A tear dripped down Wardley’s cheek. It landed near Dinah’s outstretched hand.
“You killed her. You killed Alice!” He shook his head. “I cannot forgive you.”
Dinah closed her eyes against the hot flood of tears that threatened to spill out over the floor. “I don’t need you to forgive me. I need you to be my king. I need your steady hands on this kingdom, along with mine.” Dinah crawled up to his feet, her head still bowed. “Together, we can change everything, for the better. Don’t say yes for me. Say yes for every man, woman, and child out there. Say yes for Faina Baker, and for Bah-kan, for Emily, for Swete Thorndike, for every person who will die if I turn out like either of my fathers. Say yes for Alice, and know that she will forever haunt my dreams and waking hours.”
She raised her head up so that her black eyes met Wardley’s red-rimmed ones. “I’m so sorry, Wardley. For everything. You must believe me.”
He blinked twice and clenched his fists. “I believe that you are sorry, right this moment. But I also believe that once your rage rises inside of you, you would lose control again. You have a darkness that you can’t control. But you also have the potential to be a great queen. How infuriating it is that somehow I still believe that, even with all you have done. I almost died a thousand times for your right to be queen, because I believed in you. I have seen your heart in all its radiant goodness. It is there, buried beneath the layers left by your fathers. But I can’t love you. How can I be your king when being near you makes me long to wrap my hands around your neck? How can I be your husband?”
“Not without difficulty,” responded Dinah, her eyes cast to the ground. “But it would be what is best for Wonderland. It is your fate to become the next King of Hearts.”
Wardley let out a long exhale as he turned back to the window. “I will think on it. That is all I can promise. Know that things will never change between us. I will not grow to love you as you desire, nor do I believe that I could ever be your friend again.” His voice choked. “Not for Alice. My love, my dead love.”
A sob overtook him.
Dinah turned to leave, her heart breaking. Her jeweled slipper hesitated near the threshold. “Wardley, one thing: if you become king, you can’t tell anyone. You can’t tell anyone what happened to Alice. If Mundoo ever found out . . .”
“I won’t,” sniffed Wardley. “She disappeared into the night. Cheshire made sure of that.”
Dinah reached for the latch on the door.
“Wait.”
She paused and turned back, her heart hopeful. Wardley looked at her, his face alarmed. “I told someone.”
Dinah’s heart began to hammer. “What? Who did you tell?”
Wardley sighed and rubbed his face. “That night that I met with you, outside by the Julla Tree, I was distraught. Alice was gone, and I was filled with vile, murderous thoughts. I dreamed of killing you. I had to escape. After the Cards outside my door fell asleep, I climbed out of my window and made my way down through the kitchens. I ran until I collapsed with exhaustion. I began to lose consciousness. I had brought my dagger with me. I wanted to die, Dinah. You did that to me.”
Dinah closed her eyes, heavy guilt falling around her.
“I tried to cut my throat, but my arms kept shaking, and so instead I fell asleep with the dagger clutched against my chest. Sleep took me so quickly; I hadn’t slept in days. When I woke up there was a man—a traveler—standing over me.”
Wardley shook his head and sat down on the windowsill, his long legs dangling over the edge. “The man’s name was Lewis. I’ve never met a man like him before. He knew things. He had a way with words, a lyrical tongue, and a sharp mind. He invited me back to his tent, but by which way I cannot fathom; this man had somehow salvaged a pot of Iu-Hora’s blue smoke.
“He opened it, and the tent filled with smoke. Dinah, I told the man everything. Everything about you, Cheshire, Alice, the Cards, Iu-Hora, the battle. And when I awoke, he was gone.”
Dinah tilted her head. “Why did you come back at all?”
He turned to the window. “I can’t say. Maybe I have to believe that there are still wonders out there for me, even if she is gone.”
Dinah turned the handle on the door and brushed her hot tears away. “Thank you for telling me. Consider what I said, please.”
Wardley nodded, his eyes looking toward the Western Slope. “You weren’t painted very well in the story. A villain for the ages.”
Dinah stared back at his figure illuminated on the windowsill, the wind blowing his hair in tiny circles.
“I deserve it.” She shut the door behind her.
The traveler proved impossible to find, and though Dinah used every resource available, it was as if he had fallen down a rabbit hole.
Nineteen
The seasons of the court began in full swing as Dinah waited for Wardley to make his decision. It was an exhausting stretch of balls, banquets, meetings, and pointless introductions to people that Dinah knew she would never speak with again.
Just that evening Dinah had hosted a banquet welcoming the new ladies and lords of the court. The Queen of Hearts made her usual endless rounds of pleasantries and small talk, laughing too loudly at jokes that she didn’t find funny, nodding at gentlemen who worked too hard to catch her eye. Royal life was exhausting, but she reminded herself that a good queen understood the dictates of social politics. This was her duty, her privilege. It was tiresome, but as Harris kept reminding her, not optional.
Still, her mind was only on Wardley, and when she returned to her room with sore feet and ribs, Dinah hoped to find an envelope waiting for her with his answer. There was no envelope, but this time there was something: a small carving left outside her door. Dinah smiled as she picked it up, turning it in the light. It was a wooden sea horse. She remembered the day she had given an identical one to Charles.
It wasn’t a yes. But it wasn’t a no either.
She stepped inside her chambers, and with a happy sigh, she made quick work of stripping off her gown with relish. Finally unburdened of the weight of the rose-scented fabric, she stepped out onto the balcony in the cool night air, wearing only a thin gray nightgown that swirled around her thighs. So much had changed, yet her view remained the same; all of Wonderland proper and the endless fields of wildflowers in the North were now turning a pinkish red. To the east, she could vaguely make out the dormant, topless Yurkei Mountains just past the Twisted Wood. Her kingdom, which had come at the greatest cost.