‘But . . .’ Her throat dried and it was a struggle to wet it again. ‘But you said . . . I could have my bakery, and . . .’

Jest chuckled, a warm sound that surprised her. His grip tightened. ‘That’s just it. Once the war is over, the White Queen can take over again – we won’t need two queens, after all – and you can be anything you want. And you and I—’

He was interrupted by the sound of marching in the direction of the castle. Cath tensed and looked back, spotting two rows of Club guards making their way down the steps. The Ace of Clubs stood at their helm, shouting orders to spread out and search the grounds.

Jest was staring at her when she faced him again. ‘I know you never wanted to be a queen,’ he said, apology lacing his voice.

A humourless laugh burbled out of her mouth. ‘It seems I was going to be a queen either way.’ She wriggled one hand out of his hold and traced the painted heart on his cheek with the pad of her thumb. ‘I love you, Jest. I want to be with you, any way I can.’

His breath formed crystals on the air. Boots echoed, hitting the gravel paths. Overhead, Raven let out a warning caw.

Jest grabbed her suddenly, crushing his mouth against hers. Cath threw her arms around his neck, delighting in the way her heart expanded as if it could consume them both.

‘I love you too,’ he whispered in the spaces between another kiss, and another. ‘I love you too.’

It was impossible, and she absolutely believed it.

He was kissing her again when Raven coughed, loudly. ‘They are coming. We mustn’t tarry any longer.’

Cath and Jest looked up into the tree boughs.

‘That didn’t rhyme,’ said Cath.

‘Who has the time?’ Raven snapped.

‘He’s right, of course,’ said Jest, beaming. ‘Yet this interlude has been sublime.’ He grabbed his hat and pulled Cath to her feet.

With a nod from Jest, Raven swooped down to join them, just as Cath heard the first guards clomping through the rose gardens. No sooner had Raven landed on Jest’s shoulder than the earth quaked and a tower of stone burst up from the ground, swallowing them back down.

CATH DID NOT KNOW IF this magic could be called a tower, a tunnel, a bridge, or some other impossible passageway, but she was relieved when it deposited them into the meadow outside Hatta’s shop. She was trembling, though Jest and Raven looked as though travelling through the earth was the most natural thing in the world.

‘And to think,’ she gasped, pushing herself up on to wobbly legs, ‘I’ve been bothering with carriages all these years, when there was such a more reasonable way of travelling.’

Jest was grinning as widely as ever as he laced his fingers with hers. ‘It’s a favoured trick of us Rooks,’ he said. ‘You get used to it.’

She sniffed and straightened her gown. ‘That remains to be seen.’

They approached the Marvellous Millinery with their hands fiercely entwined. The windows of the travelling shop glowed warm and gold, but the forest was quiet.

Jest reached for the doorknob on the shop’s round door but found himself holding a furry striped tail. A cat yowled.

Jest jumped away, bracing his body in front of Cath’s.

Cheshire’s head appeared next, grinning enormously despite the way his slitted eyes glared. He licked at his injured tail. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘that was uncouth.’

‘Cheshire, what are you doing here?’ asked Catherine.

‘Tending to my wounds. I fear he may have bruised me.’

She fisted a hand on her hip. ‘I mean it, Cheshire. Have you been following us?’

He stopped licking and his tail vanished, leaving only his bulbous head hanging where there might have been a door knocker. ‘Following you? I was here first, dear girl.’

Catherine lifted an eyebrow.

Cheshire’s vivid smile widened even further. ‘I heard a rumour that you had fled the masquerade in the arms of our most-wanted criminal. Well, our only wanted criminal. I wanted to see the truth of it for myself.’

‘And now you’ve seen it. Please move aside.’

Cheshire’s eyes narrowed, peering into the distance. ‘Is that bird friend or food?’

Cath and Jest glanced back. Raven had claimed a spot on a low-hanging tree bough. He puffed up his feathers until he was the same size as Cheshire. Or, the same size that Cheshire would have been had his entire body been visible.

‘Friend,’ said Catherine, turning back. ‘What do you want?’

Cheshire’s head turned upside down. ‘I suppose you haven’t any idea what’s been about this evening. Been awful preoccupied, what with your proposal and such and such. Do you want to hear about it?’

‘Not particularly. I have a few preoccupations of my own, you may have noticed.’

‘It involves the pumpkin eater.’

Her gut tightened. She’d all but forgotten how Sir Peter had accosted her earlier that evening. ‘Why would I have any interest in him?’

‘And also Mary Ann. And even the Jabberwock. A zesty new rumour that might be even more scandalous than our King’s bride running away with the Joker. I’m positively dying to tell someone’ – his eyes turned to silver coins, like those placed upon the dead – ‘and you were the first person I thought who would want to know.’

A chill scurried down her spine. She could sense Jest peering at her, could imagine his concern, his curiosity, but she shoved her own curiosity down into the pit of her stomach, right beside the angry pit where lay Mary Ann’s betrayal.