Page 27 of Madness Becomes Her
“I did. You know, this would be much easier if you came to live at court like I’ve asked a thousand times.”
“I know, Your Majesty. It’s only that I hat for so many folks; how would I continue my business with a beautiful head like yours distracting me at all times of the day?” Finlo lays it on thick, and it honestly nauseates me.
I also can’t help the ring of jealousy in my stomach, even when I know he’s just placating her.
“Who’s that behind you? Why’s her head so small?”
Lewis and Finlo part, and I step forward. Bowing, I greet her. “Your Majesty, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Eleanor.”
Finlo grows rigid beside me as the queen stands.
“Not that Eleanor, Your Majesty,” Lewis adds. “Another one.”
They hadn’t said I couldn’t use my name. All my memories aren’t back, but I didn’t realize she would remember me.
The queen stops in front of me, tipping my head back.
Her thinly painted red brows knit together. Her head is enormous, and it’s wild to think that she only uses her abnormally large brain for evil.
“Yes. You’re not the same, Eleanor. Pity, the other one owes me her life.”
I swallow. How could I owe her my life?
“This is my new assistant. I’m getting older. I need the help.”
“Mm,” the queen says, still holding my face hostage, her thin hands cold against my skin. “Good thing you brought her. I need a hat for this evening. The Knave and I are going on a date. I’ll need the perfect hat.” She releases her grip, turning back for her throne, and Lewis grabs my hand again.
I grip onto him like he’s my lifeboat in a sea of uncertainty as Finlo and the queen go back and forth about hats.
I’m granted leave to use the restroom—thank God they have those here—and on my way back to the throne room, I take the liberty of my freedom and poke about some.
I assume the queen is holding Finlo’s sister somewhere lower than the palace’s ground floor, but still, I open doors quickly, peering inside the rooms behind them before shutting them.
When I find a library, there’s a woman inside.
She’s sitting on a reading bench, and she seems so familiar that I can’t help but walk inside, glaring at her like a loon.
“Excuse me?” I squeak.
She looks up, and her green eyes lock onto me. Standing, she tosses her book aside. “Eleanor? Oh, it simply cannot be. Fin said you were gone. He said that you were…”
“I’m sorry. I don’t recall your name. Are you Finlo’s sister?”
She smiles. “Those pesky security charms. Your memories will return. Yes, I am. Ariadne.” She places her hand out for me to shake, a very human-like thing to do. “Don’t you remember? You taught me this gesture.”
I swallow. “No. Not yet.”
I shake her hand, and she smiles warmly before her eyes dart toward the door in alarm. “Why are you here? Is Finlo alright? Are you alright? You never came before unless you were… is something the matter?”
“Everything is fine. I’m… I’m fine.”
She purses her lips. “Well, that was very convincing.”
It strikes me that this is the most intelligible conversation I’ve had here yet, and I wonder if that’s why I gravitated toward Ariadne before or if I did.
“I’ll be alright.”
“I hope so. But Fin is doing well?”
