Page 2 of Off with Her Head
Good. Let them be uncertain.
"In Underland, the roses are red," I said, descending the steps toward him. "Not white, not pink, not any other color. Red. The exact shade of blood. Do you know why?"
He shook his head, confusion replacing his pleading expression.
"Because precision maintains control. Order maintains power." I circled him slowly, feeling something new and cold unfurling within me. "My parents believed in kindness. I believe in fear."
I returned to my throne, sitting tall despite the crown's weight. I needed to make an impression, needed every person in this room to understand exactly who I had become.
The words came naturally, as if they had been waiting inside me all along:
"Off with his head."
The gasps, the horror on their faces—it fed something in me that had been starved. As the card-soldiers dragged the struggling duke away, I felt the first true sense of security since that terrible night.
Fear, I realized, was the only reliable protection. And I would ensure that every creature in Underland feared their new Queen of Hearts.
No one would ever mistake me for weak again.
Chapter
One
SCARLETT
My crown sits heavy on my head as I survey my morning court from my gilded throne. Its weight is a reminder of thepowerI wield, thefearI command, and theorderI must maintain. Below me, the marble floors of the Castle of Cards shimmer with an iridescent glow—black and red,alwaysblack and red—while my subjects await my judgment.
The light streaming through the stained-glass windows casts kaleidoscopic patterns across their upturned faces. I observe them from my elevated position, noting the subtle signs of anxiety rippling through the crowd. A duchess fidgets with her delicate lace collar. A knight's armored fingers tap against his thigh. Even the magical creatures, who should be accustomed to the wilds of Underland, hold themselves unnaturally still in my presence. Only the red roses adorning my throne room remain vibrant and unbothered—as they should, after my soldiers spent the better part of the morning painting each petal to perfection.
I shift slightly, feeling the corset beneath my gown dig into my ribs. Each breath I take sets the ruby gemstones aflame in the morning light—a reminder to all who gaze upon me that I am both beautiful and dangerous. A queen to be admired yet feared.
The accused nobleman kneels before me, his fine silk jacket now wrinkled from the rough handling of my card-soldiers.Lord Preston. Once a trusted advisor, now a fucking traitor who thought he could slip away in the night with my kingdom's secrets. He was caught at the southern border with documents detailing Underland's magical defenses.
The evidence against him is damning, really, and the punishment has been predetermined, yet still we play this game of supplication and judgment. It's a necessary theater—one that reinforces the natural order of my kingdom.
"My Queen," he pleads, his voice trembling. "I meant no harm. The documents were merely—"
"Silence." The word cracks through the air. I lean forward, letting him see the cruel curl of my painted red lips. "You dare to steal from your queen and thenlieto her face? Do you think me a fool, Lord Preston?"
My voice carries the perfect blend of disdain and controlled rage, a tone I've spent years perfecting. It's the same voice that has ordered countless executions, made hardened warriors tremble, and has ensured that even the most magical of creatures in my realm remember their place.
The entire court holds its breath. Even the Mock Turtle has ceased his eternal weeping, and the March Hare's perpetual trembling has momentarily stilled.
I rise from my throne, my ruby-encrusted gown catching the light and throwing crimson shadows across the walls. The dress is a masterpiece, layers of blood-red silk that cinch at my waist before flowing out like the petals of a deadly flower.
My movements are deliberate as I descend the steps to stand before him. My heels click against the marble, each step fracturing the silence until I tower over his kneeling form.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" I circle him slowly, enjoying the way he holds his breath when I pass behind him."Did you think the Queen of Hearts wouldn'tfeelthe betrayal of one of her own?"
I pause directly behind him, close enough that I know he can feel my breath against his neck. I lower my voice to a whisper meant only for him. "Did you forget that I have eyes everywhere? That the very roses you passed in the garden would whisper your treachery to me?"
He shivers, understanding too late that in Underland, even the flowers serve the queen.
"Please, Your Majesty—" His frightened pleas are pathetic, and a waste of this court's time. A waste ofmyprecious time.
"Off with his head!" I bellow for the entire room to hear. I've had enough of him, and quite frankly, he's had this coming.
The words ring out, sending a delightful tingle of familiarity down my spine. My card-soldiers move immediately, their paper-sharp edges gleaming as they drag the struggling nobleman away. His protests echo through the hall until the heavy doors slam shut behind them. The sound reverberates through my throne room, a satisfying punctuation to my judgment.
