Page 68 of Trapped By Clocks and Hearts

Taking a deep steadying breath, I took a long moment to compose myself. Dropping my gaze for a moment, I shook my head. Sensing a fresh wave of sympathy and care from Allie, the tension in my body was finally easing, the darkness being displaced by light. I cleared my throat. “There’s no need to be. I am fine.”

When I met her gaze again, the pure concern and worry in those honey-brown eyes sent a fresh jolt of feelings to my chest, but this time they didn’t hurt.

Even as Allie was standing two whole feet away, I felt a tug toward her, the warmth in the space between us undeniably inviting as I held her gaze in the tenuous silence.

The murmured words slipped out of me, “Thank you.”

Unbidden, Allie’s gaze dropped to my mouth. The heart in my chest started drumming away once again, and for some reason, her forehead creased in curiosity.

I narrowed my eyes, watching the expression in hers change.

It was as if she was…straining to hear something. The gears in her mind were working once again. But after a split second, she blinked in surprise and whirled to leave.

I swallowed hard as she exited my chambers.

For the first time ever, I was curious.

Chapter 20 - Eligible

It was almost too bright.

The large ballroom at the Queen’s castle was haphazardly but lavishly decorated. Floor-to-ceiling windows decked with curtains, red painted over white, so fresh the colors still dripped on the checkered marble floor. Oversized playing cards hanging from the ceiling and ornate chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow on the festivities. The Queen’s soldiers, dressed in their vivid tartan uniforms, lined the perimeter of the dance floor like a frame. Diagonal tables were set out on the fringes, along with awkward, slanted chairs that nobody could sit on. Nobody was allowed to sit. Everyone was required to dance.

Musicians dressed in elaborate glittering masks and fascinators played whimsical, offbeat music. The dance floor was alive with a peculiar mix of Wünder citizens and royals twirling and dancing in their eccentric costumes of silk, feathers, sequins, and glitter.

Notably, most of the merry courtiers and nobles were congregated at the front end of the room.

Away from me.

I was nursing my whiskey at a tall table I had conjured up by the sidelines near the grand staircase.

Everyone knew well enough to avoid me. Everyone knew who I was, what I did.

Princes and escorts twirled their lovely dancing partners in the farthest area of the dance floor, wary not to stray too close to my natural charms, or happen to find themselves on the wrong end of my heart-carving skills.

The Queen of Hearts was a vision herself, dressed in her resplendent regalia, sitting on a less elaborate but just as giant throne at the head of the room.

The heart in my chest squeezed. I willed my hands not to shake as I struggled to block the fresh, horrific images of my family’s slaughter from my mind.

I knew it was pointless to be enraged all over again. My knowing this changed nothing.

I didn’t remember much else about what had happened. I was certain the Queen wouldn’t tell me even if I dared ask.

The reason behind the massacre wasn’t clear to me yet, but it wasn’t unusual to suppose that the Queen’s actions were motivated by one single thing. As they almost always were.

Her pointed nose turned up, the Queen watched the extravagance before her with a pleased smile. The sole purpose of everything here was to amuse her, and like the puppets they were, the citizens of Wünder danced and whirled to the lively music, amidst the twinkling glow of fairy sparkles flitting about.

Chez appeared out of thin air and hopped up onto my table.

“Chez.” I acknowledged him with a flat tone as I downed my drink.

I checked my pocket watch, trying to ascertain how much time might be seen as appropriate for me to waste here. This ball was the last place I would have ever wanted to be. In the back of my mind, I was already forming an escape plan. I was certain the Queen was planning some sort of trap for Allie once all this ludicrous dancing was over and I needed to be ready for it.

“The Duchess wishes to see all the frivolity,” Chez relayed.

Fetching the looking glass from my pocket, I propped it onto the table. I waved my hand and the mirror glimmered into a vanity mirror with a gilded frame. The Duchess’s round face peering around it filled the small reflective surface.

“Last year’s ball looked better.” She sniffed, almost in a disdain that was obviously masking jealousy.