Ruler of Beasts (Dorothy Must Die, #0.6)(7)
“I would love some refreshments,” the Lion said happily.
“Very well, sir. This way, please.”
The Lion followed Reedus down the familiar corridors of the palace. Ozma’s touches were everywhere: every alcove was filled with fresh flowers, the floors were spotless and polished, the walls hung with beautiful Ozian landscapes. He recognized the lush field of poppies where he had once fallen into a most perilous sleep. Rainbow Falls was depicted in all its dazzling, multicolored splendor; real mist drifted from the painting and left a faint, sparkling rainbow dust on his fur. Leaning in to examine an image of distant mountains, he could feel a cool breeze drifting from the tall, snowy peaks. The servants all wore matching uniforms and identical expressions of contentment. “The place looks nice,” the Lion remarked.
“Ozma is a wonderful queen,” his guide agreed earnestly. He ushered the Lion into a large chamber. Huge picture windows looked out over the palace gardens, and an elaborately carved four-poster bed nearly the size of the Lion’s entire platform in the forest dominated the far end of the room. The Lion flopped down on the bed with a sigh of satisfaction, ignoring the expression of horror that flashed across the Munchkin’s face at the sight of his muddy paws dirtying the lace bedspread.
“About those refreshments,” the Lion growled. Bowing and nodding, the little servant backed into the hallway and disappeared.
Moments later, the room was full of activity. A team of a dozen Pixies flew in, steering a huge tub of steaming water that rolled along atop an invisible bubble of magic and a pile of towels. A Munchkin brought a platter of roasted meat, and another hurried toward the Lion with a brush and comb. The Lion was far more interested in a meal than in hygiene, but he allowed himself to be hustled into the bathtub. He munched happily as the Pixies shampooed his fur and combed the tangles out of his mane and tail. When he was thoroughly clean, more Pixies took away the bathwater while a Munchkin toweled him dry and brushed his fur until it shone. Finally, another Munchkin brought him a mirror. The Lion admired himself for a moment. “I look so respectable no one will recognize me!” he exclaimed.
Reedus reappeared. “Ozma is ready to receive you, Your Highness,” he said. The Lion followed him down another series of hallways to the Emerald Palace’s throne room. As with everywhere else in the palace, Ozma had redecorated the throne room to within an inch of its life. Elaborate murals depicted the history of Oz, and stained-glass windows refracted the sunlight into hundreds of patches of emerald green. Ozma sat regally in her throne, her golden crown sparkling in the sunlight and her rich green robes spilling to the floor around her. But other than a few servants, the throne room was nearly empty, and she looked tiny and lost all alone in the vast space.
“His Highness the Lion, King of the Beasts,” Reedus announced, but Ozma was already rising to her feet.
“Lion!” she exclaimed, picking up the hem of her robe and scampering toward him like a little girl. She flung her arms around his neck. “It’s so good to see you!” The Lion was so surprised at her delight that he began to purr.
Ozma leaned back and looked at him closely. “You’re looking very well, dear Lion,” she said. The Lion refrained from mentioning this was due to the attentions of her minions. “What brings you to the palace?”
The Lion realized he hadn’t thought of a cover story for his trip to the palace. He couldn’t exactly tell Ozma that Glinda had said she was bored and lonely. Glinda had made it clear he wasn’t supposed to mention her at all. Now, with Ozma staring at him quizzically, he could barely think.
“It, uh, seemed time to pay my respects,” he said, feeling slightly ridiculous. But Ozma only laughed.
“But you were here for my coronation! You didn’t need to come all this way just to see me again!”
Suddenly, the Lion was seized by a fit of inspiration. “To tell you the truth, Your Majesty, being king isn’t quite what I thought it would be,” he confessed in a low voice. “Being in power is a little lonely. I thought you might have some advice.”
Silently, he congratulated himself on his cleverness as Ozma’s cheerful smile turned to a look of sympathy. “I know just what you mean,” she said quietly. “Have you eaten, dear Lion?”
“No,” the Lion said untruthfully. Ozma rang a silver bell next to her throne and the servants leapt to attention. “Please serve dinner for my guest and me in my chambers,” she ordered. “We wish to dine privately.” She turned to the Lion. “Come, dear Lion. We have much to discuss.”
FIVE
Ozma’s chambers were beautifully appointed, and the Lion cast an admiring glance at the soft, thick carpets and gorgeous antique furniture. “The palace didn’t look half so nice when Scare was king,” he remarked, and a troubled look passed across Ozma’s face.
“Do you think?” she asked politely, but something was clearly bothering her. Glinda had been vague about why the Scarecrow had left the Emerald City and retired to his mansion, and the Scarecrow had never mentioned the reason himself. Or at least he’d never actually gotten to that part in Scare’s letters. He regretted now not finishing them.
“Did something happen between you and Scare?” the Lion asked. Ozma flushed.
“We both thought he would be happier away from the palace,” she said quickly, but it was clear she wasn’t telling him the whole truth. She shot the Lion an uncertain look, and then sighed. “To be honest, I’m not sure the Scarecrow has the best interests of Oz at heart. I know he’s your friend, and I don’t mean to speak ill of him. But he and Glinda—well, they spent a lot of time together whispering in corners, if you know what I mean. Glinda has her own ideas about how to run Oz, as I’m sure you know.” His first thought was to defend Scare. Scare may have had his head too deeply in his books and he might have missed the throne, but he was a threat to no one, and especially not to Oz. He was surprised by the bitter note in her voice, and for a moment he nearly told her that Glinda herself had sent him. But then he remembered the menace in Glinda’s parting words and thought better of it. There was some mystery here to be unraveled, and he was beginning to realize that Glinda hadn’t been entirely honest with him about her motives—or about why she’d left the palace.