The Crown (3 page)

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.

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.

“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.

With a frown, she granted Cheshire a raised whisper as she wiped a stray tear away from her eye. “Where does it go?” asked Dinah.

He was silent.

“Where does it go?” she asked again, annoyed.

He simply nodded his head in the direction of the tunnel. Dinah ducked under the door, her heart hammering equally with dread and curiosity. After a few swift turns down mud-caked stairs, they ended up in a damp stone passage lit by glowing pink lanterns. The twists seemed endless. Cheshire talked quietly as they walked, the high lilt of his voice echoing off the walls.

“I’m sure this was hard for you today, Your Highness. Not only are you getting a younger and much more beautiful sister in your fifteenth year of life, but you heard a clear tale of your father’s infidelity to your dear mother, gods rest her heart. An intelligent girl like you can’t be surprised. Your father’s
desires
for other women are well known.” Cheshire paused, stroking his long chin. “He did not deserve Davianna.”

“Don’t speak of my mother, you didn’t know her. And she’s not my sister,” snapped Dinah. “She’s a bastard child.”

Cheshire’s thin fingers wrapped around her elbow, and she found herself yanked backwards, face-to-face with him, their noses inches from touching. His lips curled back in anger, revealing his hungry white teeth.

“Listen to me, Dinah,” he hissed. “You must NEVER let the King of Hearts hear you say that. Things are going to change for you, child, and you had better be made of stronger stuff than the whiny brat you seem to be now.”

Dinah yanked her body back from his. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she replied, her voice wavering. “And I don’t care. That girl is NOT my sister, and you are not Harris. You know nothing about me. Where is he? Where is Harris?”

“Harris is not here, not that he would be of much use to you outside of tutoring and picking out your gowns in the morning. He does not know about this passage. No one does, just you and me. There might come a time when it will be of use to you, I am sure. There are many curious things in Wonderland Palace and the Black Towers, more than you could ever imagine.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “You had best learn everything you do not already know, Princess. Up until now you have been a spoiled girl who spends her days playing in the stables or dreaming of adventures with Wardley. Wonderland is a much darker and more twisted place than you imagine.”

Something inside of Dinah broke. She could take no more of his ridiculous cryptic warnings or his venomous smile. It occurred to her that he was probably here on an errand from the King, to scare her into accepting Vittiore.

“Why are you talking to me?” she snapped. “I HATE YOU! Don’t touch me!”

Spinning quickly away from Cheshire, she plunged into the dark tunnel ahead, not looking where she was running, not caring. She was sprinting now, her breathing heavy, her footsteps echoing through the darkness. She turned once, and then once again, spinning deeper and deeper into the depths of the tunnel, until all she could smell was earth and cold. Cheshire faded into the darkness behind her, his calls for her fading quietly into the black. She sprinted beneath the depths of the palace, as fast as her jeweled feet could carry her. She turned right, then left, then slipped through a vertical slit in the wall. The dancing pink flames of the lanterns dimmed gradually as the tunnel deepened.

Dinah wasn’t thinking—only running, running as fast as she could. She kept seeing her father’s proud gaze at Vittiore and the devastated expression on Harris’s face as he let her walk into the Great Hall. The tunnel narrowed and, through her tears, Dinah could see the stone walls closing in on her. Close to hysterics, Dinah knelt on the cold floor and let the tears wash out, a pouring sob that was deafeningly loud in the tight space. Weeping and pounding on the stone, she let out a loud scream of anger
.

How dare he? How dare he be unfaithful to her mother? How dare he bring her in front of the court only to shame her? Why did he HATE her so much?

In her mind, she saw Vittiore. Vittiore, her new sister, the bastard of her father’s loins, the proof that he didn’t love her mother as he claimed so publicly. Vittiore, with her long blond hair and cornflower-blue eyes. Dinah raked long furrows into the damp earth. She vowed to herself that she would never befriend Vittiore. NEVER. She would not speak to her unless forced, and she would not see her perfectly formed face if she could avoid it. It would never be. Speaking to Vittiore would be a betrayal to her mother.
Her mother. . . .