Page 18 of Fated to the Wicked King

Among all the other creatures across Wünder, the Hatter was the only other being sufficiently enlightened who might be able to help me in completing my latest invention.

The eccentric Hatter was once a brilliant scientist, before madness took hold of him. He controlled a convergence of otherworldly energy, likely the very same magical doorways through which I had stumbled into this land to begin with.

Unfortunately, in the days succeeding the shift of power, the Hatter had mysteriously disappeared. It was unclear whether the magical doorways had disappeared too. But without a way to cross the River of Tears, it was impossible to confirm.

If only I could cross the river, I could at least search the Mad Hatter’s laboratory again. He might have the last spare part I required. I might even find traces of the magical doorways and perhaps take over its operations.

The king’s eyebrows rose. “The River of Tears has been impassable for many moons. Even I am not aware of how it came to be so.”

“But with Your Majesty’s powerful magic, surely you would be able to find a way.” I gave him my best imploring look.

I had noticed so far that, whenever I called the king ‘Your Majesty’, it evoked a particular reaction in him. I was curious if perhaps I could use it to my advantage.

“Fine.” His answer was curt, offhand, but with a hint of frustration which I wasn’t able to decipher.

I lifted my chin in satisfaction. I was right.

“I shall help you to the other side of the river.” He sighed. He seemed almost bored now. “And the third condition?”

I lifted my wrists with a clink. “Remove these chains.”

The king gave the slightest wave of his hand, and the chains around me dissolved into the ether.

“We have a bargain then.”

I gave a slight nod.

“Say the words.” His deep voice rumbled, and a chill shot up my spine.

I tried not to stammer. “A bargain.”

Seven

PAWN TO SQUARE FOUR

Ihadn’t slept at all.

The sun had set and risen twice since I’d been dragged from my cozy clock tower and essentially put to work interrogating the Wicked King’s prisoners.

The same thing happened as on the first day. His Majesty would have me assess a fresh batch of suspected traitors or disloyal citizens. Various groups of people, possibly from different kingdoms across the land.

On occasion that I came across a particularly hateful aura, the king would waste no time and take them away for punishment.

I always tried to resist exposing these people’s thoughts, feelings, or motives, but I barely needed to speak before he would understand.

I didn’t know if he sent everyone to the gallows as he did before—despite my many protests.

The king would even drag away certain individuals before I had an opportunity to assess them. I had stopped asking why when it became clear I would never get any satisfactory answers.

How long was this supposed to go on? How many prisoners had he captured? I’d already questioned dozens of people, and yet there were still more.

I stared out of the thick glass windows of my chambers, my reflection distorted. The bright full moon shone on the castle grounds. Fog rolled along the plain green lawns outside, much like inside the castle, where everything was shrouded in shadows.

Was it all real? Or was I merely dreaming?

Even without my own chains, it was impossible not to feel trapped.

I glanced back at the four-poster bed, the sparkling, opulent furnishings in my chambers, easily three times the size of my tower loft.