The Wonder (Queen of Hearts Saga #2)(39)
Dinah noticed the dagger that sat innocently in front of him—its handle turned inward—his weapon of choice, at the ready if she should attack him. Unmoved by her presence, he licked the tips of his fingers.
“Mmm… this one is delicious.” His voice jarred Dinah back from the dark paralyzed place in her mind, and her hand brushed the tip of her dagger. His eyes followed her fingers. “I wouldn’t throw that, Princess. I’m sure your skill has improved since arriving here, but if you do that you will get none of the answers you seek, and I believe you seek answers more than you seek revenge, at least at this moment. Trust me when I say I can give you both.”
Dinah narrowed her eyes and pulled her dagger out of its sheath. Her voice finally clawed its way up her throat. “Tell me one reason why I shouldn’t I kill you where you sit,” she hissed. “Tell me why I shouldn’t slit your throat open right here, and then dine on these tarts as your blood pools over the table. I’d do it happily.”
Cheshire’s eyes sparkled as he looked through her. “Because then you’ll hardly enjoy them. Tarts and blood are not complementary on the palate. Also, it’s bad manners, or so your mother should have taught you.” My mother. How dare he? Dinah was on him in a second, holding his neck and pressing the blade of the dagger against his main artery. She yanked his head back by his greasy black hair. Tarts spilled from their elaborately orchestrated places as his legs slammed against the corner of the table. He twisted suddenly, and Dinah loosened her grip on the dagger, wary of cutting into his thin neck skin. She did want answers—but she also wanted him to feel the fear that could overcome a person in seconds, like diving into icy water. He twisted quickly and furiously, and she pulled back her blade, and then suddenly he was behind her, pressing his body against hers, his hand not on his dagger but wrapped around her mouth. She had made a fatal mistake.
His mouth brushed her ear. “Does this feel familiar, Princess?” he hissed. Then he lowered his voice significantly and Dinah felt chills rush up her spine. “Perhaps from the night I saved your life and sent you running with a bag strapped across your shoulders? The night when I told you to GO NOW, and yet, like an idiot, you visited Charles’s chamber instead?” Dinah’s body went weak. Cheshire—he was the stranger who had saved her life? She stopped struggling and stood stunned in the clearing.
Cheshire slowly removed his hand from her mouth and tucked a hair back behind her ear. “Now Dinah, be a good girl and sit down. I have much to tell you, and you look famished. Have some tea and tarts. I would be bereft if you broke my favorite teapot by flailing all over the place. It was not easy to get all of this out here.”
Her body shaking, Dinah let him lead her to a chair at the other end of the table. She still clutched her dagger and Cheshire made no attempt to take his own—an elaborate show to make her feel more in control, no doubt. At the other end of the table, he settled into his chair and took another sip of tea as he straightened the tablecloth and tea cups.
“Now. Where to begin? I have so much to tell you, but I guess we’ll start at the beginning, since most of the things I dabble in start with ME anyway.”
Dinah stared at him, hatred simmering in her eyes.
“I was born in Verrader, a small fishing village by the Western Slope. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.” Dinah hadn’t. “My parents were poor but well educated, due to the diligence of the priests in that town, who felt that every child deserved a decent education, misguided as they were. They raised me to be a fisherman, like them, though they also raised me to memorize the literature and languages of Wonderland. I hated fishing, and I grew up dreaming of the day when I would leave that sorry little town, with its brutal children who would rise up to be nothing more than fish mongers and innkeepers.
“As a child I was teased mercilessly, only because they could see I was fiercely intelligent. Even more damagingly to their pride, I had no interest in the life for which they were destined. My father found this disappointing as well, and when I turned twelve he began beating me to within an inch of my life with disturbing frequency.
“On the day I turned sixteen, I left home, but not before I plundered my father’s hidden wealth. There was a large rock on the shore, one that he walked past each day. There was a nest of seaweed at the base, and as I understood it, most seaweed decays and disintegrates. Even as a young child, I had noticed this seaweed didn’t. It stayed fresh, because he refreshed it every few days. My suspicions were correct—that was where my father had stored his money, buried deep in the Earth, under the seaweed. The money was plentiful. He had been hiding money there for years, storing it away for booze and women, though my mother and I went hungry most days. I took all of his money, and spilled to the local builder that my father had been bedding his wife.
“The next day, I took my father’s horse and rode east for Wonderland Palace and the life that I had dreamed of. Upon arriving there, I immediately found work in the jewelry shop, counting numbers and keeping accounts. I’m good with numbers, books and things that can be, how shall we say, manipulated? The accountant that had been there before me suddenly took ill, and I took his place at the shop. I updated all of the accounts and made sure that everyone’s debts were paid to the jeweler—something that the previous accountant had been too lenient about.”
Cheshire shook his head. “The people of Wonderland dream of being appointed to the court, and so they spend their money on jewels to dazzle the royals who, as you know, never notice such things. The people wanted these jewels and yet didn’t want to pay for them. Within a year, I quickly settled all of our debts, and by doing this I became well-known in Wonderland proper for being a man who got what he wanted. I caught the eye of a local banker, who hired me, and then the eye of another well-known banker, who put me in charge of everything when his main account man disappeared. Upon my arrival, I was presented with a problem from the man who owned the bank: there was a very large amount of credit lent out to a wealthy merchant who had avoided or beaten every collector sent to collect.”