Page 7 of Off with Her Head

SCARLETT

Istand outside the grand doors of the meeting hall, listening to the murmur of voices within. Gariel reports that Ravenna sits at the conference table, flanked by two men—her commander and her liaison to Underland, just as expected.

"How does she look?" I ask before I can stop the words from coming out.

Gariel’s feathers tinkle as it cocks its head. "Like the most magnificent night given form, My Queen."

I roll my eyes at the poetic description, though my stomach flutters. "Open the doors," I order as I square my shoulders and straighten my posture. "Let's give our guests a proper welcome."

The doors expand, and I force myself to count to three before stepping into the room. My heels click against the marble floor, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. I've perfected this walk over the years—hips swaying just enough to be noticed, head held high, each step precise and measured.

And then I seeher.

My steps nearly falter.

The rumors, I realize, don’t do her justice. Ravenna rises from her seat with fluid grace, and for a moment I forget how to breathe. She's tall, agile but slim, wrapped in a black gownthat fits like a second skin. Her face is perfectly symmetrical—high cheekbones, full red lips, piercing blue eyes that seem to see right through my carefully constructed facade. Her black hair falls like silk around her shoulders, and her pale skin seems to glow in the candlelight.

Fairest in all the lands,indeed.

I force myself to keep walking, to keep my expression neutral despite the way my pulse is racing. This is absurd.Iam the Queen of Hearts. I do not get flustered by a tempting face, no matter how extraordinary that face might be.

"Queen Ravenna," I purr, letting authority drip from every syllable as I take my seat at the head of the table. "Welcome to Underland."

Those arctic eyes study me with unsettling intensity. "Queen Scarlett." Her voice is deeper than I expected, rich and smooth like honey. "Your castle is... fascinating."

Through the windows behind her, I can see several of my card-soldiers still painting the roses. One of them has started to shake, his brush trembling as he works. I'll have to deal with that later.

"How gracious of you to notice," I reply as disinterested as I can manage. My skin is too hot, too tight. I'm acutely aware of every breath she takes, every slight movement of her body. It's infuriating. "Though I hear your own castle is quite...distinctive."

"You mean dark and forbidding?" Her lips curve into something that's not quite a smile as her eyes rise to meet mine. "We can't all rule through theatrical displays of power."

The two men beside her tense, but I find myself fighting back a genuine smile. Someone who isn't afraid to challenge me.

"No," I agree, letting my gaze drag obviously down her body before meeting her eyes again. "Some of us prefer to isolate our power in the shadows."

A flicker of something crosses her face—surprise?Interest? It's gone too quickly for me to be sure. But I don't miss the way her eyes linger on my neckline before rising to meet my gaze again.

We spend the next hour discussing border security and trade agreements, but it feels more like an elaborate dance. Every word is carefully chosen, every gesture deliberately calculated. Her commander occasionally interjects with military concerns while her liaison takes detailed notes, but I barely notice them. I'm too captivated by the way Ravenna's hands move as she speaks, the subtle shifts in her expression, the quiet confidence she exudes with very little effort.

It's during a discussion of border security that the Cheshire Cat appears, materializing directly behind Ravenna's chair with his massive, unsettling grin. To her credit, she doesn't flinch when he speaks.

"My queens," he purrs, his striped tail swishing lazily. "I hate to interrupt such afascinatingmeeting. But I bring warnings of serpents in your gardens."

I straighten in my chair, pulling my attention away from the elegant line of Ravenna's throat. "Speak plainly, Cat."

"Queen Mara's marriage to King Edmund is not as it appears." His grin somehow widens between words. "The new queen plays a deeper game, and her new king is not the power he appears to be."

Ravenna goes very still, and I watch as magic ripples beneath her skin like lightning. The temperature in the room drops, sending a chill up my spine.

"Leave us," she commands her men, her voice like ice. They hesitate only a moment before retreating.

I wave my hand, dismissing my own attendants, leaving just the two of us and the Cat, who continues to float behind Ravenna's chair with that knowing smile.

"Tell us everything," I demand, but the Cat only chuckles.

"Where would be the fun in that?" He begins to fade into mist. "Watch the shadows, my queens. Not all of them belong to you." His grin is the last thing to disappear.

I study Ravenna's face, noting the tight set of her jaw and the barely contained power in her eyes. "Your sister," I say softly. "The one who tried to overthrow you."

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