Dinah fell back into her bed with a long exhale of relief, gently tucking the dagger under her pillow. She closed her eyes and attempted to will unconsciousness back, but it wouldn’t come. Sleep did not come easily to her, not even in this same bed, a bed that she had fantasized about when sleeping on the floor of the Twisted Wood. Now it was too soft, too filled with pillows and furs and feather blankets. It was suffocating in its loving embrace.
Dinah lay awake for another hour before she silently crept out of bed and washed her face in the silver basin near her swan-shaped tub. Reaching over the basin, she pulled on a black dressing gown. The inside swath that ran down the center of the garment was sewn with dozens of white and black squares, made to look like a chessboard. Her short hair was tangled and messy, and for a moment Dinah regretted cutting off her long, lovely black braid. She ruffled her hair in the mirror and jumped when she saw two glowing blue eyes reflected behind her.
“Ki-ershan! You scared me.”
He was almost invisible in the darkness. “You are awake, so I must be. Will we be walking the palace again tonight?”
Dinah nodded. “I think so. I’m sorry. You should try to get some sleep.”
He laughed. “I will do no such thing.”
Dinah smiled. “I knew you would say that. I feel bad denying you sleep. Something woke me; I’m not sure what it was.” Her voice faltered. The longer she was awake, the more she was convinced that it wasn’t some thing that had woken her, but rather a feeling, a gnawing, mournful feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was the same feeling she’d had in the nights before she had awakened with a stranger’s hand over her mouth. A secret was passing through the palace.
Ki-ershan checked the hallway first, strapping his sword across his back, then followed dutifully behind Dinah as she made her way through the dark corridors and hidden passages of Wonderland Palace. As they paced the sleeping palace, a growing sense of anxiety flooded Dinah’s senses. Her bare feet slapped against the stone floor, faster and faster. It occurred to her that she was looking for something.
They had wandered for an hour when she decided to take a small detour.
Many of the Royal Apartments had secret exits and entrances, and the king’s treasure—now her treasure, she mused—was scattered throughout the palace, hidden away in these secret rooms to keep it safe. It seemed like a good place to start. She tried door after door. Ki-ershan hurried along beside her, his muscles tensed, waiting for someone to leap out from these cobweb-covered corners.
They ducked under a table in the servants’ kitchen and pushed open a tiny door, something Dinah had done several times as a child. After crawling through it, they stepped out into a long hallway, forgotten for the last ten years. Dinah passed several beat-up doors, each carved with a symbol of the Cards. These were the rooms where her father had met his mistresses. There was nothing of worth here. She passed the door marked with a Spade symbol, the Club, another door with a small heart carved around the keyhole, the Diamond carving. . . . These unassuming entrances were purposely designed to be forgettable. They were not the sort of doors that drew notice, as they were hidden dozens of twists and turns away from the day-to-day activity of the palace. The darkness that gnawed at her chest pressed hard against her.
Dinah walked past the doors and continued down the hallway. This was silly, she told herself. It was time to return to bed. She had turned to go when she heard something. A breath. A sigh. She spun around.
Without warning, there was a strange whiff of air as something ethereal, clothed in white, fluttered out of the darkness toward Dinah’s face. Dinah silently leaped back, ducking her head as talons brushed the tips of her hair. Her face was gently bathed in long white feathers. The giant bird flapped to a stop and turned with a loud squawk.
The bird that had scared her so was Vittiore’s white peacock, Gryphon. In fact, Dinah rarely saw Vittiore without Gryphon these days. When she walked, she cradled him so lovingly, as if he were her child. It hurt Dinah’s heart to see it. The queen turned back to the wooden doors. She walked to the smallest one, carved with a rough heart.
Ki-ershan shook his head as he reached out and rested his fingers on Dinah’s wrist.
“We should return to your chambers.”
Dinah’s eyes went wide with rage. The white peacock watched her silently, his head cocked to the side.
She looked at her bodyguard before quietly turning the door handle. It wasn’t locked and they entered without a sound. The room smelled of heat—of skin and sweat and wanton perfume—and the scents mixed together assaulted her nostrils. There was only one small window in the entire room. Linens and clothing were strewn about the room, which was dimly lit by a dozen low candles and the stars outside. The flames flickered and leaped as Dinah inched silently toward the bed. When she reached it, she stood perfectly still, letting the black rage consume her from within.
Wardley and Vittiore lay face to face, their eyes closed in deepest slumber. Wardley’s hair was pressed up against his forehead, the curls that Dinah loved damp and messy across his brow. His nose was inches from Vittiore’s, his hand clasped lovingly over her cheek, as if he had fallen asleep caressing her face with his thumb. His chest, scarred and bruised like Dinah’s, was bare and shining in the flickering light. One of Vittiore’s arms was wrapped around his waist, the other pressed against his chest, her hand splayed over his heart. Her long white leg rested easily on his hip. She slept in the thinnest of gowns, the sheer blue fabric barely concealing her very naked body. Her tiny peach breasts heaved and fell with each deep breath. Wardley’s other arm was wrapped beneath her, cradling her against him, their hips and legs entwined. The bed was bare except for their sweaty forms, all the linens stripped away by their lovemaking and crumpled up at the side of the bed.
Dinah stared down at their faces, so close that they breathed with one breath. The look on their faces was something she had never seen, not ever in all her years. Perfect happiness. Overwhelming sacredness, blissful contentment, ecstasy, and hope all blended in the faces of these two people, so deeply at peace that they did not stir as Dinah hovered over them. She had never known that happiness, and now she never would.
The rage she had kept at bay for so long, that seductive fury, ripped its way out of her heart. It rose up from her chest, an anger as unstoppable as a tidal wave. Her fingers pulsed with it, the roots of her hair quivered with passion. Dinah’s body began to shake, and then her vision tunneled. The candles and the walls faded away, and there was only her—the queen!—and the sleeping lovers, clinging to each other as if it was the end of the world. It was the end of her world.