Queen of Hearts: The Crown (Queen of Hearts Saga #1)(4)
“Don’t ever say that about the King of Hearts!” he had cried. “Do you wish to be beheaded?”
“No,” she cried hysterically, “I only want him to notice me!”
Harris had held her close that day, stroking her hair. “He will never be the father you deserve,” he whispered. He brought Dinah her favorite tart and then they watched the sunset from the croquet green, a rare treat.
“If he wasn’t King,” Dinah sniffled, “maybe he would love me.”
“Oh, child,” replied Harris, “that is not to be. Your father is a brutish man, and unsure of his place in his child’s life, even when your mother was still alive. Queen Davianna was all he had, the only thing he ever desired more than the rush of battle and the smell of fresh blood on his Heartsword. They had a terrible end and I fear somehow he blames you.”
Dinah thought of this now in the Great Hall as she knelt awkwardly before the thrones. The King’s advisor and head of the council, a Diamond Card named Cheshire, bent and whispered soft words in his ear with a feline smile. Dinah’s stomach gave a lurch at the sight of him. She did not trust Cheshire. The King growled back at him and then stood. He gave a sigh and rose to greet her.
“Dinah, my daughter, my eldest child. I see you are wearing your mother’s shoes.” Dinah felt a flush rise in her cheeks. He noticed! she thought. The King cleared his throat. “Look up.”
She yanked her head up too quickly and the crown slipped sideways off of her head and landed with a clang on the marble. She saw a frown cross his face.
“Don’t be so eager,” he hissed quietly. “You look ridiculous with that wanting face.”
Dinah felt her lower lip quiver. She clamped her teeth down on it, drawing sweet red blood that she sucked into her mouth. He knelt and picked up the crown, such a diminutive thing in his large hand. He placed it back on her head with a strained smile. The crowd gave a courteous laugh, unaware of his seething anger. The King stood, his long red cloak framing his massive, bull-like figure.
“My daughter. Councilors, lords and ladies of the court, Cards, and citizens, it is time for your King to tell you a great truth.” He looked down at Dinah. “Sit,” he said to her and her alone.
Dinah tried to sit like a lady should, but she ended up plopping on the floor with a hard breath. She stared up at him, intimidated by his powerful tone. She looked around. There was not a face in the room that was not held in rapt attention by his booming voice.
“Thirteen years ago, we were embroiled in a devastating war with the Yurkei tribe. Mundoo and his warriors were raiding the outer villages of Wonderland proper, killing and murdering innocent citizens. As the King, I could not let that evil abide. As you might remember, I took my best Hearts and Spades through the Twisted Wood, and up to the hills where we smashed the barbaric tribe and sent Mundoo screaming back into his mountains. It was a great day for Wonderland, a great day for the safety of my people.”
The crowd clapped and cheered until the King looked down solemnly and they grew suddenly silent. He was able to command a room by his moods alone, Dinah noted, something to remember when she was Queen one day.
“We lost many brave Cards that day. I hope that what I confess today will bring them some sort of honor.”
An uncomfortable feeling was churning its way through Dinah’s stomach as she sat at the floor of the throne. Her heart was clutching in on itself, giving singular, hard thumps that made loud noises when they met her chest. The King did not notice. He continued on.
“War is bloody and brutal, a thing that can rip through the very heart of men. War can make a man question everything he believes in, every truth that he holds dear. Wonderland has never seen war, so allow me to confess that war can make a man . . . lonely.”
The crowd nodded along sympathetically, and in the corner a woman burst into tears. Dinah imagined shaking her until she was quiet. The King had them in his grasp. His dark-blue eyes, deep like the sea, blazed with pride.
“As our laws decry, one might ask for forgiveness for a mistake made during a time of war. I had been away from my dear wife Davianna for too long. Gods rest her heart.”
The entire crowd, including Dinah, made the sign of a heart over their chests.
“She was the love of my life, and when I left for war, I never imagined it would take so long to return to her. And to my eternal shame . . . ,” the crowd waited with bated breath as the Great Hall stood still, “gods, forgive me, I strayed outside of my marriage vows.”
There was a sharp intake of breath from the room; Dinah gasped as well.
“It was a late night, after the battle, and I had drunk a large bottle of tart wine. Outside of my tent, I met a woman from a local village at the base of the mountains. She was kind and generous, and reminded me so much of my Davianna. My judgment was impaired, and I was grief-stricken for my lost men. We shared that night together and in the morning I awoke to instant, blinding regret. How could I betray my beloved Davianna? What kind of king was I?” There was a pause.
“That night I found a nearby cliff and prepared to throw myself over.”
There was another sharp gasp and murmurs erupted in the Great Hall. Two women fainted and had to be carried out by Heart Cards. The King gave a sly smile toward his advisor Cheshire, whose rich purple cloak draped over his thin shoulders. Cheshire gave him a quick wink. Only Dinah was close enough to see the exchange.