“Of course, she will join my two other children, Princess Dinah, my oldest, the future Queen of Hearts, and Charles, her younger brother, the pride of my heart.”
Lies, thought Dinah, willing the hot tears flooding her eyes to stay put. He speaks lies.
“It is my prayer and my command that this kingdom would embrace my daughter as their new Duchess of Wonderland. If I so much as hear any whispers of the word ‘bastard,’ that man or woman will lose their head to my Heartsword.”
With a labored breath, Dinah twisted her arm out of her father’s grasp. She could feel the eyes of the crowd on her, thousands of hungry eyes watching her every move. Her black eyes like simmering coals, she stared down at Vittiore. The tiny girl with the blond hair took a timid step toward Dinah. Dinah watched her warily, unsure what to do. She felt like screaming and hurling something at her, but didn’t dare. The King certainly would beat her if she did such things. The little girl reached out her petite hand.
“My sister,” she whispered, with a hint of pleading. The crowd inhaled. Dinah met the girl’s blue eyes with a furious scowl, and raised her head to the King of Hearts.
“Thank you, Father. I shall welcome her gladly into our . . . family.” She choked on her last word. She grabbed the girl’s warm hand in her cold one and gave a hard squeeze. The hall erupted in music and cheers as everyone bowed before the two girls and their father. The King saw that the moment he had been waiting for had arrived.
“I invite you all to join us for a celebratory dinner feast in the Dining Hall!” he announced.
The crowd quickly began dispersing, hungry for the piles of tarts and steaming meat that no doubt awaited them. Dinah took a step backward toward the stairs, happy to be released, fearful that her father would see her cry.
“Not you,” growled the King, yanking her back, his hand clasped hard around her arm. Dinah let out a whimper.
“What was that?” he hissed. “Why aren’t you happy to meet your new sister?”
Dinah spun around to face him, the tears that she had been holding spilled out over her nose and chin. “What about my mother? I thought . . . I thought . . . ,” she whispered.
The King’s face lit up with fury and, muttering angrily, he dragged her away from the eyes of the crowd, back behind the throne so large it concealed both of them. He grabbed her chin in his hands and held it close, the scent of wine washing over her face from his hot breath. “I never want you to mention your mother again, not in front of Vittiore. Davianna’s name will not be spoken in these halls.”
Dinah gave a sharp cry. The King’s face was growing red.
“STOP IT! STOP CRYING! You need to be glad today, you ungrateful wretch! You have a sister. Be happy.”
He was shaking her violently now, and she felt her knees begin to buckle. Suddenly, a long, thin hand curled over the King’s shoulder.
“Your Majesty, allow me to deal with her. Princess Dinah has no doubt had an emotional day. I’m sure this is quite a shock for her.”
Cheshire, the King’s advisor, slithered into view. His face was long and flexible, as if he had no underlying bone structure. He had thick black hair, black eyes, and pale lips, almost the same shade as his skin; but you never saw them, for they were always curled back in a smile, bearing his enormous white teeth. Even when Cheshire was smiling and friendly, he looked dangerous. Lean and sinewy, he towered over the King, radiating malice. Today he was dressed as he always was, in a plum-colored velvet vest and breeches over brown hunting boots. A white sash with each Card symbol draped from his left shoulder to the floor, denoting his authority over all the Cards. There was no one above Cheshire, but the King.
Dinah stared up at Cheshire with confusion. He was never her ally; rather, he was a man who constantly whispered twisted secrets in her father’s ear. The rumors of his extracurricular activities ran rampant in the castle. Some said he spent time in a secret laboratory in the Black Towers, making new species of birds and concocting poisons. Some said he could change forms, and wandered the castle all night disguised as a house cat. Dinah had always passed that off as commoner silliness, but now she wasn’t so sure. There was a compelling strangeness about him, something that drew her toward his silky promises. Still, she hated him, and always had. She blamed him for her father’s hatred of her.
Cheshire’s voice was gentle as he released the King’s fingers from Dinah’s shoulders. “I’ll take her back to her quarters. Perhaps Princess Dinah isn’t feeling up to feast today.”
The King walked away from her without a second glance and curled his arm protectively around Vittiore. She stared back at Dinah with empty, sad eyes.