“Lord Delmont had four children. Four boys, all in the prime of their youth, just like my Lyla. To think they died from boiled dove meat . . .” She dissolved into tears again.
Dinah hesitantly reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Ki-ershan raised his eyes to hers, and Dinah gave him a knowing look. Without warning, the little girl who had been watching them silently reached out to grab Ki-ershan’s hand. He looked down at her curiously as she gazed up at him in amazement. Lord Geheim walked across the room swiftly and scooped up his daughter.
Ki-ershan winked at the girl as Lord Geheim returned to the corner, holding his daughter protectively. Dinah thought about reprimanding him but decided against this fruitless effort. She turned back to the lady of the house.
“Was there anyone who Lord Delmont confided in? Anyone he was close to outside of his family?”
Geheim cleared his throat. “He was extremely close to Lord Sander, whose old residence was at the end of this row.”
“Was?”
“Did you not hear? Lord Sander and his family died in the battle. They were slain.”
“By?”
Lord Geheim shrugged, his eyes weary. “Does it matter? Lord Sander died on the battlefield, and his family was slain by a blade—probably Yurkei—while trying to barricade themselves in their home.”
He collapsed on a chair in the living room, his daughter on his lap, all traces of nervousness wiped out by exhaustion.
“These are dark times for the court of Wonderland. Our lives were once full of dancing, tea and tarts, fashion and feasting. Now, life is a hardship we can hardly bear.” Dinah looked at him with amazement. He was a wealthy man, living in a fine house with servants at his command. Hardship? She realized with a start just how naive the court was. They were nothing more than children who played at Wonderland Court. Lord Geheim continued, unaware of her skeptical eyes.
“I pray that your rule will bring the peace that we have so needed, even if it does come at a cost.”
His eyes lingered on his daughter, who was still staring with fascination at Ki-ershan.
Dinah sighed. “Is there anything else you can tell me about either of those two lords? Anyone they were consorting with?”
“Not that I can think of, Your Majesty. I am sorry that I cannot be of more help.”
Dinah stood and fiddled with her cloak strings. “Thank you for your time. I would ask that you speak of this to no one, not a word. Do you understand? Keep in mind that this is a matter of the crown, and speaking of it will carry a high cost.”
Lord and Lady Geheim’s faces paled. They understood what that meant.
“And might I suggest the next time you have visitors, offer them some tea—both of them.”
On her way out, she patted the little girl on the head. The girl beamed up at her like she was the sun. Dinah paused.
“I think I would like Lyla to become one of my junior ladies-in-waiting. Please send her up to the palace early next week to begin training.”
Lady Geheim gasped and put a hand over her heart. Then she gave a clumsy curtsy before sinking to the ground and gushing. “That is a great honor, Your Majesty. How can we ever thank you?”
“You can thank me by your silence.”
Ki-ershan checked outside the door and then ushered Dinah through it. They had walked only a few steps before Lord Geheim ran out, his nightshirt blowing around his ankles.
“Wait! Your Majesty—I just remembered something that may be helpful. Lord Sander had an apprentice, a young boy. His name is Swete Thorndike. I think he lives in the baker’s district.”
Dinah’s black eyes bore into his. “Thank you.”
He bowed before her. “My queen.”
Ki-ershan and Dinah swiftly made their way to the baker’s district. It was hardly a district—more like a cluster of carts and a few bakeries. The houses were smaller here, but still pretty and quaint. Though it was very early in the predawn hours, the lights of the bakers’ houses were ablaze with pink flames. The inhabitants were up early, baking bread for the day. The smell of warm yeast drifted up and through the lots, and Dinah’s stomach gave a quiet grumble.
As they came around a corner, she spied a round woman stacking loaves of steaming bread onto a cart. The woman’s heavy breasts swung forward in her tunic as she covered the loaves with a checkered blanket. Dinah and Ki-ershan approached and the woman slyly reached under her cart, probably looking for a weapon. Dinah pulled back her hood, revealing her black hair.
“We are not here to hurt you, madam. I am simply looking for the house of Thorndike.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Dinah, trying to put together where she had seen this woman before.
“I’m Ruby Thorndike. How can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m looking for your son, Swete.”
The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “Do you know where he is? Has he been found?”
Dinah shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. We are looking to speak with him regarding Lord Sander.”
The woman slammed her hand on the cart, and a loaf of bread rolled off and bounced onto the ground. “Lord Sander,” she hissed. “Don’t speak to me of him! Coward that he is! He’s responsible for everything.”
Dinah gestured for the woman to sit on a stone bench near the cart and lowered herself beside her. The woman’s eyes went wide when she recognized Dinah.
“Why, you’re . . . you’re the Rebel Queen!”
Dinah smiled kindly. “Just the queen now. But please continue.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. As I was saying, Lord Sander and his highborn family took my son away. I was raising him to be a baker, like his father, who died when Swete was two. Raising him to love bread, just like his mother. There was flour on the boy’s hands since the day he was born. But Swete wanted more. He wanted to be a member of the court—a ridiculous lot of useless birds though they are, even if their coins keep us from being cast out of Wonderland proper.”
She leaned forward and continued pulling loaves out of the cart.
“Swete followed Lord Sander around, trying to learn everything he could and work his way up into his good graces. Lord Sander indulged him, teaching him how to make ale, how the lords and the ladies dressed. All nonsense, in my opinion. Yet he never invited him to join him at court, never gave the lad anything of value. My son was no more than a servant, a pet to amuse him!” She spat on the ground.