“You’re shaking your head. And you do have some reason to be displeased with Herald.”
“I guess so, but to be honest, I don’t feel bitter toward him. He did what he thought he had to do to save his neck. I’m used to that kind of thinking.” I gazed out the window. The great room was on the same side of the house as my room and had the same view of the castle. “I thought you handled that perfectly. Like a real leader. Better than I could have done.”
“I don’t believe that,” Henri said.
Silence hung between us, heavy and thick. I was sure that we were both thinking about my bloodline and the responsibility that came with it. Hatter was probably wondering how he could help me grow into leadership, whereas I wanted to ditch that responsibility as soon as possible. Not only did I not want others relying on me, I didn’t understand Faerie. Little felt homey or right here, and I still had no plans to stay.
Aware that Henri was waiting, I cleared my throat. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“What’s up with how March Hare walks? I’ve studied a lot of people, analyzed their gaits for weaknesses or concealed weapons, but I’ve never seen anything like how he moves.”
Henri snorted. “Looks like I owe March five crowns.”
I turned to face him. “What?”
Hatter stood and crossed the room. “March made me bet when you’d ask about that. I said you wouldn’t, but he disagreed. Obviously, I should learn not to question others’ lived experiences.”
I tilted my head. “Now I’m even more intrigued.”
He stopped in front of a covered easel on the far side of the room. “How you see March now isn’t a representation of his true form.” He pulled the covering off the painting.
I walked toward the portrait. The subject was an umber-skinned man wearing a military uniform. He was tall and powerful-looking, with dark, intelligent eyes. I’d never seen him before, but something about him was familiar.
“Who is that?”
“This is March Hare, or as he was known years ago, Lieutenant Augustus March. He served your parents in their army.”
My lips parted in shock. “But . . . why is he a hare now?”
“March was one of the first rebels to speak against the Red Queen, so she had him transformed. Of course, she saw fit to maim him before transforming a once proud soldier into a hare. Weakness of any sort is frowned upon here, and she wanted to ensure that no one would take him seriously again.” Hatter shook his head. “His strange gait is partially a result of the injury, and partially because there’s still an elf inside that hare body, trying to fight its way out.”
If there had been any question that my aunt was a monster, this story erased it. I hated her more than ever, and my resolve to do something about her rule increased tenfold.
“Well then, we’d better keep training so we can help break him free.”
Chapter 10
I pulled on a pair of loose, black trousers with a sigh. Hatter had confiscated my leggings because spandex stood out too much in Faerie. I understood his reasoning, but I missed them. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get used to the easy, breezy feel of linen.
I crinkled the fabric between my fingers wistfully.At least they’re black.
My gaze trailed to my selection of shirts, which succeeded in lifting my spirits. While I hated the new loose pants, the tops here were a different story. I loved that I could wear shirts with holes in the back that allowed my gold-veined wings more freedom to stretch and feel the air flow around them. Hopefully, with practice, my flying would improve while I was here.
Once dressed and ready, I made my way to the kitchen, where I found Dee and Dum arguing at the end of a table big enough for fifteen.
“Morning, girls.” I ignored their bickering and placed the kettle atop a burner before flipping it on.
“Morning, Alice!” they chimed in unison, and extended their fists to me.
“You know that the act of waking up isn’t really grounds for a fist-bump, right?”
I’d taught the girls the gesture yesterday, and they hadn’t stopped wanting to blow it up since.
“Maybe not for you,” Dum said and gave an exaggerated stretch.
I laughed and gave in, fist-bumping both of them, before proceeding to peruse the tea selection.
