It was all that fucking prince's fault.
That is the only thought that she has been able to think for the past three weeks, the only thought able to penetrate the haze of grief and guilt that has surrounded her brain. It pulses through her mind again, so strongly she can practically hear it in her ears, drowning out her mother's sobs, and her father's shouts, and the sound of something shattering. It's all his fault. This is all because of him. He said he was your friend. He lied, he lied, he lied.
She feels a sharp pain and realizes that she has clenched her fists shut so tightly that her nails have cut into her palms, and now the little crescents are welling up with blood. If Cecily had been there, she would have held her hand between her tiny fingers, and kissed each and every cut, looking up with her big brown eyes staring up out of her tiny face. "All better," she would have said, because she was still at that age where she believed that that actually worked, and everything would have been fine. But it wasn't anymore. It wasn't fine, because she would never see Cecily again, and her baby sister was laying at the bottom of a cliff somewhere, and it was all her - no, his fault. Because it might have been her magic that sent her sister flying over that cliff in a whirl of dark hair and wildflowers, but it had been his words, his game, his choice to push her until she snapped.
Magic always comes with a price. She had been born with this gift, her magic, and she had always loved it because it made her unique, and different. Special. It didn't matter that she couldn't control it, that for eighteen years it had been practically non-existent, until she wished on every star out there for it to either work or leave her alone. It was still hers.
Magic always comes with a price.
She just hadn't been prepared to pay it. And even now, sitting alone in her room with nothing to keep her company except for her thoughts, she feels it, a tingling sensation, lingering just underneath her skin. Magic. Power. She hates that it took the loss of her sister to unlock it, hates that even though Cecily was the thing she loved the most in this whole fucking world, she still wants it. She wants to learn how to use it, how to control it, how to be able to experience that rush of power again. She knows that if her sister were here, she would do everything she could to stop her from going through with this. But Cecily isn't here, and she's got nothing else holding her back. Well, her parents might protest, but by now she cares about them about as much as she does Prince fucking Charming, and if she has to get rid of them she will. Because at this point she has made up her mind, and nothing is going to stop her from doing this.
Learning magic. Gaining power. Getting revenge.
She doesn't care anymore that she and the prince have been inseparable since they were five, or that they've sworn to always be there for each other, no matter what. He already broke that promise, why shouldn't she? Yes, she decides. She's going to leave this house and this place until she's far away. She'll wait until she has been forgotten, a distant memory. She'll wait until he has a chance at getting everything, and then she will make it her personal goal to make Prince Charming's life hell. She was nobody when she walked into her room this afternoon, just a grieving sister with nothing special about her. But when she leaves, still with cuts on her hands and a child's doll cradled to her chest, she is an entirely different person.