Everything in this castle seemed to be white. The armour in the halls, the tunics of the knights, the halls themselves, the doors, the corridors. Red glared and tapped her foot, wishing she could crack these stupid marble tiles.
"Welcome, sister," the little Queen said finally, bowing low and then curtsying. A flicker of annoyance passed over the Red Queen's face at hearing her sister's soft tones. Of course, White was at her home here, and they couldn't exactly get along, which meant at some point she would have to leave. She'd be glad to leave, but it would mean that she couldn't tease White as much. And that was fun, White didn't have any resistance to her teasing and would cry, those pretty pale cheeks drowned in clear tears. White's tears weren't salt water, but pure water, and it was quite amazing to see. Red had always been fascinated by them ever since they had first become aware.
It also meant, recently, that Hatter would stand up for White, acting like a knight even though he was just himself. Those eyes would glint with hatred and Red thought that was very amusing to watch.
She turned her attention back to White. "Oh, and very welcome you make me without a single splash of colour here aside from the Hatter and myself. One would almost find it upsetting, if I did not know that it wasn't deliberate." She looked for a long while at her sister, until the other began to become tearful and she walked past, sighing.
"Was it deliberate, White?" she asked, and the little Queen burst into those pure tears, which Red watched with delight. Hatter's expression was stormy as he comforted the little Queen, telling her how Red was just a menacing person who liked to make her cry. White sobbed never the less, and Red smirked in victory as she headed out to the garden. Here there was green grass and white roses – Heart would have had a fit – and several people dressed in various shades of white swanning about on a marble platform with delicate white taples and chairs, ornate in their design. Most held roses, and one child held a bunch of daisies as he crafted them into a daisy chain. His hands were rather grubby, and Red felt a scowl creep onto her face in distaste.
These flowers had hardly any colour save wretched white, but at least the deep rich green of their leaves was something. It was better than the castle, in which you were virtually drowning in shades of ivory and cream, and if you looked at the brighter shades of white, your eyes hurt, screaming for a nice scarlet colour. Even these people's complexions were too pale to go near a light pink in the cheeks.
