Chapter 30
Uncomfortable didn’t even begin to describe it.
I was wearing a white dress with a silk red scarf around my shoulders that covered very little.
The spaghetti straps were made of diamond-shaped rhinestones and the loose fabric in the front made me feel like the entire dress could just slide off my body at any second.
The fabric was almost liquid against my skin, falling beautifully all the way to the floor beautifully, except for the slit on the right leg that went up to my thigh.
I might have thought for a moment that it was absolutely breathtaking in the mirror, but it was a disaster to walk in.
Too much skin exposed—which I usually didn’t mind one bit.
But I minded when I was here, and when I felt the way I did, and when I was surrounded by strangers—and most importantly, the queens.
Most importantly, the guests.
We had no idea who they would be, and Lida refused to say anything at all as she fixed my hair with her combs and brushes, styled it so that the front pieces curled against the sides of my forehead like they were snakes.
She clipped them just over my ears and let the rest loose down my back.
She even put makeup on me as well, glitter on the eyes and cheeks, a sheer gloss that made my lips look like they were covered in a layer of glass.
She put some red powder on my cheeks, too, which made me look like I was flushing.
It was better than anything I’d put on my face before, any makeup item I owned.
That, too, made me wonder why I hadn’t bothered to put anything on my face since I woke up here. I used to like it when my lips and cheeks were pink, and my eyes lined with black kohl—but who cared about what I looked like when I didn’t even feel like my own self in my skin?
I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t comfortable, though. And I wasn’t the only one who was forced to dress up in white and red.
All the girls wore white dresses with red details on them—Mimi had red shoes, her dress short but with long sleeves; Anika wore red earrings, lips, and a belt made of red rhinestones over her layered dress; Erith wore a large pendant on her open chest, her dress dipped all the way to her belly button in the front; Helen wore a red scarf on her head; and the back of Levana’s dress was like a spider’s web made entirely out of red, shimmery threads.
Each one of them looked absolutely stunning—and terrified at the same time.
The boys, too.
They all wore white suits with white shirts, and red ties and handkerchiefs folded in their chest pockets. Some had red buttons, and some red threads on their jackets, but all had white shoes and their hair sleeked back, their cheeks clean shaven.
March as well. His hair was brushed back, the curls too wild to be tamed all the way, but they stayed behind his head for now.
He looked exactly the same, but also different.
More…refined. Like a polished version of himself with the crisp white jacket that melted so perfectly around his wide shoulders, and that red bow in front of his throat, and the silk red handkerchief folded in his chest pocket that could have been cut from the very same fabric as my scarf.
He looked outstanding. He looked otherworldly. I made a fool of myself staring openly with my lips parted, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Then we were on our way.
I kept my head down and tried not to make eye contact with anyone, but as always, I felt March’s attention on me the whole time.
Easy to guess, even if I still didn’t know how it was possible to feel a look on your skin like a physical touch.
The others seemed to be in a better mood since we were forced to our rooms to get ready, though.
They were chatting, complimenting one another, smiling.
Meanwhile, I was trying to survive—March’s attention from wherever he was behind me as we walked down the stairs, as well as the thought that someone was going to find the heartlock and my sketchbook while I was away.
I’d hidden both under the mattress of my bed when I told Lida I was feeling lightheaded and asked her to get me some water.
If they found my things and took them, I was going to set this entire building on fire, I thought. I wouldn’t even hesitate.
And then we were outside.
When Elida said that the banquet would be held here at the Labyrinth, I was sure she meant one of the many empty, large halls inside the palace. There were a lot of them, each more beautiful than the last, and there was plenty of space for a party—but no.
Elida took us out the front doors of the palace and to the side of it, toward the mechanical garden where I’d hidden twice now, and where Silas used his magic to save Reggie’s life, knowing he would see the color of it. Knowing Reggie would know what Silas clearly wanted to remain a secret.
How-why-why?
But the questions and the memories were wiped clean from my mind soon when I saw where the banquet was actually being held and when I saw the people.
“It’s quite something, isn’t it?” said Elida, no longer looking nervous, only excited now. She was wearing white, too, and her white hat had a red bow on the side, and the buttons of her vest were small and red as well, but they looked like blood dripping down her front instead.
“Welcome to the Backward Banquet!”
Applause.
The view behind her was blurry for a moment, as if my eyes didn’t even want to see, but eventually I had to focus.
On the left of the mechanical garden, closer to the tower of the Great Clock, there was an open field now where I could have sworn there had been trees before.
A tiny forest with actual trees—as far as I knew—and it was gone now, like the trees had been pulled out by the roots or swallowed by the ground. Like Reggie.
In their place was a mosaic floor made of white and red tiles, perfectly square in the middle of the lush green field, like the grass had casually just transitioned into tiles from one step to the next. Like the tiles had just grown on the field, and it was all perfectly normal.
On the mosaic floor were the people.
Guests. At least fifty of them, if not more, and they were standing near tables full of red and white roses, and they were looking at us, clapping, smiling, calling.
In front of all them, right in the middle, were the queens.
My breath caught in my throat and the image I kept seeing in my nightmares came before me—of the Red Queen with her pale face and red lips and that whisper.
My body felt like it was in pain right now, too, perfectly capable of replicating the feeling, and I had to close my eyes and breathe deeply just to pull myself out of my head.
Then we were walking.
I wasn’t sure how the others felt, but my legs moved, and the people grew bigger, their applause louder, the faces of the queens closer.
The White Queen smiled, her hands on her sides, her round eyebrows all the way to the middle of her forehead.
She wore white with a large red rose attached to the collar of her dress, right over her heart.
Meanwhile, the Red Queen was regal, thin brows arched like rooftops, her curly hair much brighter here than it was in my dreams, but the face was hers.
She wore a red dress, bigger, fluffier than that of the White Queen, with a white rose attached to the front of it, over her heart.
I couldn’t look away from her for a moment as Elida told us under her breath to keep moving with every step.
We were close, so close, and the Great Clock loomed over our heads just there, and the sky was still dark but getting lighter by the moment, the sun about to start un-setting possibly within minutes.
Then the Red Queen moved, went to the side and all around the guests who bowed their heads and moved away like roaches to make way for her. Soldiers dressed in red velvet and silver armor stuck to her, five of them. Within the second, the wall of people hid her away from our view.
I breathed a little easier—until I focused on said people.
Spades, Clubs, Hearts, Diamonds—they were everywhere, all together, in suits and ties, dresses and sparkly jewelry. Men and women with smiles on their faces and a gleaming in their eyes as they watched us approaching, like we weren’t people but prizes. Shiny things to be admired.
The gears and cogs in my stomach turned violently. Was this where my body would decide to start throwing up? Because I didn’t have the throw-up bag with me—where would I even put it? Lida hadn’t mentioned it at all.
Then we were there.
Whoever was standing next to me, I had the urge to grab their hand just to make sure I didn’t fall.
“Welcome, my dearest tickers! Welcome to the Backward Banquet, a feast in your honor, and in honor of the unwinnings that you will bring us in the coming days—welcome!”
More applause. More cheering.
More bile in my mouth.
“Breathe, breathe, breathe,” someone whispered to me, except when I turned just slightly to see who was behind me, I found it was Mimi, and she was telling herself that, not me.
Either way, it helped.
I focused on her rhythm, released my breath when she did, breathed in deeply at the same time.
I wasn’t sure why my body was reacting this way to the crowd, but I doubted I’d ever wanted to be anywhere else in the world as much as I did now.
I doubted I’d ever wanted someone’s attention off me with such desperation.
But here, I couldn’t run.
Forward we went as the White Queen waved for us to do so. No more grass underneath my heeled shoes, only tiles, red and white, big, shiny—they made me dizzy three seconds in.