Queen of Hearts (The Crown)
Page 2
The Spades were universally loathed and feared across Wonderland. Her father held a firm hand over them, but he was the first King to overpower them with his iron first. He had executed their strongest leaders and subdued their wildness. The Spades simmered quietly, like a burning ember that could ignite and spread over the entire city. All of the Cards, though, no matter how frightening, were the source of much lore and many legends. When Dinah was a child, she loved to lie in her raised bed at night and list the Cards in her favorite order: Hearts first, since they protected her, then the Diamonds, then the Clubs, and finally, the Spades.
“DINAH!” A loud voice bellowed from the throne, and Dinah felt a tiny trickle of urine roll down her leg under her dress. She had been lost in thought, standing midaisle. Dinah bowed her head. “Get up here. Now.”
She walked quickly to the platform, up a set of wide stone steps. Atop the platform sat two massive chairs. They were carved from gold, each in the shape of a large heart. From the top of the throne, tiny hearts rose upward, growing smaller and sharper the higher they reached. The top ballooned out and opened into a flurry of sculpted hearts, as if they were taking flight. They reminded Dinah of birds. The pair of heart thrones was a part of Wonderland history: for it was said that once you sat in the throne, magic funneled down through the open hearts, and made you wise.
Looking at her father, she knew that wasn’t true.
One of thrones sat empty, a lone red rose always upon it. Davianna, her mother, had died when Dinah was ten. The second throne was commandeered by her father. The King of Hearts stood before her now, a giant man, full of fury and righteousness, and an insatiable lust for food and women. As his blue eyes lingered angrily on Dinah’s face, she saw him the same way his people did: he was the kind of king who would sooner ride into battle on his Hornhoov than rule from behind the council table. He was a man of action, a brutal and brave man whose rage was legendary. The people of Wonderland respected the King, but only because he represented a force to be reckoned with . . . and feared. What mattered to the townspeople was that he kept them safe from the Yurkei, and that was worth everything. Dinah didn’t believe he was a great king, but even she knew better than to ever speak those words. As she looked upon the King’s hard face, she remembered the time she had mentioned this to Harris, who had given her a hard shake.
“Don’t ever say that about the King of Hearts!” he had cried. “Do you wish to be beheaded?”
“No,” she cried hysterically, “I only want him to notice me!”
Harris had held her close that day, stroking her hair. “He will never be the father you deserve,” he whispered. He brought Dinah her favorite tart and then they watched the sunset from the croquet green, a rare treat.
“If he wasn’t King,” Dinah sniffled, “maybe he would love me.”
“Oh, child,” replied Harris, “that is not to be. Your father is a brutish man, and unsure of his place in his child’s life, even when your mother was still alive. Queen Davianna was all he had, the only thing he ever desired more than the rush of battle and the smell of fresh blood on his Heartsword. They had a terrible end and I fear somehow he blames you.”
Dinah thought of this now in the Great Hall as she knelt awkwardly before the thrones. The King’s advisor and head of the council, a Diamond Card named Cheshire, bent and whispered soft words in his ear with a feline smile. Dinah’s stomach gave a lurch at the sight of him. She did not trust Cheshire. The King growled back at him and then stood. He gave a sigh and rose to greet her.
“Dinah, my daughter, my eldest child. I see you are wearing your mother’s shoes.” Dinah felt a flush rise in her cheeks. He noticed! she thought. The King cleared his throat. “Look up.”
She yanked her head up too quickly and the crown slipped sideways off of her head and landed with a clang on the marble. She saw a frown cross his face.
“Don’t be so eager,” he hissed quietly. “You look ridiculous with that wanting face.”
Dinah felt her lower lip quiver. She clamped her teeth down on it, drawing sweet red blood that she sucked into her mouth. He knelt and picked up the crown, such a diminutive thing in his large hand. He placed it back on her head with a strained smile. The crowd gave a courteous laugh, unaware of his seething anger. The King stood, his long red cloak framing his massive, bull-like figure.
“My daughter. Councilors, lords and ladies of the court, Cards, and citizens, it is time for your King to tell you a great truth.” He looked down at Dinah. “Sit,” he said to her and her alone.
Dinah tried to sit like a lady should, but she ended up plopping on the floor with a hard breath. She stared up at him, intimidated by his powerful tone. She looked around. There was not a face in the room that was not held in rapt attention by his booming voice.
“Thirteen years ago, we were embroiled in a devastating war with the Yurkei tribe. Mundoo and his warriors were raiding the outer villages of Wonderland proper, killing and murdering innocent citizens. As the King, I could not let that evil abide. As you might remember, I took my best Hearts and Spades through the Twisted Wood, and up to the hills where we smashed the barbaric tribe and sent Mundoo screaming back into his mountains. It was a great day for Wonderland, a great day for the safety of my people.”
The crowd clapped and cheered until the King looked down solemnly and they grew suddenly silent. He was able to command a room by his moods alone, Dinah noted, something to remember when she was Queen one day.
“We lost many brave Cards that day. I hope that what I confess today will bring them some sort of honor.”
An uncomfortable feeling was churning its way through Dinah’s stomach as she sat at the floor of the throne. Her heart was clutching in on itself, giving singular, hard thumps that made loud noises when they met her chest. The King did not notice. He continued on.
“War is bloody and brutal, a thing that can rip through the very heart of men. War can make a man question everything he believes in, every truth that he holds dear. Wonderland has never seen war, so allow me to confess that war can make a man . . . lonely.”
The crowd nodded along sympathetically, and in the corner a woman burst into tears. Dinah imagined shaking her until she was quiet. The King had them in his grasp. His dark-blue eyes, deep like the sea, blazed with pride.
“As our laws decry, one might ask for forgiveness for a mistake made during a time of war. I had been away from my dear wife Davianna for too long. Gods rest her heart.”
The entire crowd, including Dinah, made the sign of a heart over their chests.
“She was the love of my life, and when I left for war, I never imagined it would take so long to return to her. And to my eternal shame . . . ,” the crowd waited with bated breath as the Great Hall stood still, “gods, forgive me, I strayed outside of my marriage vows.”
There was a sharp intake of breath from the room; Dinah gasped as well.
“It was a late night, after the battle, and I had drunk a large bottle of tart wine. Outside of my tent, I met a woman from a local village at the base of the mountains. She was kind and generous, and reminded me so much of my Davianna. My judgment was impaired, and I was grief-stricken for my lost men. We shared that night together and in the morning I awoke to instant, blinding regret. How could I betray my beloved Davianna? What kind of king was I?” There was a pause.
“That night I found a nearby cliff and prepared to throw myself over.”
There was another sharp gasp and murmurs erupted in the Great Hall. Two women fainted and had to be carried out by Heart Cards. The King gave a sly smile toward his advisor Cheshire, whose rich purple cloak draped over his thin shoulders. Cheshire gave him a quick wink. Only Dinah was close enough to see the exchange.
“As I stood on the edge of the precipice, looking at the changing stars one last time, I swore that I heard a woman singing over the breeze. Something sang me into a deep and dreamless sleep. The next morning, when I rolled over, I was a different man. My will to live had re
turned. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had met this common and low-born woman for a purpose. I immediately returned to the village to find her, but she had disappeared. I looked everywhere, and would have kept looking if Mundoo and a small army of his riders hadn’t raided our camp that very afternoon. It was chaos. Arrows were flying everywhere, but the maiden was nowhere to be seen. We fought and won, though so many more Cards were lost. Thirteen long years have passed, and there hasn’t been a single day when I haven’t thought about that woman and wonder what became of her.”
The King stomped down the steps, passing Dinah without a single glance. “My loyal subjects, I tell you the truth: a fortnight ago, a mad, raving beggar came to the palace. He had come to sell something priceless and refused to leave until I spoke with him. It was late, and I was furious at being woken so late. I met him in this very hall, though it was empty and silent as a tomb. Imagine if you will, a king in his royal pajamas meeting a beggar carrying a very large sack. I commanded him to open the sack immediately or a Heart Card would be glad to take his head. Truly terrified, he unrolled the sack . . . and out came a tiny girl.”
Everyone gasped, including Dinah. Her heart felt like it would explode in her chest.
“She was starving, a pitifully lovely creature, but when she stood and faced me, I saw greatness. I saw—” He paused again for dramatic effect.
“My lost daughter, your new Duchess Vittiore.”
Chapter Two
The Great Hall erupted in a cacophony of sounds, though Dinah sat stunned and speechless. The King’s subjects were screaming and shouting, their tears and applause all dissolving into a wave of happy noise. The King stood still as the crowd rocked and swayed before him. After a few moments, he cleared his throat.
“There could be no mistake that this girl was mine. She had my golden hair, my blue eyes, and the gentle demeanor of her mother, who sadly met her untimely death at the hands of the Yurkei tribes. Since Vittiore has arrived at the palace, I have done nothing but watch and study her, to see if she is truly mine. And I can say, with full confidence, that this IS my lost daughter. Today I will declare it openly, and let no man say otherwise, for he would call the King false!”
The King of Hearts let his eyes linger on Dinah, kneeling before him, her body frozen in shock.
“Duchess Vittiore has been questioned, inspected, and interrogated. Though I believed it in my heart, I did not dare to hope it true—until I spoke with her, and saw my own reflection in her eyes. Make no mistake: this is my second daughter, who will join her half sister Princess Dinah, as the Duchess of Wonderland. I introduce to you Vittiore.”
From behind the throne, a small, luminous girl stepped forth. She was young but already radiant as the sun. Golden curls the color of honey cascaded to her waist, and her bright-blue eyes shimmered with happiness and curiosity, her face perfectly unblemished—a picture of innocence. On top of the nest of curls rested a low crown made of sapphire bluebirds, no doubt crafted recently by the palace jewelers. Her long white-and-blue dress brushed the floor, as if she was a maiden on her wedding day.
“Darling,” said the King gently. He reached down and picked her up, holding her above his chest so that the entire crowd could see her. The crowd gasped at her beauty, and one Heart Card fell to his knees with emotion. The King set her down before Dinah, who stared up at her with naked hatred. A jealous fury rose in her, black and strange. Her hands shook as she gripped the edge of the steps. Her father’s booming speech continued.
“Many of you have wondered what you are doing here today. There are no wars to fight, no great matters at hand. It is because I wanted MY kingdom to know that Wonderland has a NEW duchess, and the joyous ceremonies to celebrate her coming may begin!”
The hall erupted with a deafening cheer and the ground beneath them gave a shudder with the stomping of feet. The sound rose up like a wave, crashing over Dinah, drowning her. She tried to stand, but her body lurched forward so violently that she slipped down two of the marble stairs, her knees and chest hitting the hard stone with a loud CRACK. Her face flamed red as the entire kingdom watched her—the dark, clumsy princess—who now appeared as a stout donkey next to Vittiore’s shining mare. The King gave a chuckle, but there was maliciousness in his eyes as he grasped Dinah roughly by the arm, yanking her to her feet.
“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.
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.
“Yes, Cheshire. That sounds good. Take her away. Get her out of my sight.”
The King of Hearts emerged from behind the throne and began introducing Vittiore to his many lords and ladies clustered at the base of the stairs. Dinah felt hollowed out, a bowl scraped bare, and so she allowed her father’s devious advisor to lead her down a few stairs behind the throne and out a secret door usually used for the King to take his privy leave. They walked halfway down the stone hallway when Cheshire stopped. Turning toward her with a dangerous smile, he pulled back an elaborate wall tapestry near the privy. Dust showered down on them both, but once it cleared, it revealed a door the same shade as the stone around it. Cheshire held a finger to his lips and with an outstretched hand, pushed the door open to reveal a passageway carved into the castle walls.
Dinah was too numb to be impressed, although normally she would have been fascinated. There were many secret ways through Wonderland Palace, and she loved discovering them one at a time. Mostly her days were filled with mind-numbing croquet, etiquette, history, and dancing lessons, but once in a while she was able to slip away from Harris’s watchful eye and explore the palace with Wardley.