Read Online Queen of Hearts (The Crown) by Colleen Oakes - Free Book Online
Authors: Colleen Oakes
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games. This tradition goes back hundreds and hundreds of years. . . .”
Dinah gave a groan and interrupted Harris’s rambling. “Starting with the Seventh King of Hearts, Doylan the Great, the Royal Croquet Game has established the game’s rules and etiquette. It has made the Royal Family of Hearts synonymous with croquet, forever entwined in its grand traditions and all it stands for,” Dinah said and smiled coyly. “You give me the same speech every year. I remember. Contrary to what you believe, I listen to you. Now, may I please read in peace?”
One of her largest history texts, The Great Crane , sat open in front of her, a large silver book with worn pages. It was a rare book, and a fascinating fictional history of the Yurkei religion. Harris flung wide the doors to the courtyard, letting a swirl of pink snow into the room.
“Please close that, I’m freezing,” mumbled Dinah.
The old man ignored her. “Croquet!” he boomed. “The very name conjures a vision of Wonderland excellence, aristocracy, and grace.”
Dinah let out a sigh and gently shut her book, balancing her face on the palms of her hands.
“The Royal Croquet Game sets the tone of the next year’s fashion, manners, teas, and style. It is an opportunity for the Royal Family of Hearts to show their unity, their athletic prowess. . . .”
Dinah’s head jerked up with her laugh, a smudge of plum pudding across her upper lip. “Athletic prowess? Harris, we are hitting balls with sticks. Unity? My father HATES me, and Vittiore—”
“Is a lovely, innocent girl,” finished Harris.
Dinah shot him a nasty look, “—is a venomous wench snake,” she replied. “The very sight of her makes me ill. She may be my sister by my father’s unfaithful blood, but she is NOT my sibling. Only Charles is my true sibling. Who, may I remind you, is never invited to the Royal Croquet Game!”
Harris adjusted his spectacles. “Dinah, you know very well why Charles is never invited.”
“Because he’s an embarrassment to my father?”
“Because he cannot be controlled, and the Line of Hearts must appear strong and unbroken. The history of the Royal Croquet Game is filled with political pandering and glorious grandeur, and it’s no place for someone who is mad.”
Dinah brought her knife down through the biscuits onto the table.
“He may be mad, but he is my BROTHER. And he’s the son of the King. If he wasn’t mad, he would be the rightful heir of Wonderland and every Card would bow before him.”
Harris reached down and wiped Dinah’s lip with his white handkerchief, a tiny heart embroidered on the corner. “That is certainly true, Princess. No one grieves the loss of the prince’s mind more than I. I was there when he was born, as I was with you. I held his red squirming body in my hands, wrapped him up in fur and blessed him in the name of the Wonderland gods. I love Charles, but even I know that he cannot be included in royal events. He makes the crown look weak, and it draws attention to the fractures in your family.”
Dinah stabbed her plate angrily. “When I am Queen, Charles will not be hidden away in some grand atrium, throwing hats out of windows. He will join me where I go, mad or not.”
Harris pulled the chair out from under her and Dinah jumped to her feet. “That is my greatest wish, Princess. Now, it is time to get dressed! We are late, late, late! Emily, bring her croquet gowns!”
There were few things as awful, Dinah mused, as being strapped into a corset as if she were being bound to her own torso. She stood, arms outstretched, as Emily dressed her. Emily was grunting as Dinah’s strong ribs and square hips shrunk gradually into a curvy, maidenly form, made perfect by thick ribbons.
As the pressure slowly increased, Dinah studied herself in a long, heart-shaped mirror. Shiny black hair fell straight from her temple to shoulders. The hair was incredibly thick and heavy, a burden that Dinah some days could barely
Dinah gave a groan and interrupted Harris’s rambling. “Starting with the Seventh King of Hearts, Doylan the Great, the Royal Croquet Game has established the game’s rules and etiquette. It has made the Royal Family of Hearts synonymous with croquet, forever entwined in its grand traditions and all it stands for,” Dinah said and smiled coyly. “You give me the same speech every year. I remember. Contrary to what you believe, I listen to you. Now, may I please read in peace?”
One of her largest history texts, The Great Crane , sat open in front of her, a large silver book with worn pages. It was a rare book, and a fascinating fictional history of the Yurkei religion. Harris flung wide the doors to the courtyard, letting a swirl of pink snow into the room.
“Please close that, I’m freezing,” mumbled Dinah.
The old man ignored her. “Croquet!” he boomed. “The very name conjures a vision of Wonderland excellence, aristocracy, and grace.”
Dinah let out a sigh and gently shut her book, balancing her face on the palms of her hands.
“The Royal Croquet Game sets the tone of the next year’s fashion, manners, teas, and style. It is an opportunity for the Royal Family of Hearts to show their unity, their athletic prowess. . . .”
Dinah’s head jerked up with her laugh, a smudge of plum pudding across her upper lip. “Athletic prowess? Harris, we are hitting balls with sticks. Unity? My father HATES me, and Vittiore—”
“Is a lovely, innocent girl,” finished Harris.
Dinah shot him a nasty look, “—is a venomous wench snake,” she replied. “The very sight of her makes me ill. She may be my sister by my father’s unfaithful blood, but she is NOT my sibling. Only Charles is my true sibling. Who, may I remind you, is never invited to the Royal Croquet Game!”
Harris adjusted his spectacles. “Dinah, you know very well why Charles is never invited.”
“Because he’s an embarrassment to my father?”
“Because he cannot be controlled, and the Line of Hearts must appear strong and unbroken. The history of the Royal Croquet Game is filled with political pandering and glorious grandeur, and it’s no place for someone who is mad.”
Dinah brought her knife down through the biscuits onto the table.
“He may be mad, but he is my BROTHER. And he’s the son of the King. If he wasn’t mad, he would be the rightful heir of Wonderland and every Card would bow before him.”
Harris reached down and wiped Dinah’s lip with his white handkerchief, a tiny heart embroidered on the corner. “That is certainly true, Princess. No one grieves the loss of the prince’s mind more than I. I was there when he was born, as I was with you. I held his red squirming body in my hands, wrapped him up in fur and blessed him in the name of the Wonderland gods. I love Charles, but even I know that he cannot be included in royal events. He makes the crown look weak, and it draws attention to the fractures in your family.”
Dinah stabbed her plate angrily. “When I am Queen, Charles will not be hidden away in some grand atrium, throwing hats out of windows. He will join me where I go, mad or not.”
Harris pulled the chair out from under her and Dinah jumped to her feet. “That is my greatest wish, Princess. Now, it is time to get dressed! We are late, late, late! Emily, bring her croquet gowns!”
There were few things as awful, Dinah mused, as being strapped into a corset as if she were being bound to her own torso. She stood, arms outstretched, as Emily dressed her. Emily was grunting as Dinah’s strong ribs and square hips shrunk gradually into a curvy, maidenly form, made perfect by thick ribbons.
As the pressure slowly increased, Dinah studied herself in a long, heart-shaped mirror. Shiny black hair fell straight from her temple to shoulders. The hair was incredibly thick and heavy, a burden that Dinah some days could barely
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