Page 19 of Knot My Wonderland: Part Two
"Would she?" I pressed, tasting blood where her nails had broken skin. "Or would she be horrified by the torture, the corruption, the innocent people you've destroyed in her name?"
The Queen's composure shattered completely. She staggered backward, her perfect façade crumbling as centuries of suppressed grief erupted to the surface. The dining hall trembled around us, crystal goblets cracking, the living flames in the chandeliers flickering wildly.
"You don't know," she sobbed, her voice raw with anguish. "You don't know what it's like to watch your child die while magic itself abandons you. To hold her hand as she begged me to make the pain stop, and I—" Her voice broke entirely, theadmission torn from somewhere deep and wounded. "I couldn't save her. The greatest blood mage in Wonderland's history, and I couldn't save my own daughter."
The raw pain in her voice made something twist in my chest despite everything she'd done to me. Through the crimson fog, I saw her not as the terrifying Red Queen, but as a mother destroyed by loss, twisted into something monstrous by grief that had never been allowed to heal.
"She was supposed to rule beside me," the Queen continued, her voice cracking. "We had plans. I was teaching her the old magics, the ones that could heal as well as harm. But the plague... it consumed magic itself. The stronger the wielder, the faster it spreads."
I felt the collar's grip loosen slightly as her control wavered.
"She was perfect," the Queen whispered, her voice breaking. "My beautiful Rose. She would have ruled with wisdom and compassion, everything I failed to be. And the plague took her anyway. Wonderland took her from me."
I felt a flicker of genuine sympathy despite everything she'd done to me, to others. The grief radiating from her was overwhelming—centuries of pain compressed into a single moment, raw and bleeding like a fresh wound.
"I'm sorry for your loss," I said quietly, meaning it despite everything. "But this isn't the way to honor her memory."
The Queen's head snapped up, her ruby eyes blazing with renewed fury. "You think I want your pity?" She straightened, her perfect composure returning like a mask sliding back into place. "I want your submission. Your pattern. Your place in my design."
The dining hall stabilized around us, the trembling walls settling as she regained control. With a gesture, she summoned another goblet, filling it with the same ruby liquid from a decanter that materialized at her command.
"Enough sentiment," she said, her voice cold and controlled once more. "Take her back to her room. Let the tonic work its way and we shall see how things go. I will prepare for my son’s arrival and you can feel him die through your bond. Then we can speak of loss together.”
The words hit me like physical blows. Through the golden thread, I felt Heart's presence burning brighter—not just determination now, but desperate urgency. He was close. Too close to whatever trap she'd prepared.
"No," I whispered, the word barely audible through the collar's constriction. "You won't hurt him."
The Queen's perfect lips curved into a smile that held no warmth. "I won't need to hurt him, dear child. He'll walk willingly into my web, driven by his pathetic need to save you." She gestured, and Captain Aldric appeared from the shadows, his frozen-blood eyes carefully neutral. "Take her back. Ensure she's comfortable for the night."
Aldric moved to my side, his touch surprisingly gentle as he helped me stand. My legs trembled beneath me, the second dose of tonic making coordination nearly impossible as he led me away. My emotions were everywhere as I felt tears in my eyes that I wouldn't let fall. I had to hope that there was a plan when Heart came…and that him coming here didn’t end in his death…because if he died, I would never forgive myself.
Chapter
Eight
CHI
Iphased between shadow and substance, my form flickering as I scouted ahead of Heart's assault team. The crimson-tinted mist that surrounded the Red Queen's gardens made my skin crawl, the silver patterns beneath it recoiling from the corrupted magic that permeated everything here. Through our weakened bond, I could feel Alice's growing disorientation—waves of confusion and fear punctuated by moments of startling clarity.
"The outer perimeter is heavily guarded," I reported, materializing beside Heart in the shelter of twisted trees whose branches wept crimson tears. "Card soldiers at every entrance, and something worse patrolling the rose maze."
"Worse how?" Martha asked, her scarred face grim as she checked her weapons. The veteran fighter had assembled twenty of our most trusted allies—survivors who'd lost everything to the Red Queen's reign and had nothing left to lose.
"Blood golems," I said, my tail lashing with agitation. "Constructs made from the Queen's magic and the remains of those who defied her. They don't think—they just hunt."
Heart's ruby eyes darkened, the golden patterns beneath his skin pulsing with barely contained fury. Despite Seth's healing, I could see he was still in pain, one hand pressed against his chest where the dagger had struck.
"We stick to the plan," he said, voice low and controlled despite the rage I knew was burning inside him. "The frontal assault draws attention while Seth and the Tweedles infiltrate through the western passage."
I nodded, though unease coiled in my stomach like a serpent. The silver bond connecting me to Alice flickered weakly, growing fainter with each passing hour. Whatever the Queen was doing to her was working—the connection felt stretched beyond recognition, threads unraveling one by one as the Queen's ritual progressed.
"She knows we're coming," I said quietly, voicing the fear that had been growing since we'd entered the Queen's territory. "I can feel it through the bond. Alice is trying to warn us."
Heart's jaw tightened, his hand moving unconsciously to his chest where the golden bond pulsed weakly. "Of course she knows. She's been anticipating this since she took Alice." His eyes met mine, centuries of shared history passing between us in a single glance. "But she expects emotion, not strategy. She thinks I'll charge in blindly, driven by nothing but the need to reach Alice."
"And instead?" Martha asked, her fingers checking the silver-tipped arrows in her quiver.
"Instead, we give her exactly what she expects," Heart replied, a dangerous smile curving his lips. "But with a purpose she won't see coming."
