Page 81 of Madness Becomes Her

“We’re not done.”

After another hour of primping, makeup, and doting, I’m walking out of the bedroom when Beau comes bounding down the hall.

“You’re late!”

I roll my eyes. “Not you, too. You can’t rush beauty.”

“Not when you look like death you can’t,” he says, wagging his tail as he trots beside me down the stairs.

“Want me to carry you down?” I ask.

“And ruin the look you’re barely keeping together? No, I’m fine.”

“You’re very snarky today.”

He snorts. “Didn’t sleep well last night. Sorry.”

“I completely understand, actually.”

I sit beside the White Queen when we get to the tea party. Beau hops onto a chair opposite me and looks much like his father as his watchful eyes scan the table.

“Has the March Hare arrived yet, Cirius?” the White Queen asks, her eyes narrowing at the massive clock hanging from a post at the end of the table.

I don’t know what the obsession with time is all about in Wonderland, but I know by the worried looks on the surrounding faces that Lewis and Hatter are late.

My throat constricts as fear claws up my spine.

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Any word from Acacius?”

My eyes move between them, hoping for good news.

“No, Your Majesty. He hasn’t sounded the alarm. No one’s used the caves.”

Swallowing, I fidget in my chair. “Something’s wrong. Lewis is never late.”

The White Queen’s eyes narrow as if the cogs are turning behind them. “Indeed.”

A thunderous amount of chatter falls over the table, worried tittering amongst the ranks.

The queen stands and walks toward the door leading into the palace with Cirius and another guard, and I’m left staring into Beau’s worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks, but I can’t answer.

I can’t think past the anxious thrumming of my heart or the way my stomach is churning.

I thrust inside the palace, rushing past the guards and the queen and racing for my room.

Beau is on my heels, but I don’t acknowledge him.

Once inside, I leave the door ajar as I gather my things. The Vorpal Blade lies on a table near the door, sheathed and gleaming in the streams of sunlight filtering through the room.

“What are you going to do?” Beau asks, barely leaping out of the way when I toss a pillow, searching for a missing shirt.

“I’m going to find them. They could be in danger.”

“Hatter wanted you to remain here until he returned. It’s not safe.”