Cruel as a Queen

by Kendra Moreno

  “If you didn’t care about him so much, I would have murdered him years ago. Damn the consequences.” His tail twitches behind him. “But I realize there might not be only one broken heart when he’s crowned King, and for that reason alone, I’ll step back and keep your secret, even if I think he’s being a self-centered asshole. Just, be careful, Dani. And when you need me, I’ll be here.”

  I smile, my eyes wet with unshed emotion. We don’t hug, though I have the urge to, but I reach forward and touch my hand to his, glad to have such a brother. I expect his hand to be warm, like the furnace he usually is, but it’s ice-cold to the touch. I jerk my fingers away.

  “Why are you so cold?”

  “I don’t know. My skin has been icy all day.”

  I touch my fingers to his skin again, the back of his hand so cold, it almost feels like it freezes my fingers. When we touch this time, tingles shoot up my arm, and I gasp.

  “Do you feel that?” I’ve never felt this before, this overwhelming buzzing. Even as I say it, the buzzing gets more insistent, spreading across my entire body until I feel alive with it.

  “What’s happening?” Cheshire stares at his hand in confusion, the same buzzing obviously climbing up his arm. “What is this?”

  Above us, a bright light flashes, nearly blinding in its intensity. Both of us shield our eyes to ease the pain it causes in the darkness, and when we lower our arms, there’s a shape in the light, that of a woman. We can’t see her features–they’re too obscured by the light–but she’s clearly powerful to harness the light around her.

  “Cheshire and Danica. Brother and sister. Hard and gentle.” Her voice sounds like hundreds speaking all at once, an echo that’s not an echo. It’s terrifying, and yet, I find myself leaning towards the voice, as if I know it deep in my soul. “Two sides of a coin in birth. Two sides of a coin in life.”

  “Who are you?” Cheshire asks, his claws sliding free in case she’s a threat. “And what do you want with us?”

  I can feel the woman smile even though I can’t see her.

  “Three Sons are chosen for Wonderland, but they are not alone. Death, Time, and Justice are the Sons, but with them, come Memories and Hope.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  Mentally, I echo Cheshire’s question. Why is this woman telling us about the Sons? Who is she?

  In the distance, a howl rends the air, so full of sorrow, it makes my heart hurt.

  “Justice and Hope are two sides of the same coin, my children. You both have been chosen.”

  “Chosen for what?” Cheshire asks, but I already know the answer. I can feel the power that begins to flow through me at her statement, gravity slipping away as I’m lifted into the air, her bright light licking at my skin. “Dani!” I gasp, my back bowing under the new power surging through me. “What the fuck are you doing with my sister?”

  “Hope Bringer, you know your role,” she continues as if Cheshire hadn’t spoken. “Hands of Justice, you will know yours.”

  I hear Cheshire growl and fight as he’s lifted into the air beside me. I can feel his horror from here, but I can’t reach out to him, my own body still locked under the pouring of power. I want to tell him it’s okay, that I’m here, but I can’t. Oh, Wonder, I can’t. His horror slams into me so hard, I whimper. I hear his groan of pain as power rushes into him, far more powerful than what’s going into mine. I may be the Hope Bringer, but Cheshire will be a Son. Any choice he might have had before, it’s gone. Wonderland will never let him leave now. Tears pour down my cheeks, sorrow for my brother taking precedence over any excitement I have.

  Finally, after what feels like hours, she sets us back on the branch, both of us unsteady on our feet. I’m panting hard, my hand clenched against my chest where I feel like I’m going to explode with power, as if my body is bigger than the shell I have. Cheshire morphs in front of my eyes, fur sprouting along his skin, his anger palpable as his face twists into a savage scowl.

  “Take. It. Back,” he growls, enunciating each word.

  “It is done.” The light begins to fade before our eyes. Cheshire’s answering roar of rage pierces my ears, and I wince.

  “Take it the fuck back! I refuse! I refuse! I deny your power!”

  Tinkling laughter reaches our ears, and I know, she’s enjoying this far too much. Just like a game of chess, we’re nothing more than pieces on a board. “Child,” she speaks, those thousand voices rising, “there is no choice.”

  And then she’s gone, and when I reach for Cheshire, he’s gone, too.

  Chapter 3

  When the Sons are chosen, the festival begins, and everyone celebrates those that are picked to become so much more. The Sons and those chosen for other roles are forced to stand in front of the entire kingdom and announce their new positions. We should be honored. We should feel happy.

  As I stand in front of the crowds, I feel far from happy, but there is a hope there. Hope Bringer is a far more distinguished title than Lieutenant. The Queen, however, hardly gives me a look as she addresses the crowd, even though she’s watched me grow up within her walls.

  “Wonderland has spoken. She has chosen those that she believes are necessary for our survival, and she has chosen well.” Words. They’re nothing more than flowery words. She doesn’t believe a word of it. She’s kind, and cares about her family and her people, but she doesn’t believe we’re necessary for Wonderland. This is a pageantry to her. Alex has mentioned her feelings before. She turns her eyes to us, seeing but not. I’ve been running through her castle since I could stand on my legs, and still, she hardly spares me a glance. She starts on the end, in front of The Hatter. We’ve known each other for years, but he keeps to himself in his house. Cheshire is friends with him, but I’ve never had the pleasure of a true conversation with the man. He comes from a long line of Sons. It’s no wonder he was chosen as the next Protector.

  “Hatter, you have been chosen as a Son, the Protector of the Here After. May Wonderland have mercy on your soul.” He nods in answer, his face solemn. He, too, understands this is not the honor we’ve been led to believe. This is not a choice.

  She moves to the March Hare, his ears twitching far faster than normal. His jaw keeps clenching and unclenching, as if he’s not sure what exactly is going on. I find myself pitying him.

  “March, you have been chosen as the Keeper of Memories. May Wonderland have mercy on your soul.”

  White is another friend of Cheshire’s, one he speaks of often. White works on strategy with Cheshire for the guard, his job to find the fastest way to win a war with the lowest amount of casualties. They were fast friends from the beginning, but the White Rabbit has stayed far away from me for whatever reason. “White, you have been chosen as a Son, the Time Keeper. May Wonderland have mercy on your soul.”

  Only Cheshire and I remain, and I know Cheshire wants to be anywhere but here, but both of us had felt the call. We have no choice, no freedom. Wonderland wants us to be here, and what she wants, must be done.

  “Cheshire, you have been chosen as a Son, the Hands of Justice. May Wonderland have mercy on your soul.”

  Alex stands to the side of us, wearing his fancy clothing, the thread spun through with more gold than I can ever hope to own. His blue eyes crash into mine as the Queen steps in front of me, and I know I’m showing everything in my eyes. Hope and Fear swirl within me, and I want to smack myself for it. The Hope Bringer is not destined for the King. I’m one side of the coin, and Alex is not the other. Still, there’s a small amount of Hope that the new title elevates me enough to be deemed worthy, as stupid as that sounds.

  The Queen clears her throat, and I look into her eyes. It’s frowned upon, but as a chosen one, she can no longer say anything. My rank is blessed by Wonderland. I no longer must bow, but that doesn’t mean I can claim her son. There are rules, so many rules, always rules. I’m starting to understand my brother’s aversion to them.

  “Danica,” she begins, staring deeply into my
eyes, her disapproval so thick, I can taste it. Why? Why does she feel that way? “You have been chosen as the Hope Bringer. May Wonderland have mercy on your soul.”

  The crowd erupts in cheers, the festival officially beginning, a whole celebration for our loss of freedom. It might as well have been the same as a public hanging. Execution would be far easier.

  As soon as Wonderland allows us, I move from my spot. I need to get away from this; I need to escape. Cheshire Fades away immediately, but my emotions are too extreme to focus. I can’t Fade, so I settle for running, and running, and running.

  Before I know it, I’m deep in the trees, the hissing flowers avoiding me now that I’ve been chosen. Tears start to flow down my cheeks without me realizing it, the proper dress I was put in for the ceremony ripping on the branches that don’t move fast enough out of my way.

  I finally reach a clearing and collapse, deep sobs wracking my body. I weep for Cheshire, for his loss of freedom, his dreams. I weep for the cruelty of Wonderland, for her games. I once told Cheshire that there’s freedom in going with fate. I regret every word. There’s no freedom in this. Perhaps, I should accept my role with humility, and thank the stars that I’ve been chosen, but all I see is endless loneliness, a brother who will never be happy, and the man I love marrying another.

  All I see is the end, and still, I hope. That’s the curse of the Hope Bringer, isn’t it? To feel things so deeply, to be the only one who still hopes even in the face of such disaster.

  Someone kneels in front of me, and I look up, surprised that I hadn’t heard them approach. Alex watches me, concern in his eyes at the state I’m in. My dress is in shreds, dirty, my face blotchy and tear-streaked. I’m a mess, but he reaches forward to wipe my cheeks.

  “You’ll ruin your pants,” I croak. His fancy outfit is white and gold, his knees already soaking in the dirt on the forest floor. He’ll stain the material permanently, and it’s something I can never afford to replace.

  “Everything is going to be okay, Dani,” he whispers.

  “How can you say that?” I shove my hair back from my face, fighting the tears that still roll down my face. “Everything is far from okay.”

  “Being chosen as Hope Bringer is an honor.”

  I shake my head. “There is no honor in this role. And there was no choice. Wonderland made that clear. When she calls, I must go, no matter what. I’m nothing but a slave to the hope that flows through my body. I’m nothing but a vessel with a title that still means nothing when it comes to King.”

  “I don’t want to become King,” he sighs. “I understand having no choice far too well.”

  I clench my jaw, contrite. He’s right. I’ve known for years that he doesn’t want to become King, but there is no other heir.

  “I’m sorry,” I sniff.

  “Don’t be.” He leans forward and pulls me into his arm. “I’m not looking forward to being told what to wear, who to speak to, who to love. I understand why you don’t want the role, just as I understand why Cheshire is so angry. Neither of you want this life.”

  “But,” I interject, “we’ve been called for greater purposes. I understand that.” I try to gather my emotions. Pity parties aren’t necessary here. What’s done is done. There’s no use crying about it.

  “And that’s why you’re the perfect Hope Bringer,” Alex says, his fingers tipping my chin up. “So perfect in every way.”

  My heart skips a beat in my chest as he looks deeply into my eyes, so much emotion shining there I can hardly stand it. I should pull away. I should end this. Our relationship has just been doomed completely, and still I clench my hands in the fancy jacket at his waist.

  “I will never be considered eligible to be Queen,” I remind him. “It’s against the rules.” That’s the reason we should stop. It’s the reason we should go our separate ways and be happy with the memories of stolen kisses and gentle touches.

  “To hell with the rules.” Alex’s lips crash down on mine with a ferocity he’s never shown, and I find myself responding to him even though I just told myself not to, even though I’m covered in dirt and my face is swollen with grief. I run my hands over his coat and around his neck. One of his hands threads through my wild hair, the other at my hip pulling me as close as possible. We don’t break the kiss until neither of us can breathe. Both of us pant hard, as if we can’t get enough air into our lungs, and the sound of the rapid rise and falls of our chests is the only thing we can hear.

  “We should stop,” I whisper even as my hand flicks the button free at the top of his elegant coat. Alex begins to slide the zipper down at my back, releasing the dress slowly from my chest.

  “Do you love me?” he asks when the dress pools around my waist. I fumble with his buttons, but they don’t come loose. Instead, I end up ripping the jacket open with my newly gifted strength, the shirt underneath going with it, revealing golden skin.

  “Yes.” There’s no hesitation in my answer. I’ve loved Alex for years.

  “I love you, too,” he groans, his lips leaning down to capture the skin at the juncture of my neck and shoulder. “I love you so damn much. Nothing else matters. To hell with everyone. As long as I have you, I’m okay.”

  I don’t tell him he’s wrong, that we have no choice in the matter. If Wonderland doesn’t deem us a match, then we will never be a match. We will never win this battle with her, but I don’t speak. I shove his jacket frantically from his shoulders before he leans forward and lays us down on the dried leaves. My dress gets slipped off reverently, as if he’s studying every detail. His fancy clothing is tossed to the side into the dirt, ruined beyond repair.

  When he enters me, it feels different than any other time we’ve met. This time feels like a declaration of war, but I have a feeling Wonderland won’t allow us to win. The Hope Bringer and the Red King are not destined for each other, and they’re not a traditional match. But perhaps, there’s no harm in fighting.

  I moan when Alex slides inside of me, moving achingly slow, absorbing every detail. His weight comes down over me, covering me as we join together deep in the forest.

  “I love you,” he whispers, hooking my legs over his hips. He kisses my lips, my chest, my neck, anything he can reach, all while pumping inside me. “I love you.”

  I can’t speak, can’t tell him I love him, too. There’s too much emotion, too much happening. I feel both suffocated and free, full of sorrow and happiness. My climax slowly begins to build, my emotions spilling over my eyelashes to run down the face. Alex only kisses the tears away, holding me gently as we make love, as we declare war on destiny.

  When our climaxes crash into us, and the forest grows quiet with our declaration, our love hanging heavy in the air, I realize exactly what we’ve just done. There are rules for a reason. We will never be allowed to be together, not truly, but as if Wonderland knew exactly what she was doing when she chose me, the feeling fills my body.

  Hope. There is always hope.

  Chapter 4

  I don’t focus any more on the consequences. What’s the point, really? It’s already inevitable something bad could happen, that the Queen will never approve our match, that Wonderland herself will deny us the love. But I keep my hope close to my heart, and in between my Hope Bringer duties, I spend my time in Alex’s arms.

  Cheshire reluctantly fulfills his duties as the Hands of Justice. I know he’s not happy, and we grow more distant the longer we’re in our roles. Sadness unlike anything I’ve ever known fills me at the realization. My brother and I, we’ve had only each other for so long, have been best friends since we were children. To think I might lose him to Wonderland, to his fury at his fate, makes me wish I can reach out and bring him out of it.

  But rage so deep isn’t easily dismissed.

  As Alex’s coronation draws near, the impending heartbreak drawing closer and closer, our duties seem to come more frequently. Cheshire and I realized quickly that powers came with our duties. Strength was immediate. The first time I
lifted five times the amount I normally could, I panicked so bad, I dropped the large tree on my foot. Cheshire’s strength far outweighs mine, even though we should be perfectly balanced according to the laws of Wonderland. Our senses have grown drastically, Cheshire’s hearing is insane. He heard me coming through the forest on silent feet long before I could even attempt to sneak up on him. It’s a little unfair, that even after being chosen by Wonderland, Cheshire is still better than me at everything.

  Being the Hope Bringer comes with more powers than just the strength and hearing, however. The night after we rose to our powers, I realized I gained a new ability. Dream Walkers are far and few in Wonderland, and those that contain the power are usually too weak to do more than peek in on dreams. I’ve been able to interact, to influence, while we’re in a dream state, and recently, I’ve been able to manifest that power outside of my body in a protective bubble. The dome that spreads around me when I’m able to focus is golden in color, and impenetrable by outside forces. Alex has tried to get through, and he only succeeded when I grew too tired to maintain the bubble. It’s a remarkable skill to have, and one I haven’t told Cheshire about yet. I’m not sure I want to bring it up, to seal our fate even more. I’m scared of the powers, and I’m scared I’ll walk inside Cheshire’s dreams and see things that I never wanted to.

  Along with the powers, we’re expected to fulfill duties. Cheshire, as the Hands of Justice, punishes those beyond rehabilitation or reasoning. My job as the Hope Bringer, is the rehabilitation. When a creature of Wonderland commits a crime against her, we are called to their location. Being called is sort of like a tingling up and down our arms, so insistent that the longer we let it go, the less choice we have. If we try to ignore it, we’re racked with intense pain. We’d tried at the beginning. I have no desire to repeat that torture. Cheshire still tries.

  I sigh when the familiar tingling travels up my arm. It starts in my fingertips before spreading up my arm and into my chest. I leave the tree I’d been sitting in, contemplating everything that I have to worry about and follow the tugging until I arrive at the Royal Castle. It’s full of bustling activity, preparations for the coronation no doubt. Alex is supposed to be somewhere listening to hours of lectures about his role as a King. I don’t envy him.