Corbin

by Melanie Karsak

  She looked over her shoulder at me, smiling at me once more.

  “Thanks,” she said then joined me. “I made a cookie this morning that will turn you as thin as paper. Besides that, just the weird coffee.”

  “These are Plantato Chips,” I said, offering her the bag.

  She took a chip.

  As did I.

  But then, we paused and looked at one another, a daring expression on each of our faces.

  Lacey raised and lowered her brows. Then after a moment, she popped the chip into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully, savoring the taste. “Am I turning blue? Translucent? Shrinking?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “How are they?”

  “They taste salty…and what I’d imagine butter to taste like if you could fry it solid.”

  I tossed back the chip. She was right. “Not bad.”

  As Lacey settled in, pulling out her books, I did the same. Pushing aside my little tin robot, I grabbed my Necromancy textbook.

  “What class is that?”

  “Necromancy.”

  “No shit?”

  I laughed. “No shit.”

  “Dark stuff. Suppose they were profiling?” she asked with a grin.

  “Profiling?”

  “Your ink… Maybe they took you for a dark magic rebel.”

  “And how do you know I’m not a dark magic rebel?”

  “Well, if I assumed that, I’d be profiling.”

  I chuckled. “And what’s that?” I asked, motioning to her book.

  “The Alchemy of Baking.”

  “Profiling.”

  “What, because I’m a girl?”

  “Of course.”

  “There are guys in the class.”

  I nodded slowly. “Sure.”

  “My family owns a bar and grill. I’m good with a cooking class.”

  I know. Your French fry salad is excellent. “Well, my family members are not morticians. Nonetheless…”

  “Profiling,” Lacey whispered again.

  “Shh, or I won’t let you have any more fried butter chips. Didn’t Professor Lorekin say there was something called a bread-and-butterfly? We’re eating dead butterflies.”

  “Now you’ve gone and ruined it. That’s just mean.”

  I shifted the bag of chips toward her once more. “More dead butterflies?”

  She grabbed a handful. “Yes, thank you.”

  A smile on her face, her hands cupping the chips, Lacey pulled up her legs lotus style and settled into the chair with her book.

  Sitting back into my seat, I exhaled deeply.

  I didn’t know what I had done to make this work.

  But it had worked.

  She was there.

  And she was safe.

  And most importantly, she was with me.

  My princess.

  The sun had just set when Lacey began to pack up to head back to Rose Chambers. She rose and went to the rail once more. She stood there for a long time, gazing down at the unicorns. The fading sunlight cast shades of rosy pink and fiery orange on her hair.

  After a while, she turned back to me. “Thank you for showing me,” she said, gesturing to the unicorns.

  I joined her. The unicorns were grazing, the wild little colt rolling in the wildflowers.

  “What do you have tomorrow?” I asked, trying to seem less like a stalker.

  She pulled a paper from her pocket. “History of Wonderland, Wildcrafting, and Magical Weapons.”

  “What time is your History of Wonderland?”

  “At one-thirty.”

  “Same.”

  “Cool. See you there, then.”

  “You know your way back?” I was about to offer to walk her home when she gestured to the pouch hanging from her belt.

  “Nope, but I have this,” she said, then took a pinch of dust from the pouch. “Rose Chambers,” she said, tossing it before her. At once, the glimmering flower vine twisted off into the distance. The green vine, dotted with red roses, shimmered iridescently.

  “Interesting.”

  “Fairy magic.”

  “All right, Tinkerbell, see you tomorrow then.”

  “Thanks for the view…and the dead butterflies.”

  I laughed softly then stuffed my hands into my pockets. I didn’t want her to leave. Not really. I liked the real Lacey, not just the girl I’d been watching. The real Lacey was quirky, bright, and funny. I hadn’t expected that.

  “Bye,” she said, then slung her backpack over her shoulder and headed toward the cave that led up once more.

  I watched her as she went.

  My princess.

  It was stupid to feel something for her, something real. But I couldn’t deny the ache that settled in on my heart. I did care for her. For the real her, not just some girl I’d been keeping out of trouble. I had worried about and protected the sad girl back in Overthere. But the Lacey here…well, much to my surprise, I wanted to keep that girl who was willing to share a bag of dead butterflies with me safe. Safe and close to me.

  She paused just before she left, looking down at the unicorns one last time.

  Get a grip on yourself, Corbin. She just met you. She isn’t thinking anything like that.

  But my heart felt differently.

  If she looks back, you’ll know.

  If she looks back, you’ll feel it too.

  She turned to go.

  But just before she entered the cave, she cast a glance over her shoulder at me.

  She smiled softly.

  My stomach flopped.

  My princess. I would do anything to keep you safe.

  I inclined my head to her.

  She gave me one last smile, then left.

  Alice Lacey Crane, how did you manage to steal my heart?

  But this was Wonderland, and anything could happen here.

  Ready for Lacey’s side of the story? Check out Wonderland Academy: Book One on Amazon.com!

  The Princess of Hearts: A Wonderland Academy Bonus Story

  The Princess of Hearts

  A Wonderland Academy Short Story

  “What about this dress, Princess Cerise?” Marta asked, pulling out yet another black dress from my closet.

  “I thought we already packed that one,” I said absently, eyeing my suitcases. They were stuffed with countless uniforms, perfectly tailored gowns, and fashionable casual wear. Everything was perfect. Of course. Perfect Amber. How could I be anything but?

  “The other one had lace trim. This one has beads,” Marta said, adding the dress to the garment bag.

  I fingered the books sitting on the edge of my bed. I had asked Mother to let me take art appreciation, but she wouldn’t hear it. Aside from the required basics, I was enrolled in law, history, and other mind-numbingly boring classes. All in an effort to make sure I was ready to help Aden be king. Helping Aden, being there for Aden, watching out for Aden. My life seemed to revolve around my twin brother. Had I been born a minute earlier, the shoe would have been on the other foot. And then what?

  My pocket watch dinged. It was almost time to leave for orientation.

  “Where is Father?” I asked Marta.

  Marta stopped. “I don’t know.”

  Frowning, I turned and left the room. “Princess, should I send the bags to be loaded?” Marta called.

  “Do whatever you want,” I said. Did it matter? I hadn’t picked out anything in those bags anyway.

  When I stepped outside my bedroom, the guards in the hallway came to alert. The flames in the torches illuminating the dreary old castle flickered as I passed. The eyes of the House of Hearts, my ancestors whose images were captured in oil paint, glared down at me. I could almost sense them watching me, judging me. I straightened my posture and pulled down the hem of my skirt. It was fine if they wanted girls to dress femininely at the Academy, but I felt like a whore from Overthere, my ass nearly hanging out for the world to see.

  I made my way downstairs. Servants hurried past, each pausing to drop a
curtsey when they saw me. From the tight, anxious expression on everyone’s faces, I could tell Mother was in the family quarters. I wound down the stone stairwell to the first floor. I could hear mother’s shrill voice coming from the left wing of the castle. Guards stood at attention at the doorway. I shook my head then rounded the corner and went to the door hidden under the stairs. When I opened it, a sharp, musty scent rose from below. I inhaled deeply, grabbed a torch from the wall sconce, and then headed down the steps.

  It was cold, wet, and smelly in the crypts. The walls, lined with skulls, stared back at me. I passed the tomb of my grandmother, the Queen of Hearts. Her sarcophagus was carved in such a manner that her hands lay folded across her waist, her fingers wrapped around the Staff of Hearts that was buried in her tomb. I touched her hand as I passed.

  I worked my way deeper into the crypt, passing the ossuaries and walls lined with skulls and bodies. Soon, I heard the soft sounds of gramophone music. Light filtered out of a room deep in the crypt. Equipment clattered, then I heard my father curse under his breath.

  When I got to the doorway, I aligned my toes with the crack on the floor, standing just outside, then gazed into the room. There were stacks of old books heaped on the table. Uncategorized bones from what—or who—I didn’t know, lay in bowls and pans. A sulfur smelling liquid was bubbling in a crock on the center of the table.

  “Father?” I called.

  Something crashed to the floor with the telltale sound of broken glass.

  “Dammit. What is it?” Father spat.

  I swallowed. “We’re leaving soon.”

  He sighed with exasperation. A moment later, my father appeared from the back of the room. He had wrapped a cloth around his finger, which was bleeding.

  “You’re hurt,” I said, taking a step toward him.

  “Stop,” he screamed, his eyes going wide when he saw I was going to step in the room. “No thanks to you. Get back. You know you aren’t allowed in here. What do you want?”

  “Aden and I…we’re leaving for the Academy now.”

  Father hissed, swatting his hand in my direction as if he was shooing off an insect. “Good. Less distraction. Always distractions. I hide in a tomb, and I’m still forced to deal with distractions,” he said then turned around and headed back into the cavernous labyrinth that was his workshop, still cursing under his breath. My father, descended from the royal family of Spades, was obsessed with the dead. His dealings in necromancy left him with no time or patience—nor love—for the living.

  I stood there for a long moment. What had I thought was going to happen? Did I actually think he’d wish me well, or hug me, or…anything? Swallowing hard, I forced down the emotions that tried to bubble up in me. No. I wouldn’t let him make me feel like that. Who the hell was he anyway? No one. Nothing. He wasn’t Hearts. He was just…Mother’s husband.

  Turning back, I worked my way to the stairs once more, pausing at Grandmother’s tomb. Staring down at the sarcophagus, I reached out and touched the cold marble, stroking my finger across her cheek.

  “I’m going now, Grandmother. I hope…I hope you will be proud of me.” She had doted on me when I was a girl, always asking the servants to bake me tarts. She’d let me sit on her knee while she listened to cases as she ruled Wonderland. She would pat my hair and hold me close while she issued edicts for the land, but she never let me watch the beheadings. Never that.

  I pulled my hand away, feeling the chill from the stone, then headed upstairs once more.

  When I reached the foyer, Mother blustered in, Aden following along behind her.

  “Here you are. Where have you been?”

  “I went to tell Fath—”

  “Never mind. We’re leaving.”

  “Should I get my—”

  “Aden, do you have everything, my dear? All of your books? Your clothes? How about a jacket?” she asked, straightening his tie.

  “Yes, Mother,” Aden said.

  “And you remember what we discussed about what to do in the Hall of Doors? Enter the door with the Heart. Try no others. It will open for you.” She smoothed down a lock of his hair then held him by both arms, smiling lovingly at him.

  “Yes, Mother,” Aden said obediently.

  “Very good,” she said, then stroked his cheek.

  Turning, she looked at me, eyeing me over. She frowned. “Pull down that skirt. You look like a two-penny whore.”

  At that, she headed out the front door, Aden trailing her, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Outside, a small airship was waiting at the platform. I watched as one of the servants used a whirlwind of silvery magic to lift mine and Aden’s suitcases to the airship. As we walked, soldiers fell in line beside us.

  Ognella, Mother’s assistant, rushed to her side. “Your Majesty,” she began, then took Mother’s attention away with an endless list of…whatever.

  As we walked, I eyed the spikes lining the sidewalk. On the top, the heads of offenders rotted in the morning sunlight. I covered my nose and tried not to gag at the pungent scent.

  My brother paused, waiting for me to catch up.

  “Do you have everything you need?” he asked.

  At least someone gave a damn. “I guess. Marta packed everything. I have everything Mother thought I needed, so there’s that.”

  Aden frowned. “She’ll send me into the Hall of Doors first. I’ll wait for you on the other side.”

  “What if Spades opens for me? Or Diamonds? What if something goes wrong?”

  “Then she’ll bribe the Academy president to let you into Hearts, and no one will be the wiser. Don’t worry, Amber. You’re a Heart. You’ll be fine.”

  When we reached the airship platform, Aden, Mother, Ognella, and I entered the lift. The elevator raised us to the airship above.

  Greeted by a flurry of ‘Your Majesties,’ the sailors bowing, Mother blustered onto the deck of the ship.

  “I sent Sab ahead with his trainer. President Snark assured me our jabberwocky will receive the best treatment. Naturally, I did not believe him. Inept fool. Why the board continues to let him run the Academy is beyond me. No. No. Trainer Smithson will arrive tomorrow. He will see to Sab on a daily basis.”

  “Thank you, Mother,” Aden said.

  I was glad she wasn’t looking at him. If she had, she would have seen his cringe of embarrassment. Usually, Aden did a better job of hiding it. But today was stressful. It was orientation day at Wonderland Academy. My brother and I were out on display. One move out of line, and Mother would never let us forget it.

  Mother turned to me once more. “I understand Lady Thorne’s and Lady Coal’s daughters will start at the Academy today as well,” she said, mentioning two girls from Hearts I only knew through court life.

  “I believe so.”

  “Good. You will befriend only students from Hearts, do you understand? No one outside Hearts. And I will hear nothing of boys. Keep your mouth and your legs shut until I say otherwise.”

  I swallowed hard. “Yes, Mother.”

  She stepped closer to me. “What is that look on your face?”

  “Nothing, Mother.”

  “You will do as I say. Do you understand?” Her hands folded across her stomach, Mother wagged her fingers. A moment later, I felt a sharp pain in my side. Mother held my gaze, daring me to react.

  “Yes, Mother,” I said, trying to keep my voice as casual as possible.

  Mother harrumphed then motioned once more. The pain subsided. Frowning, she then turned to the airship crew. “What are you waiting on?” she yelled at the sailors. “Move.”

  I went to the side of the airship and looked out. I closed my eyes, feeling the soft breeze on my face.

  “Now, you are the future king,” Mother told Aden gently. “But your heart is too soft. Be cordial to all, but truly close to none. Remember that you are the future of this land. Many will test you. You must react swiftly and brutally when they do. Show them that you are magnanimous in peace, but violent when threatened.
Do you understand?”

  “I do,” Aden said.

  I could feel Mother pause. I looked over my shoulder at her. She was studying Aden carefully. “Say away from people from Overthere. Their days are numbered. No need for you to lower yourself among the rabble.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Very well. Amber,” Mother called shrilly.

  I took a deep breath, then turned back.

  “You will watch out for your brother. You know he is too soft. I leave it to you to enforce my will when Aden fails. Be the wall between him and the others. Make yourself useful, for once.”

  Aden looked at me, an apologetic expression on his face. Mother was right that Aden was kind. He wanted everyone to like him. For some reason, Mother’s lessons on that topic had not sunk in. We didn’t need people to like us. They needed to fear and respect us—as we feared and respected Mother. That was, at least, how she wanted us to think. And how could we be anything other than what our mother wanted? What choice did we have?

  “I understand.”

  “Good,” she said. Frowning, she eyed my outfit once more.

  Just then, a stray breeze blew in, blowing up my short skirt. For a brief moment, before I could shove the fabric down, my panties were on full display. The sailor standing closest to me had gotten an eyeful.

  My cheeks burned red with humiliation.

  The sailor choked back a smile and kept to his work.

  But Mother had seen.

  Her face flushing with anger, she crossed the deck of the airship and slapped me.

  Everyone on the ship grew still.

  She then turned to the sailor.

  “Your Majesty,” he began. “I apologize, I—”

  But there was nothing he could say. Mother unceremoniously shoved the sailor off the airship.

  He screamed as he fell.

  I closed my eyes, willing the tears to stay back.

  “I will discuss these uniforms with President Snark,” Mother said absently then turned to Ognella once more. “Now, what were you saying about our operatives?” She motioned for her aide to join her in a secluded section of the airship.