March smiled that little crooked smile as if to say,I see you coming closer,and I didn’t letthatstop me, either. Not until my elbows were firmly planted on the white silk that covered the tabletop, and I heard the Red Queen’s rich voice.
“…and that is how you always know a memory,” she was saying, her thin red lips stretching into a smile at the end before she took a sip of her drink. Red wine that looked all too similar to blood—but the taste must have been good because she seemed to enjoy it.
Then her eyes landed on me. “A Spade—how nice. I’ve always liked Spades. Very straightforward. Very honest people.” She raised her glass just slightly—a queen raising her glass to me,I thought.Curiouser and curiouser.
“I hear they are difficult to work with,” Levana said, analyzing every inch of me with those intense eyes.
“I hear they barely have any emotions,” said Helen.
“That’s a lie, actually,” I said, the words slipping out of my lips as the thought pushed itself out of me.
“It is, indeed,” the Red Queen said before taking another sip of her wine. The middle of her lips was now stained a darker shade of red than that of her lipstick. “Spades feel.Everyonefeels.” Her eyes flickered from us and to the other side of the table, to the White Queen, where she was speaking to Calren and the others.
Then she lowered her head a little and whispered, “It’s why they’re so easy to manipulate.” And she winked.
Impossible not to smile—even more so when I looked at March and sawhowhe looked down at me, the rim of his own glass near his lips.
Like I was something that inspired awe in him. Like I was…adorableor something, which wasn’t at all what I wanted to be. Not to him, not to anyone.
“I can’t wait to get older and learn magic, and be powerful—like you,” said Levana, andshelooked at the Red Queen kind of like the same way—minus theadorablepart.
“But with power comes great responsibility, young one,” the Red Queen said. “That part seems to escape people’s minds all the time. Something like a faded memory.” She sipped her wine.
I looked at March again—how could I not?—and this time he winked at me.
If I didn’t resemble a tomato right now, I would forever be grateful.
That, and if I could just stop smiling so big for a second…
“Oh, and while we’re talking about responsibility—I was indeed asked to extend a courtesy to the lot of you.” The Red Queen threw another look to the side, at the White Queen, and it wasn’t abadlook. It wasn’t a good look, either.
She put her glass down and said, “You are all allowed to makeonemistake.”
We paused. Looked at one another—no winks this time.
Then March said, “Only one?”
The queen’s grin mirrored his. “Yes, indeed, Heartling.”
“Generous,” he muttered.
“Itis,” she said, like she was suddenly excited that he understood. Like she didn’t get his sarcasm at all, which I was sure wasn’t the case.
“One mistake only. And what happens after?” asked Helen.
“After, we stop pretending we didn’t notice.” The queen herself winked, and she was so…open. So authentic, but I don’t know why that surprised me so much.
“And what if wedon’tmake it at all?” I wondered. “What if we save it?” After all, there wasn’t much room for mistakes in the games—they weregames.We would be having fun, figuring out puzzles, possibly sparring or running orwhatever kind of physical tests they were going to put us through.
But the Red Queen’s smile widened. “Nowthatis the most common mistake to make.”
A mistakenotto make a mistake.
“Does that mean we have to make it count then?” asked Levana, and the queen’s eyes lit up.
“Yes, darling—yes,” she said. “And please, by the Everstill—” she leaned in, grinning, and we all automatically did the same to hear her whispering—“make itinteresting.I’m simply too old for bland mistakes. They make my wrinkles deeper.”
A beat of silence.
