She was going to do it. This was her chance;
to defeat Alice.
She was fond the girl as a child, but now that she had slaughtered her Jabberwocky, ruined her kingdom, and had taken it all for herself, the ex-Queen of Hearts despised her. Selfish little brat, she thought, just like her younger sister, ruining and destroying all of her work and progress, her personal chaos storm. Why was she always the favorite? Why did she get all the attention? Oh, yes, of course, thinking to herself, she was the angel; the perfect, pure, deity child, while the real heir to the thrown was an ugly, red, monster.
Crimson hair and pure black eyes, while her skin kept the shade of cream, she was not beautiful to them, no, she was a fiend. No matter how much her handmaidens curled her hair, or applied color to her face, or dressed her in exquisite gowns, she was not beautiful, or even pretty.
She never would be.
Frightening everyone around her, servants would tremble in her presence, rumors about her brutally murdering pets and decapitating dolls began to flourish, and she was turning into an embarrassment and as her parents whispered, a mistake.
"Our daughter isn't liable for the thrown!" her father would try to utter as softly as he could,
"How can you say that? Do you actually believe those lies that have been spread by the public?" her mother fought back, barely keeping her pitch,
"There must be some truth in them! How would they get started in the first place?" he argued back,
"But Vivacia would never do such a thing!" her mother demanded,
…
"Would she?"
That was how most of their disputes had gone. They never stopped.
Her sister had received the crown, not her. She had been abandoned by her family.
She was going to get that crown.
And she didn't care what she had to do to get it.