Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Alice
I glanced over at Flint and Steel. Neither would look at me. They turned their backs, gripping the bars, shoulders rigid with disgust.
It was as if I had become a traitor. Just like Rabbit.
Bunny stared at me with wide, pitying eyes. She slowly shook her head, clutching her children tighter.
"Now that we're bound..." Ari reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He unlocked my manacles and my arms dropped. Relief flooded through me—my shoulders screaming from being stretched for so long. I rolled them gingerly, wincing at the ache.
But the binding bracelets were still clamped around my wrists. I still couldn’t use my power.
And Ari still hadn’t told me how he planned to help us escape.
A slow, cruel smile spread across his face. "The queen sent me to retrieve you."
My blood turned cold.
No. No, no, no.
I narrowed my eyes, rage and horror warring in my chest. The bastard. He'd dangled escape in front of me like bait—and I'd swallowed it whole.
I'd walked right into his trap. I'd thought—stupidly—that Ari would free me and I'd find a way to double-cross him before he could betray us. Get the others out. Find Darius. Escape this hellhole together.
Instead, I'd handed him exactly what he wanted.
And now I was bound to him by dark magic, with no way out.
He gripped my arm. His fingers dug in hard enough to bruise. I didn't fight. What was the point?
Guards waited at the top, their faces blank and cold. No help there. No sympathy. Just more of Alanna's puppets.
Where was he taking me? Back to Alanna? To some new torture I couldn't even imagine?
One of them stepped forward. “We will escort her to the changing room.”
I glanced at Ari. He shrugged, offering nothing.
"The queen doesn't allow anyone in court who's... unpresentable," the guard said, eyeing my filthy, bloodstained clothes with obvious distaste.
It took everything I had not to slap the guard across his smug face. His queen tortured me. And now she turned her nose up at me? Didn’t want to see the evidence of what she’d done?
Coward. Hypocrite. Bitch.
The guard smirked at Ari. “You’re requested to be in court now—pet.”
Ari glared, his red eyes flashing with barely contained fury. But he bowed stiffly and left me with the guards. I could feel the rage radiating off him as he walked away.
Good. Let him suffer too.
The guards escorted me down the hallway.
Men and women dressed in silks and velvets lined the corridor, their jewels glittering in the torchlight.
I felt their stares like blades. Filthy.
Bloodstained. A prisoner being dragged through their pristine halls.
I might as well have been a rat pulled from the gutter.
I was a freak on display.
But I refused to hang my head. Let them stare. Let them see the dried blood, the torn clothes. Let them see exactly what their precious queen had done.
Didn't they realize the truth? If she could do this to me, she could just as easily turn on them.
Tapestries depicting royalty hung on the walls—kings and queens staring down at me with cold, painted eyes. Not that I knew who any of them were. I just assumed they were all as evil as Alanna.
Were there any of Grump’s family from before the Cormacs overthrew them? Or had Alanna or her father destroyed them all?
The guards turned down another hallway and stopped in front of a door at the end. One of them pushed it open.
"A servant will help you become presentable for our queen."
I walked past them without a word. The door shut behind me with a heavy thud. Guards would be stationed outside—there was no sense in trying to escape.
I took in the room. Soft bed. Clean linens. A wardrobe, a vanity, even fresh flowers on the nightstand. Why? Hours ago I was chained in a dungeon. Now this? Alanna didn't do kindness. There had to be a reason.
A woman stood in the center of the room, her head bowed. She looked up as I entered, and my breath caught.
Her skin was pale as fresh snow. Her lips were the deep red of ripe apples. Dark hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders, a stark contrast against her porcelain complexion. Even dressed in servant's rags, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
“I’m Brynn.” She curtsied, her movements graceful despite the rags she wore. “I am here to attend you and get you ready to meet Her Majesty.”
I froze.
Brynn. The name echoed in my head like a bell.
Brynn. Grump’s sister. The one they’d been trying to rescue. The one Alanna had kept as a servant all this time.
My aunt.
“You’re Brynn Whitveil, aren’t you?”
She stiffened, her gray eyes filling with unease. Fear, even. As if her own name was dangerous.
“Yes. How do you know that name?”
My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears. I pressed my hand over my chest—over the tattoo Darius had given me.
“I was with the Uncrowned.” The words tumbled out, shaky and breathless. “Grump is my father.”
Brynn’s eyes hardened. “I don’t believe you.”
I bit back a sigh. I didn't have time for this. "I'm not asking you to believe me. I'm telling you the truth. I can prove it.” I pulled down the collar of my tunic, revealing the tattoo of the Mad Hatter’s hat inked over my heart.
She gasped, her palms flying to cover her mouth, holding back a sob. Her gaze focused on me, and she lowered her hands. Her ruby-red lips parted, trembling.
For a long moment, she couldn’t speak.
“That’s… that’s the mark of the Uncrowned.” Her gray eyes lifted to mine, searching. “Only those loyal to my brother receive that mark.”
“I know. Because I am family. The Mad Hatter is my mate.”
The words tasted bittersweet. He was my mate—but I had no idea where he was. What Alanna was doing to him. If he was even still alive. I shoved the fear down. I couldn't fall apart. Not now.
Brynn’s eyes widened. “Hatter took a mate?” She ran her fingers through her hair. “He swore he never would.”
“And Grump—your brother—is my father. That makes you my aunt.”
She staggered back a step, bracing herself against the wall. “My brother’s daughter? My brother has a daughter?”
"Yes. My mother's name was Corina."
Brynn shook her head slowly. "I don't... I don't know that name. I was fourteen when my brothers escaped. I've been trapped here ever since."
"They left you here?"
The thought made me sick. She'd been a child. And they'd just... left her.
Pain flickered across her face. "I was attending Alanna at her bath when they escaped. They couldn't get to me." She swallowed hard. "It wasn't their fault. If they'd tried, she would have killed them. And me."
My heart ached for her. Trapped in this castle. Alone. Serving the monster who kept her prisoner. Never knowing what happened to her family.
I needed to understand. How long had she suffered here? How could her brothers have left her behind?
"How old are you, Brynn?"
"Twenty-one in human years, though Fae and the Unseelie count time differently. I'm the youngest." A sad smile tugged at her ruby-red lips. "My brothers were already in their teens when I was born. I was an accident."
Seven years. She'd been trapped here for seven years. Or at least what felt like seven years. It could even be longer.
She clutched my hand with her calloused one—hands roughened by years of servitude to the woman who kept her prisoner.
"I must get you ready for the queen." Her gray eyes held mine, urgent. Desperate. "But you must not tell her that I am your aunt. Or who you are. Promise me."
The memory of the cane crashing across my back flashed through me. Phantom pain rippled along my spine, and I shivered.
"Don't worry." I squeezed her hand back. "I won't."
Brynn led me into a marble bathroom. A long, pale blue dress hung on a gold rack, with matching pumps arranged beneath it. A streaming bubble bath waited, fragrant with lavender and something floral.
Such hypocrisy. Alanna wanted to present herself as a gracious queen—all luxury and beauty—when underneath she was worse than the Evil Queen in Snow White.
“Please get into the tub,” Brynn said softly. “I will help you get clean.”
I pulled off my tunic and clutched it tightly against my chest. "You won't throw my clothes away, will you?" Tears pushed at the back of my eyes. "They're special to me."
Archer's tunic. The hose that smelled like the grotto. The last pieces of Darius and the Uncrowned I had left.
Brynn's face softened. "No, I'll clean them for you. I promise."
I nodded and pulled off my hose, stepping into the warm water. For some reason, my usual modesty had been thrown out the window. Maybe it was knowing Brynn was family—the only family I had in this nightmare—and I clung to that.
As I turned my back to her, she gasped. “She beat you, didn’t she?”
I glanced over my shoulder as I lowered myself into the tub. "Yes." Then it hit me. The question rose before I could stop it—maybe too personal, maybe too soon. But I had to know. "She's beaten you too, hasn't she?"
“Ever since her prized prisoner escaped and Alanna lost the war. She blamed me for all of it."
"Prized prisoner?" I frowned. "Who?"
"The shadow witch, Joy."
My heart stuttered. "Joy? Joy is—she's safe. She's with Enzo. I know her."
Brynn stared at me like I'd grown a second head.
"I'm so sorry." I turned sideways in the tub and clasped her hand. "Joy was afraid of what would happen to you. She asked Hatter to find you."
Brynn wiped a tear and gave me a sad smile.
"It's not his fault. The guards were doubled around me after Joy escaped.
He couldn't have reached me even if he'd tried.
" She squeezed my hand. "The beatings, the years of servitude—it's only made me stronger.
Joy should have no regrets. Like you, she didn't belong in this world. "
I nodded numbly and turned around, letting the warm water lap against my skin. Would I ever see Joy again to tell her? Would I ever make it out of this place alive?
What she didn't know was I'd never belonged in my world either. I'd spent my whole life as an outsider—unwanted by my coven, abandoned by a family I couldn't remember.
But here? Hatter, Chester, Caterpillar, the Uncrowned—they had accepted me.
This broken, dangerous world felt more like home than Earth ever had.