. Stand proud. Look at them, like little sheep, waiting so desperately for a leader—any leader. The loyalty of these people is yours for the taking, so take it.”
She began to walk up the aisle. Wardley reached out from the crowd, looking frantic and terrified. His face was covered with sweat, and Dinah feared he was more wounded than he appeared. He roughly grabbed her waist, his eyes pleading.
“Dinah, whatever Cheshire said, be merciful. Stick to the plan. Vittiore is loved by the people. The king beheaded her mother in front of her. Grant her mercy. I beg of you, be the ruler that he was not. If you kill her, we will have a riot on our hands.”