Page 38 of Madness Becomes Her

“My head is also rather large for a mouse, sir. I still say you could attain the feat of hatting me. After all, you are the best in Wonderland.”

Her flattery falls flat as Finlo sighs. “It simply can’t be done. That’s that. No mouse will wear a hat as long as I’m the one to design the hat.”

Mitzy huffs, rolling her eyes before giving me a dirty look and dropping to all fours to exit out of a small door I hadn’t realized was carved into the base of the front door. She went with such fervor that the slight opening swung back and forth a few times before stopping and sealing.

“I agree with her. I think you could do it.”

“You think too much. It’s why your head is so large.” Tossing what he was doing on a table beside the couch, he strides out of the room.

“You know,” I say, following him. “You should decide if my head is too large or beautiful. I don’t think it can be both. You’re giving me mixed signals.”

He looks up from where he’s plucking a biscuit onto his plate, rolling his eyes at me. “Of course, a head can be large and also beautiful.”

“I know one woman with a colossal head, and it’s most assuredly not beautiful.”

Finlo drops his plate, rushing me as he’s done before. His hand claps over my lips, even as his twist up in a menacing smile. “One shouldn’t say such things.”

“Sorry,” I utter breathlessly as he takes his hand away.

He winks at me, returning to the food plating, and I’m left bereft.

There are moments when I think the man is off his rocker. Then, there are these moments where he seems like the most sane person around—which is startling. His charisma is shocking, and I’m thankful he doesn’t know how to use it well because I’d be a goner.

I can only hope he doesn’t learn.

Dinner was delicious,and after cleaning everything up, much to Finlo’s dismay, I’m sitting up in bed as he reads from a book. The story is about a toad, or maybe it was a frog? I can’t remember.

All I can do is stare at him. He has readers on the tip of his nose. It makes him even hotter than he usually is, so I’m finding it very hard to focus on anything going on in the story he’s reading.

Finally, he shuts it and says, “The end.”

I clap, to which he smiles.

Leaning over, he blows out the candle on his bedside table, and I do the same. He added one to my side yesterday, and the gesture made me melt, worrying me I’ve been overlooking how badly I’ve been treated if that small of a gesture caused me to gush over a man.

In complete silence, we lie there for a while, Finlo shifting beneath the covers. Me, trying not to fall asleep because I never know which type of dream I’ll have when my eyes shut.

Sometimes, they’re flashbacks from our day, especially if tea and unhinged conversations are involved. Usually, they’re memories that flood me in little bits and pieces.

“Day after tomorrow, we must return to the palace and hat the queen. You can stay home if you’d like.”

His referring to his home as my home twists my stomach and reminds me I’m meant to be trying to find a way back to the mortal world. However, the longer I’m here, the more I don’t know why I want to return.

It’s logical, right? Pining to go home when one is lost?

I don’t feel lost, however.

“Did you hear me?” Finlo asks when I don’t reply.

“I did. Sorry. I was lost in my head.”

“Such a vast place to get lost in.”

“Is that your way of calling my head big?” I ask him, turning on my side.

The moon’s glow illuminates the room enough to see him smile as he mirrors my position on the bed. “No. I only meant the mind is a wondrous, vast place. It’s easy to get lost there.”

“Ahh.”