Page 25

Chapter

Twenty-Three

M y dress is gorgeous—a deep crimson masterpiece of feather-light red silk embroidered with gold thread.

The full skirts whisper against the floor as I walk in the matching red boots.

Gwyneth strides out of the bathing chamber in a dress similar to mine, except hers is black with gold thread. She looks stunning, like a princess.

“Charming is going to lose his shit,” I observe.

The genie floats between us, stroking his chin. “Something’s missing,” he says, tilting his head. He twirls his hand, and my hat lifts into the air.

“Hey,” I protest, jumping up to grab it.

Genie rolls his eyes. “I’ll store it for later. It hardly matches your dress.”

My hair lifts and twists into an intricate hairdo, a gold ribbon threading through it. He snaps his fingers, and a ruby crown materialises in the air before settling onto my head.

After he’s finished with me, he twirls a finger, and an onyx crown appears on Gwyneth’s head, her golden hair twisting into an elegant plait around it.

“I feel like an imposter,” I grumble. Enormous dresses, heels, and crowns aren’t me. I’m not royalty, no matter what finery someone dresses me in.

“You deserve to be valued just as much as the next maiden,” Gwyneth states with a firm nod. “Hold your head high, Daphne. Those who wear crowns don’t ask for permission.”

Eron appears in the large mirror. “Wow,” he breathes. “You look?—”

“Most fair, I know,” I interrupt.

He shakes his head. “Fair is not about beauty, Daphne. Fair is about what’s in your heart, and that will never change. But right now, you look stunning.”

I’ve never considered that being the most fair isn’t about surface-level beauty. I’ve learned something new.

Sir Sweeps-A-Lot hovers above the bed, wearing a fancy red bow tie on his handle. He swoops down and runs his bristles along Gwyneth’s skirts, and then mine.

“He agrees,” the genie notes.

A knock reverberates on the solid door, startling me. As I turn to answer it, Eron shouts, “Don’t forget me!” I scoop him up, as we aren’t planning on returning to these chambers.

Here goes nothing. I take a deep breath before pulling open the doors and am greeted by four handsome faces. Malachi’s eyes widen, Hart blinks, Nash swallows, and Theo’s eyes flash gold. They are dressed in an array of black and red. At least we match.

“Cat got your tongues?” I wonder.

Hart bows slightly before offering me his hand. “You are a vision, Daphne, on a normal diurnal. But, and I speak for my brothers when I say this, in red silk, you are a dangerous woman who could command the world at her feet.”

My heart and confidence swell as I take his hand, feeling the weight of their gazes upon me. He tugs me closer, his mouth brushing against my ear. “What will I find when I tear this dress from your body with my teeth?”

My throat bobs. The question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation, and I can sense the collective draw of breath from the knights behind him. “A corset and panties.” I needed to wear them to get this dress to sit correctly on my frame.

Hart nips my ear playfully, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Matching?” he demands.

I nod once.

“Fuck,” Nash growls, his voice low but laced with unmistakable hunger. I hand Hart the mirror, which he slips into his pocket.

“Oh my, it’s dark here, nestled in the breeches of a meaty knight,” Eron says.

I press my ruby-stained lips together.

“Let me see my Gwyneth,” Charming complains.

His Gwyneth? Hmm.

Nash and Theo part to allow Charming through, my capons following at his feet. Little traitors. His mouth flops open, and he stares at my sister. “You are a vision,” he whispers. Must be a first for Charming that he’s appreciating her more than his own reflection.

Gwyneth blushes, and my jaw drops to the floor. My sister, blushing. I snap my mouth closed and turn away, shaking my head. My knights surround me, leading me down the stairs and into the wide hallway.

Hart and Theo flank my sides, looping my arms, while Nash and Malachi stand beside them. My spine straightens, and I tilt my nose. World at my feet, I chant in my head.

Gwyneth and Charming follow behind us with my gang of magical creatures at their sides.

My heart races in time with the heavy beat of music echoing in front us.

What does a ball look like in Wonderland?

My skin heats in remembrance of the circus with Hart and Malachi.

The feeling here is similar, a sultry invitation to leave proprietary at the door.

Guards flank a doorway at the end of the hallway. They swing it open, and the swell of laughter, low and knowing, caresses my skin.

The White Rabbit waits in the center, his leg thumping on the floor impatiently. “You’re late,” he grumbles as he gazes at his pocket watch.

My eyes skim the expansive room, taking in the display before us. Storm clouds, tinged red and pregnant with the promise of a storm, fill the high ceiling. Giant swathes of red and black silk flutter in a breeze.

“Spread out, as discussed,” Nash says. Wait. They have a plan, and I wasn’t part of the discussion? Rude. Nash, Malachi, and Theo slink off, leaving me with Hart and the thoughts of his teeth against my flesh.

My eyes lift, trying to find something to distract me.

A haunting melody fills the stage at the other end of the room.

Animated instruments sit on it, but no players are present.

Folks dance in synchronisation across the wooden floor, their feet never missing a step, creating a perfection I could never achieve.

The hatter appears in front of me, a frown marring his handsome face as he sips on a cup of tea. “Where is your hat?”

“It hardly blended with my dress,” I explain. “The crown is better for this occasion.”

“You’ve got quite the face for ruling,” he muses. “But does it come with the mind for it? Or will your crown weigh too heavy?”

“I don’t wish to rule,” I point out. I wish everyone would stop hinting that it’s my fate.

He skims my body and sighs. “Hold this,” he says, offering me the cup. I disentangle my arms from the knights at my sides and grab the cup. The liquid lifts into the air, trying to escape. I turn the cup upside down and collect the tea.

The hatter leans forward and whispers, “Abdito eam ab nefaria intentione et maleficis regibus. Cave ne vera eius identitas, ut filia Creatoris, agnoscatur.”

Magic sweeps over my body, and I suck in a breath. “What did you do?” I breathe.

“Saved your life, again. The first was for free. Now you are in my debt, Daphne Stone.”

He can get in line. I’m already in debt to an Idol.

“Our guest of honor has arrived,” the Red Queen announces as she swans across the floor, wearing a huge red and black dress that trails on the floor behind her like a wedding veil.

The hatter retrieves his cup, freeing up my hands. The Red Queen holds her gloved hand out in front of me and wiggles her fingers adorned with heavy jewels. Um...

“They are beautiful,” I tell her, hoping she is fishing for a compliment.

Charming scoffs from behind me and steps around us. He bows low and kisses the queen’s hand, making me grimace. That’s a weird little custom. Who knows where they’ve been?

“Come, Daphne, I have a seat saved for you especially,” the queen declares, unbothered by my refusal to kiss anything on her.

“You wear a crown well, but a throne is no fairy tale.” She doesn’t need to tell me this, and my life has never been a fairy tale.

We’ve survived on the slightest of foods and the barest of belongings, and I still consider myself richer because of the freedom being unknown afforded me.

Being trapped inside a narrative as I am now is a nightmare.

She guides me over to the throne where she takes a seat, indicating I should sit beside her in an ornate, but smaller, chair.

I fold myself into it, and Hart settles a hand on my shoulder, letting me know he’s at my back.

My gaze zeroes in on Nash, Malachi, and finally, Theo.

They are attempting to mingle but they are something to behold, untainted by the magic of this land, and everyone stops to stare at them.

Charming leads Gwyneth in a dance, but her eyes land on me whenever she gets the chance.

The queen gestures at the room—at the laughter, the music, the swirling decadence. “It is all smoke, mirrors, and performance. Do you understand this?”

I focus on the genuine feeling, the wide eyes, the tremor of the people watching us. “You rule with fear.”

The queen smirks. “And yet, my head remains quite attached. Can you say the same for those who rule with love?”

“Love isn’t weak. Fear is fickle and easily broken, and then your power is lost in the wind. Love offers security. It cannot be bought with jewels and riches. It is pure.”

The queen scoffs. “Let me demonstrate the power of your love.”

She snaps her fingers and from the sides of the room, stunning females swirl, their gossamer dresses doing little to hide their assets. Men and women alike gasp as they brush against them, ensnaring them with their beauty.

I tense as they split off to target the knights. Hart’s hand tightens on my shoulder in a silent command. Trust them.

The queen leans forward. One female reaches out and curls her hand around Nash’s jaw.

My heart stills. He stiffens, glances at her briefly in annoyance, and then shoves her away.

Blood pounds in my ears as my heart takes flight.

The gorgeous women tempt each of the knights, and each of them rebuffs their advances.

“Impossible,” the queen snaps. “No one can resist the sirens.”

But my knights aren’t just anyone. They are mine.

“Unless their souls already belong to another,” the hatter mutters. I glance at him next to the queen. When did he get there?

The Red Queen snaps her head around to glare at me. “You have found true love? There is no such thing in Wonderland.”

“How sad,” I whisper. “Perhaps it is time for a change. Love exists no matter your decree, but you have to open your heart to let it in. You are, after all, the queen of hearts first and foremost.”

She huffs. “I do not waste my time with hearts any longer. It is why I am known as the Red Queen. I make them bleed, not swoon. It is easier, cleaner, and gives them more stability.”

She justifies beheading her people for stability? I almost pity her.

Nash’s eyes catch mine as he moves through the crowd.

The dancers part for him, his eyes never leaving mine.

For a moment, they turn gold and then flash back to green.

My dark knight is hiding secrets from me, and he needs to spill them soon.

I won’t tolerate knowing only half of him, not when he owns a piece of my soul, and I hold a slice of his.

He halts in front of us. “Queen, you are dazzling this evening, but I wish to steal my woman for a dance.”

The queen flicks her fingers in dismissal. Probably so she can figure out how to unpick my love for these men. I take Nash’s hand and let him lead me to the center of the dance floor. His hand grips my waist possessively, and I rest my free one on his shoulder.

“I don’t really know how to dance,” I tell him. I can bumble through a few steps, but a full on synchronised dancing expedition? No way.

“Don’t worry. I’ll lead.”

We launch into a set of moves, and I relax into his hold and stop worrying about what I look like to everyone else. I am having fun, so screw them.

Nash leans down, and his lips touch my ear, eliciting a shiver down my spine. “Are you ready for when the clock strikes midnight?”

“I am.” We’d purposefully arrived late, so that midnight would approach faster and I would have less time to get into trouble.

“So this corset,” he says.

A wicked smile pulls my lips up. My dark, mysterious knight has a thing for sexy lingerie apparently, or perhaps it’s the red silk.

“Yes?”

“And the panties?”

“What of them?”

“Also red silk?”

“Yes, crimson like my dress.” He growls low, the rumble caressing my skin before settling deep in my core. “You have a thing for red?”

“I have a thing for you in red.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what you are hiding behind the mysterious teacher facade that you have the rest of the realm fooled into believing is you?”

He jerks back. “You noticed that?”

“I notice everything about you.”

He clenches his jaw. “Soon, you will know all of me. I just have to hope you don’t run, Daphne, because I don’t have the willpower not to chase you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper, and then seal that promise with a heated kiss that makes me think of dangerous things. How I long for a reprieve from all these fate and Idol demands.

Nash spins me out, breaking our lips apart, and releases my hand. Theo catches me and leads me through another set of dance moves. I am helpless to do anything but follow.

“You know, the last time we were dancing at a ball, you were rescuing your sister and disappearing on a flying unicorn.”

“I remember, and that was because you kept underestimating me.”

“Our mistake. I hope we have proved otherwise now.”

Another whirl through the room, and I find myself in the arms of a grinning Malachi. “She’s watching you like a cat watches a mouse,” Malachi notes as his eyes narrow on the queen.

“Then maybe it’s time I stop being the mouse,” I murmur.

The music slows, and the clock hand strikes midnight. Chess’s violet eyes appear above the queen’s head. We come to a stop and turn toward the queen and the watching court.

A mischievous smile spreads across my lips. “Your Majesty,” I call out, my voice carrying through the ballroom. The Red Queen lifts a curious brow. I push my shoulders back. “Let’s play a game.”

The room stills, and the self-playing instruments go quiet. The queen leans forward, interest and delight in her gaze. “What kind of game?”

“Hide and seek.”

The queen’s lips curl, her eyes gleaming. “My dear, are you sure you wish to be the one hiding?”

The knowledge gifted to me by the strange cat whispers through my mind, making me lift my chin and square my shoulders. Using her real name is the only way to bind her into a promise. “No, Seraphina of Hearts. I challenge you to be hunted this night.”