Food is brought by dozens of efficient servants, and in a twinkling the table is laden with an impressive feast. 

Fortunately, rich people in Wonderland seem to eat much the same as rich people in Britain, and Dante can get by with no more than copying his neighbours' fork selections if he's never experienced a formal dinner before. 

"Tell me," the Queen asks between forkfuls of steak, "how does this compare to a meal you might see in your own country?" 

"… It is far more lavish," he says. "Definitely not what common folk would expect."

"We are indeed fortunate, to be fed so well," Lord Grosvenor comments. He has somehow managed to wrangle a seat two down from Dante, with his partner for the evening sitting between them. 

Under the cover of a chorus of agreement from those sitting close enough to hear his words, he leans back - disguised as a contented stretch - and taps Dante's hand, passing him a small slip of paper. 

Dante's smile – him not having been smiling very much – does not falter at this, and he instead takes and pockets the note without much of a reaction.

"I admit to being curious about your… technology?"

"Oh, I'm afraid that isn't my area of expertise," the Queen demurs. 

His various neighbours also disclaim any substantial knowledge of technology; they're courtiers, not businessmen or farmers. 

Dante tries not to frown at this too obviously.

"Your landscape is… really something."

"The gardens?" she guesses.

"Yes, they are quite something, aren't they. Or did you mean the maze?"

"I – both, actually, but – more specifically, the pattern of the whole region."

"Ah," she says, nodding.

"The squares. Wonderland's own unique expression of the patterns of the land. Unfortunately, I cannot take credit for their presence, only for the modifications which allowed me to build a palace here, in the centre." 

"It looks like… the setup to a board game, one where I'm from."

Now he has her full attention. Only at this point does it become obvious, in retrospect, that it was not so before. 

"I believe," the Queen says in a strange tone, each word precise and measured, "that I should like to discuss this further in private." 

Her voice returns to normal as she continues, "After dinner, of course. Is that agreeable?"

"– Of course, Your Majesty."

"Very good."

She returns to eating, a slight smile on her face. The conversation picks back up around them. 

… Dante also gets back to eating, and does not bring up any other mentions of games where he's from.

Dinner proceeds without incident through two more courses. 

After dessert, the Queen dismisses her court, and invites Dante to follow her into the smallest room he's seen in the palace so far. It's still at least three times the size of his living room at home, but appears to serve a somewhat similar function judging by the furniture. Marcella takes a seat in an armchair of red velvet, which bears a striking resemblance to her throne.

Among the many differences between this sitting room and those Dante might be familiar with, perhaps the most unnerving - aside from the fact that he is in the presence of a queen - is the, presumably, bodyguard standing at attention against one wall. 

Now dressed in a white tabard with a single heart emblazoned on the chest, the Ace of Hearts stares blankly at Dante from across the room. 

"Do sit down," the queen invites him. She gestures at a couch adjacent to her armchair, upholstered in white with square black cushions.  

With the other hand, she reaches for one of the gems hanging around her neck, picking out the second one from the left and tapping it. Static fills his ears for a second.

"There," she says. "Now we may speak without fear of eavesdroppers."

… He shifts a bit uncomfortably in the chair. "May I ask what that was?"

"Merely a spell to prevent us from being overheard." They seem to be in the centre of an invisible bubble: all sound from outside the room has been cut off. 

"As the spell is of limited duration, let us begin without further ado," she declares.

"You described Wonderland as resembling a game board; what do you know of its rules?"

"– There are various kinds of pieces, um, I think the board is typically…" He pauses, counts in the air, "eight by eight? Two sides to the board, one set black and one white. There are I think six different pieces? Each side of the board gets the same pieces, including eight pawns, two knights, two rooks, two bishops, a king and a queen, and they can move in restricted ways and the aim is to lock the opposing king to be unable to move."

She listens intently.

"Black and white? Not red and white?"

"… It's sometimes more 'dark' and 'light' than black and white but – not red, no."

"Interesting," she comments. 

"And if I were to tell you that, before my time, Wonderland was ruled by two opposing monarchs, the Red King and the White King?"

"… Then I would wonder if there was also a Black King, because – there's the playing card reference, on your… guards?"

"Do elaborate," she invites, leaning back in her chair. 

"Please assume for the purposes of your explanation that I know nothing of these games or their rules."