from Earth. “Record a message to Queen Alyss—a confession, if you will—of everything that happened
between you and Lady Diamond. All you have to do is tell the truth. Tell your queen how you feel.” His eyes swiveled to the newscast, where the Sirk was reporting on the estimated number of Wonderland casualties.
Molly turned the diary over in her hands. She alone had brought destruction to the city that she loved. She had no reason to trust the minister. But it might be the last chance she had of ever seeing her mother again.
She pressed the sides of the diary, its cover popped open and— “Dear Queen Alyss…” she started, recording her confession. CHAPTER 21
I T DIDN’T take a genius tactician to see that failure was imminent, Alyss more powerful than Arch had supposed. He would have to focus on his contingency plan and let the Glass Eyes attack on Wonderland fizzle out—a circumstance mildly disappointing, but not worrisome. Such a strategist was the king that he had a contingency plan for his contingency plan, and even, if circumstances required, a contingency plan for his contingency plan’s contingency plan. Besides, he had utilized the Glass Eyes as a lark. If he had truly believed that they alone might depose Alyss, why would he have bothered with the scheme involving Weaver and Homburg Molly, which was progressing as well as he could have hoped? If concluded successfully, it would provide him with invaluable military intelligence and no small addition to his special forces for the time he did make his ultimate move on Wonderland. Resting in his quarters, Arch reached to the bedside table, slid the amoeba-shaped communication nodule into its appropriate slot as if inserting the final piece in a jigsaw puzzle, and a moment later his huddle of intel ministers appeared.
“How’s our young guest?” he asked.
“As docile as any child could be, wearing a drug-delivery system as she is,” said one of the ministers. “She constantly demands to see her mother,” said another, “and somewhat less constantly demands that we return her homburg to her.”
Arch nodded. “Has she recorded the confession to her queen?” “She has. But only because we promised to let her see her mother again.” The minister handed the diary to his king. “Let her see her mother,” Arch said, “but from a distance. They’re not to speak to each other. What of the Diamonds? Are they still…occupied?”
The ministers grinned. “The Lady of Diamonds is relaxing at one of our imagination retreats. The father and son have as much wine, food, and music as they can desire, and they are surrounded by company. The pair are insatiable. Some have complained that, in addition to making everyone around him wear wigs of dried grass, the son is somewhat gross.” “Just make sure they’re encouraged in their debauchery. I want everything ready for the time when they will wake to find themselves in circumstances much altered for the worse.” “Everything is ready, Your Majesty. We wait only for your word.”
Seeing Redd
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