The Crown (17 page)

Palma narrowed her eyes. “Emily is not as loyal as you think.”

“Quiet, Palma” snapped Nanda.

“Both of you, shush now. You forget your place,” Vittiore ordered quietly. “Go back to my chambers and prepare some thistle tea for the Princess and me. Now.”

Palma and Nanda gave an irritated bow and scampered off toward Vittiore’s chambers, their steps perfectly in sync. Dinah placed her hands on the hips of her striped gown, suddenly feeling very plain. “I have no desire for tea. I give you permission to enjoy it with your gossipy and useless maidservants. Goodbye.” She turned to go.

“No, wait. Just one cup.”

Dinah tilted her head and stared at her half sister, the Duchess of Wonderland. They had never been together without the King, not once since Vittiore had arrived. Dinah avoided Vittiore at all costs, and she had assumed Vittiore had done the same. They were never scheduled for the same activities, the same meals or lessons. She saw her occasionally for royal balls, croquet games, and more tedious matters of Wonderland, such as council meetings, but that was just a few times a year. During those times, Vittiore looked equally as bored as Dinah, only with a hint of fear. She had always been slight and lovely, which made the much-more-solid Dinah feel like a clumsy giant around her, even here in this cavernous hallway.

Vittiore gestured again behind her. “Please, Your Highness. Just one cup with me. I apologize for Nanda and Palma. I promise the view from my balcony is quite picturesque.”

When a blunt rejection alighted on her tongue, Dinah reluctantly bit it back. Perhaps she could glean some understanding of what Faina Baker was mumbling about from speaking with Vittiore. She obviously had secrets to hide. Faina’s ramblings were still steeped in mystery and cryptic madness; they remained a dark puzzle. She would have to be creative to decipher their meaning. “I will have one cup of tea.”

Vittiore tripped over the edges of her gown as she turned around. “Oof! These are always too long. I can lead you there.”

“I am well aware of where your apartments are,” Dinah snapped. “They were my mother’s.” They walked in silence, the heavy steps of the Heart Cards clanking behind them.

“It’s a lovely day outside, is it not? I am glad to see that spring is finally here,” whispered Vittiore.

“I prefer winter,” Dinah replied curtly. “I relish the frozen air blowing in from the Todren.”

Vittiore’s curls gave a slight shudder as she pushed open the door to her apartments. The stone hallway opened up into a bright, beautiful room. Vittiore’s windows faced the Western Slope, which eventually reached the sea. Several small towns inside Wonderland proper could be seen from her window. Dinah quietly marveled at how different Vittiore’s room was from hers. Dinah’s apartment was filled from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. It was large and decorated with ancient treasures—globes and tiny ship models, but it would never be called lovely. It was designed for a man, for the heir her father once dreamed he would have.

Vittiore’s room was the very definition of lovely. It was airy and light, very different from when Dinah had seen it last, when everything was dark and draped with black fabric, a sign of mourning for her mother. Now, gossamer pastel fabrics draped the walls, moving slightly in the breeze. Every piece of furniture was painted a pale blue, and her upholstery was a swirl of bright, pretty colors. A white peacock strutted proudly across the room, pecking at Dinah’s feet. Vittiore scooped him up.

“This is Gryphon.” She petted the bird’s head. He gave a happy shiver. “My tea room is over here, by the window.”

Her rose tea table was tiny, Dinah noted. She barely had enough room to sit across from Vittiore without their elbows touching. She must always have tea alone, she thought, thankful that her own tea table was large enough to fit Harris and Emily alongside her. Palma and Nanda hovered over the table, watching Dinah’s every move with their meticulously shaped eyebrows and brightly painted faces.

Vittiore noticed Dinah’s frown as Palma set down a clear-glass teacup. “I think the Princess and I will have tea privately. Leave us.”

“But, Your Highness,” argued Palma, “we always stand watch for tea. What if you need something?”

“It’s alright Palma.”

“But, Your Highness, should the water run out, or the tarts need replenishing, how will we hear you? I really think it best we stay.”

Dinah could see from the interaction that Vittiore had little control over her maidservants—it was more the other way around. She seemed to fear them. Dinah wasn’t surprised. The Dee family was made up of relentless social climbers, their loyalty shifting with the wind.

Dinah snapped her fingers. “Leave us, NOW. If you will not listen to the Duchess, you will listen to ME, your future Queen. Make haste.”

Palma curtsied and left the room with a loud sigh.

“I’m sorry, they are very protective of me,” Vittiore apologized.

“It is not my concern,” shrugged Dinah.

There were a few moments of silence. Dinah looked at her cup. Since the steaming water had been poured over the prickly purple flower, one of its side petals had unfurled, filling half the cup with a strange glowing petal. A tiny stream of red liquid now poured forth from the center of the flower, which tinted the cup and the water crimson.

“What is this? I’ve never seen this tea flower.”

Vittiore brought the cup to her lips and blew. “It’s called a blood thistle. It’s a wild shrub that grows out there, on the Western Slope.” She nodded her head to the window. “It makes the most wonderful tea.”

Dinah raised the cup to her lips.
Please don’t be poison
, she thought, as she took a timid sip. The tea was delicious—a heavy citrus flavor danced across her tongue before it began to buzz with an earthy aftertaste.

“It is wonderful,” Dinah reluctantly agreed. She raised the cup to her lips again with casual ease. “Do you know a woman that goes by the name Faina Baker?”

Vittiore choked on her tea and dropped her cup, which exploded against the plate. Blood-red tea splashed over the collar of her peach dress, the red spreading from fold to fold. Vittiore sputtered. “Oh, I’m so clumsy. I’m sorry. My hands have always had a shake.” She began to wipe up the tea on the table. Dinah added her napkin to the effort. “No, no. I’ve never heard that name. Why do you ask?”

Dinah decided to be bold. “It’s just a name I overheard.”

Vittiore’s already-pale skin had turned a pasty shade of white, but she seemed to have regained her composure. “It is a sadness. I pray for all those imprisoned in the Black Towers, especially women.”

Dinah arched her eyebrow. She had never mentioned the Black Towers, or the fact that Faina was a prisoner there. Vittiore was obviously unhinged. Behind Dinah, a door shut as Nanda left the room. She had obviously been listening.

Dinah stirred some sugar into her tea. “Tell me again where you grew up? I don’t think we’ve ever actually spoken since your—” she paused, “arrival on our doorstep.”

Vittiore took a deep breath. Her eyes looked to the left. “I was born just inside of the Twisted Wood, at the base of the Yurkei Mountains. I was born in the early autumn. Your father had camped at our village during his great battle with the Yurkei, and met my mother. They fell into lust.”

“While he was still married. To my mother, the Queen.”

Vittiore blinked. “Yes. I’m sorry, I forget that sometimes. It was not right of him to be unfaithful to your mother. I believe he was simply seeking emotional comfort in my mother’s arms, nothing more.”

“And your mother?” asked Dinah.

Vittiore’s eyes filled with tears. “She was a wonderful woman. Her body matched her nature—soft and tender. By the time I was brought here when I was thirteen, my mother was long dead.” Her voice caught in her throat. Dinah waited patiently for her to finish. “I am so blessed to have such a loving and gracious father, and so happy to be included in the Royal Line of Hearts. For even though my mother was common born, our father is a great king.”

“Indeed,” echoed Dinah, her mind churning. “Do you miss the Yurkei Mountains?”

“Sometimes. They were so large, a permanent shadow over our village. However, I am glad to be here now, in this lovely palace.” Her hand shook. “Although, to be honest, it can be lonely. I visit your brother often.”

Dinah couldn’t hide her shock. Quintrell and Lucy had never mentioned anything about Vittiore visiting. She brought her cup down with a clink—the saucer underneath it cracked. “I was not aware of that. What reason could you possibly have to visit my brother?”

“There is an innocence about Charles that puts me at ease. He’s mad, but he’s also genuine.” She gazed out the window. “He’s so unlike anyone else in this palace. Charles has no motives or politics. His world is one of wonder, something that being a part of the court doesn’t usually grant.”

You aren’t part of the royal family
, thought Dinah.
Not really.

“Do you miss your mother?” Vittiore inquired.

It seemed to Dinah that all the air was sucked out of the room at once. She was never asked about her mother. After she died, it was as if Davianna had never existed. Only Harris mentioned her from time to time. Dinah found herself unable to produce a hateful reply, not about this. “I think about her smile. I think about the way she would smile to herself as she made her jeweled slippers. I remember how she would read stories to us, with different voices and accents. And how she would hold Charles—so fiercely unlike everyone else—as if he was made of glass.”

Tears gathered at the corner of Vittiore’s eyes. Her unflinching blue gaze unnerved Dinah, who found a fury rising inside. “Why would you ask about my mother? She was nothing to you, and she never even knew you existed. You should be thankful that she is dead, otherwise you would never have been allowed to come here, to be given everything from my father, simply out of pity for his bastard child.”

Vittiore refused to rise to Dinah’s taunt and changed the subject. “I can see how that would be upsetting for you. It’s truly unfair.” She sighed and rose from her seat, her features vacant. Her mind was obviously somewhere else as she stared at the view from her balcony. “Have you ever been outside the palace? There is a beauty you cannot dream of.”

“I have no desire to leave,” replied Dinah. “This is my home, my kingdom, my palace. I need to stay here.”

Vittiore looked around the room anxiously. Dinah turned her head. There was no one here; what was she looking at? Dinah turned her head back and was startled to find Vittiore inches from her face. She pulled Dinah close. Their lips were almost touching, and she could feel Vittiore’s flowery breath against her mouth.

“You should leave. Just go, GO, as soon as you can,” whispered Vittiore with breathless urgency. “There are things you could never understand happening here. I don’t understand them either, but I hear the whispers.”

“I understand you want my crown,” hissed Dinah. “Isn’t that what this is?”

A look of pure confusion crossed Vittiore’s face. “What?”

Both girls jumped back from each other as a loud crack came from outside the doorway. It burst open and the King of Hearts strode in, a furious look upon his flushed face. He was followed by six Heart Cards, Nanda, and Palma.

“Dinah!” he thundered. “What are you doing in Vittiore’s chambers?”

“We were just having tea,” Dinah stammered, suddenly feeling very small.

“Are you not supposed to be at your lessons right now?”

Dinah stood shakily. Her legs gave a tremble, as they always did in the presence of her father.
Be strong
, she told herself,
you will be Queen soon
.

“I finished my lessons early. I visited Charles this morning. Apparently Vittiore has been visiting Charles as well. May I ask the last time you saw your son?”

Her father moved across the room with alarming speed, his huge hand gripping Dinah’s arm. He turned his hand roughly and Dinah’s skin burned beneath it.

“Insolent child! Don’t presume to have the right to lecture me on how to deal with my family. I’ll see your mad brother when Wonderland has a peaceful, perfect day, with no need of a ruler.”

Dinah twisted her arm from his grasp and spun to face him. “Soon you’ll have much more time on your hands, when I take the throne beside you. I’ll see to it that your afternoons are much more leisurely.”

Before the King brought his closed hand across her face, Dinah saw a glimmer of pride in her father’s eyes. She was fiercer than he realized. But it was only for a moment, and then she was sprawled on the ground, the left side of her face throbbing.

“Father, STOP!” cried Vittiore, her blue eyes wide with shock. The King of Hearts gave her a murderous look.

“Darling, please go back to tea. Nanda and Palma will help you. Dinah, get up and go back to your apartments. Do not come here again. You can have no purpose here, besides distracting Vittiore from her studies. It is so like you to serve as a stumbling block for all good things.” The King curled his fingers and two Heart Cards approached. He motioned to Dinah, and they yanked her roughly to her feet. “Take them both away.”

Nanda and Palma escorted the shaking Vittiore into her dressing room, cooing gently in her ear. The King pointed to Dinah, who had pushed off the guards and was standing shakily on her own feet.

“I’m sure the Princess has much to do before her coronation next month. Please see to it that she is placed in Harris’s care, and remind him that he is tasked with keeping her in line.” That was a threat, Dinah noted, not a request. The King bent over so he could peer into Dinah’s black eyes. “I would hate for something to happen to Harris if he wasn’t doing a good job of properly raising the future Queen. Perhaps one of my own men would be better suited for the task.”

Dinah’s mouth gave a quiver. “NO. No, I will stay away from Vittiore, as I always have. I have no desire to be in the presence of a bastard.”

Dinah expected to feel the King’s hand across her face again, but instead he gave a wicked chuckle. “Your fire impresses me, child. Always has. Stay in your part of the castle. Prepare for the coronation. I will see you on Execution Day.”