The Spades would aid in the plans and building as well. She hoped that the activity would bond the two groups. We’ll see, she thought. Dinah had learned quickly that each faction of the Cards had a distinct voice, and the best way to acknowledge those voices was to listen honestly. Ruling had a learning curve, and she hoped that in ten years it would be easier.
Dinah bowed her head in Sir Gorrann’s direction. “Please thank the Spades for all their work. I will send some refreshments their way this evening from the kitchens. And thank you.”
Sir Gorrann’s gold eyes met hers. Lately, there was a renewed energy in them. “Thank yeh, my queen. Will I see yeh for sparring this week?”
“Yes. Four o’clock, tomorrow. Don’t be late again. Harris swings his pocket watch so violently when schedules are ignored, it’s likely to cut off our heads one of these times.”
Dinah gave a shallow laugh, suddenly reminded of Cheshire . . . and Alice. She grew silent. Sir Gorrann saw her withdraw and rested his hand gently against Dinah’s head. “When I look at yeh, I don’t see Cheshire. Yeh are yer own person, Dinah. And, with work, yeh will be a great queen.”
Dinah blushed.
“Are you finally headed there tonight? To see him?”
She nodded. “I think it’s time.”
His eyes met hers, and Dinah saw a sympathetic look pass through them.
“Very good, Dinah. Though it will be torture for yeh, it is the right decision for yer kingdom.”
“Good day, Sir Gorrann.”
“Good day, Yer Majesty,” he said before returning to his tart.
She sighed and headed back to the palace. There were councils, meetings, and a banquet to attend later. A visit to the Hearts, to the Clubs, to the court. Dinah’s life was not her own, and yet she couldn’t be more thankful, for those things meant a kingdom. But first, there was one last terrible thing.
The time had come to ask. It was late afternoon, the prettiest part of the day. The blazing jewel of a sun cast a pink shadow over all of Wonderland just as it began to set.
Dinah pulled a simple black-and-white dress over her head and settled the lighter ruby crown upon her brow. Two bejeweled heart pins swept her hair up in a small bun. While she loved Charles’s crown, it was terribly heavy, and she only wore it when she had official business to attend to or when she would be seen by large crowds. Tonight featured neither of those activities.
Ki-ershan’s scowling blue eyes glimmered in the mirror’s reflection. He was upset with her. She turned.
“I must go alone. Please understand. It’s just a quick jaunt through the palace. I’ll be safe.”
Ki-ershan turned away from her, his muscular arms folded in protest. A pouting Yurkei, she thought, is something I never thought I would see in my lifetime.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be back. You understand why you can’t come.”
“I’ll follow you from a respectable distance and stand outside the room.”
“If you must.”
“I must, Queen of Hearts.”
Dinah slipped out of the door and made her way quickly through the palace to the Royal Apartments. She couldn’t hear him behind her, even if she knew he was there.
She dreaded visiting this side of the palace. Charles’s and Alice’s rooms were located here, and both haunted Dinah’s mind with dark memories. Alice’s room was now occupied by Wardley, who had become a recluse in every way. When she reached the door, Dinah took a deep breath, steeling her heart against the words she knew would rip her soul to shreds. Of all the things she had done—joining the Yurkei and the Spades together, marching on the palace, choosing to free herself from Cheshire’s influence—she knew that the future of her kingdom depended most on what happened in the next few minutes.
Dinah exhaled, knocked once, and entered. Alice’s once whimsical bedchambers, breezy and lovely, had been destroyed. Dresses and linens were shredded and hung from the rafters. Paintings had been slashed, furniture overturned, and food and refuse left to rot. A stench hit her nostrils: human sweat, waste, and agony. Gryphon, the white peacock who had tried to protect his mistress, strolled proudly over the mess, seemingly oblivious to the hole in which he lived. He pecked at crumbs on the floor.
Light from the setting sun flickered over Dinah’s face as she looked toward Wardley, who stood precariously on the windowsill. Dinah’s heart clutched—a fall would lead to certain death in the hedge gardens below. Still, she didn’t flinch. She was told that he did this often, sometimes even letting his foot dangle off the edge. But he never jumped. Hopefully, her presence didn’t inspire the leap. She walked toward him with small, careful steps.
“Do you think I could fly?” he asked. “To where she is?”
Dinah made no sound. He didn’t turn around to look at her face.
Finally, after several moments of silence, Wardley sighed. “What do you want, Dinah?”
His voice broke her heart. It was bare, stripped of every passion that had once lilted and raised its cadence. The anger had departed from him, and there was only grief left. Wardley was a hollow shell of the man he once was. She had cut out his heart, just as Iu-Hora had warned.
“I’ll ask once more. What do you want?”
“I think you know,” she replied softly.
“I heard you had Cheshire killed. One more body to add to your growing count. Two dead fathers. It must feel wonderful to have so much power.”
“There will be no more,” she replied plainly. “There can’t be. The rage of the Queen of Hearts must end.”
“Why does that concern me?”
He looked over his shoulder at her. His hair was longer, his eyes hollow and sunken. It pained Dinah to see him like this. She had never dreamed that seeing this devastation on his face would hurt more than seeing him entwined with Alice. This was part of her penance, forcing herself to look upon his face every day. This alone would humble and break her. It was something she wanted, something she needed. The all-consuming and hungry fury lived inside her, and it would need drowning daily. Wardley now stared at her, clenching his jaw as he struggled to control his emotions.
“Please go, Dinah. I can’t bear to look at you.” He blinked slowly, as if keeping his eyes open took what little strength he had left. Dinah walked slowly toward him, her hand outstretched. He did not reach for her in return, but rather watched with curious eyes. Once Dinah reached the window, she knelt before him.
“What are you doing?” Wardley stared down, unnerved by her behavior. “This is ridiculous. You’re the queen. Get up.”
“Be my king,” she said plainly. “Be my king, Wardley Ghane.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Be my king,” she replied, her knees pressed against a clod of dirt. “My kingdom deserves a righteous ruler. I cannot be that ruler alone. I fear my own nature, and I need someone to temper it. A fair king. A good king. Someone patient, wise, and kind, someone who is good at his very core. Someone who will make the right decisions for the kingdom again and again, someone who can steady his anger, and stay his hand. I can be the face and strength of Wonderland, but I need someone to be its heart. And it can only be you.”
She raised her head to look at his face. “You are the heart that this kingdom deserves.”