Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
HOOK
The knock on the door is soft, a tentative sound in the otherwise quiet room.
I watch as Alice glances over at me, clearly expecting me to move.
Instead, I lounge on the bed, one arm propped behind my head, bottle in hand, a picture of pure indifference.
She scowls, her eyes flicking to my face as though waiting for some chivalrous gesture.
Amusing, really—she ought to know better by now.
“Oh, I’ll get it, then, shall I?”
She moves to open the door, and I shift just enough to watch her reaction.
A young woman stands there, carrying a tray piled with food and a small bundle of clothes.
The girl’s eyes fixate on Alice with an intensity I recognise all too well, something like awe, or even reverence. Wonderland folk are odd that way..
Alice doesn’t notice, of course. She takes the bundle of clothes offered to her—some fine red dress with lace, far nicer than what you’d expect in a place like this. I note the slight reluctance in the girl's gaze, as though she's parting with something precious. Interesting.
“Thank you,” Alice says, her voice softer than usual, almost respectful.
She’s taken by the gesture, and I can’t resist the flash of amusement that sparks within me.
She may act the cynic, but there’s a sliver of her that’s still wide-eyed.
She keeps trying to snuff it out, but it’s there all the same.
The girl leaves, casting Alice one last odd look before she disappears down the hall. Alice closes the door, and for a brief moment, there’s silence except for the crackling fire. I let my gaze settle on her, amused at the way she’s standing there, clutching the dress as though it might burn her.
I tug the tray toward me, lifting the silver lid.
The odd assortment of Wonderland foods gleam under the candlelight: honeyed bread, a plate of biscuits dusted with some silvery powder, and berries so dark they’re almost black.
There’s cheese too, flecked with strange blue-green hues, and meat swimming in a dark, rich gravy.
It’s all peculiar, distinctly Wonderland, and entirely inviting—if you’re not the cautious type.
“Want some?” I ask, popping a berry into my mouth, eyebrow raised in a deliberate challenge.
She folds her arms, looking suspiciously at the tray. “Do I look like I have a death wish? I value my insides, thanks.”
I shrug, grinning. “Suit yourself. More for me.” I tear off a piece of bread, dunking it into the gravy, and savour the way her gaze flickers to it despite herself.
Her stomach grumbles, loud enough that even she can’t ignore it.
“You know, I can hear your stomach from here,” I say, breaking off another piece of bread and holding it out. “Eat.”
She eyes it, reluctant, but her mouth is practically watering. Instead, she mumbles, “I could really use a coffee right now,” her voice barely hiding her need for a distraction.
I roll my eyes. “Listen to yourself, princess. ‘Oh, I could use a coffee right now,’” I mimic, lightening my voice into a ridiculous caricature of her own.
Her eyes narrow, but I catch the faintest twitch of her lips.
“Just eat the bread.” I offer her the bottle from earlier.
“And drink. We’ve got a good five hours before sunrise. ”
She snatches the bread and casts a wary glance at the bottle.
The way her eyes dart from the bottle to my mouth as I tip it back and take a hearty swig doesn’t escape me.
She tries to hide it, but I can tell she’s watching me, more than she’d like to admit.
My lips curl as I lower the bottle, letting the flicker of a smirk dance on my mouth, just for her.
With a huff, she grabs the dress and makes for the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower. And I’m getting out of this dress before I freeze.”
“Give me a shout if you need a hand,” I call after her, knowing full well it’ll annoy her. Her only response is to slam the door, but I don’t miss the faint colour in her cheeks before she does. This is becoming a game—one I intend to keep playing.