Sat upon her throne, regal features set into a glare, as she hovered over the woman whimpering on the floor below. A crowd had gathered around her, a congregation of playing cards guarding the exits and watching the scene play out without a say in anything.

She smiled, a psychopathic Cheshire-cat like grin, and she almost laughed with glee as almost everyone in the room shivered. Her husband, the King of Hearts, was utterly confused, she could tell, though she offered him no explanation.

The woman opened her eyes, lifting them to meet the queen's; a daring act if you ask one of her soldiers. She was wearing simple white petticoats, which,  in the eyes of a rich monarch, were rags. Alongside that, her short black hair was uneven and matted, as though it hadn't been cut or brushed in years.

"Mercy!" The 'prisoner' cried, tears filling in her eyes. "Sweetie, stop this madness!"

She was a trembling mess upon the palace floor; sobs retching from her throat, coughs and sniffles echoing to the back of the ballroom, yet the Queen of Hearts didn't retreat her act of humiliation.

Enraged due to the nickname the peasant had labelled her, the Queen felt her face turn an unattractive shade of red - well to an onlooker it may have not been appealing - and her eyes turn bloodshot.

"You -" she stood from her throne, ignoring the king's supposedly soothing hand as he tried to rest it on her forearm. "O-off with her he-" she stuttered, until she was interrupted for the fifth time that hour by the target.

"Darling, please. Don't you remember?" The woman's voice tried to penetrate a hole in the ruler's cranium, aiming to slither its way through her skull, like a snake, and sugar her soul to be sweet again. It didn't work. Because she remembered. Yes she remembered.
  * * *

"Mummy!" Corazana Bardsley was the oldest of the two girls birthed to Marie Bardsley. She had short black hair, usually tied back into a messy bun, and black eyes, which seemed to contract every time she became agitated. Which was often. 

Her sister, Kimberlie, was the exact opposite of Cora. Blond hair, blue eyes, sweet smile and childish persona. You could say that Kim was the more favourable one out of the two, though you may end up on the wrong side of Cora's temper, so the family wouldn't advice it.

Maria turned around as she closed the oven door. She had just placed her fresh batch of cookies for the bakery in the oven, yet the aroma was already filtering through the door.

"What?" She demanded impatiently, watching the six year old meander her way through the shelves of cooking books and pots and pans. A glance upon Marie's personality, and you can immediately understand where Cora's anger issues originated.

Cora looked up at her mother, eyes squinting as though sensing the resentment. "Kim pushed me."

Marie signed. "Are you hurt?" Cora shook her head. "Then you don't need to complain. Now go and wash, dinner's nearly ready."

Cora nodded, though she couldn't help the thoughts running through her mind. Well, she could, but why would she?

I bet if I pushed Kim then Mother would give her a hug, and whip me, as per usual. Kim never gets the whip. Of course not, Kim's perfect. Which is why I must prove to mother that I am more perfect than her. But is there a way to do so? A way which will steer mother's view from the innocent eyes of her? Of course. Money. Power. Fame. If I could get those, then mother would favour me.

And so the competition was on.

* * *

Almost ten years later, Cora ran to the door just as the guard from the royal court was going to knock. She curtseyed, low and steadily, just as she's practiced. "A pleasure to meet you," she grovelled.

The guard nodded, tapping his fingers awkwardly on his lap. He cleared his throat, trying to regain any sense of control over the situation. How had she known I was coming? He wondered.

"The royal highness, the Prince of Hearts, is holding a Royal ball to find a suitor, to aid him in ruling the kingdom—"

Cora drowned out the rest of his speech. She was awaiting the letter he was giving her.

"Here you go, Miss."

The letter was enclosed in a parchment envelope, sealed with the silver heart crest of the kingdom. It was smooth, unlike all the creased paper she owned. "Thank you," she muttered her voice honeyed.

The guard nodded and turned on his heal.

Cora shut the oak door as quietly as possible, so not to wake the other two residents of the house. She excitedly opened the letter, though she already knew what was in it.

Of course that's when her sister decided it was time to come down stairs. She almost ran into Cora when she was heading to the kitchen.

"Cora!" Kim exclaimed in surprise. Then her vision tuned into the object clasped in Cora's hand. The letter. "What's that?"

Kimberlie snatched the paper out of Cora's hands. "A ball? Why would you want to go to a ball?"

Cora didn't reply turning on her heal as she stormed into the kitchen. She grabbed a bread roll and stuffed as much as she could into her mouth. She furiously chewed and swallowed. She was about to take another bite when her anger surged through her like running syrup.

She threw the food, hitting Kim hard on the head. But she wasn't going to stop there. She screamed, her own personalised battle cry, and threw herself at her sister. "I want to go to the ball because I do. Now the prince of Hearts is awaiting me, so move. The ball is tomorrow."

* * *

Cora, Kim and Marie stood together at the entrance the palace, queueing to get into the ballroom.

Marie was dressed in a black dress, with white flower embroidery patterned on the bodice. It flowed down to the floor, hiding the atrocious shoes that she couldn't afford to replace.

Next to her Cora had snatched the mirror off Kim, and was checking her reflection for any flaws. Her dress, too, was black, but was decorated around the bottom with red diamonds. Her bodice was also of red Material, with long flowing sleeves of black and red stripes.

Kim, deciding to differ from them, wore a pastel blue A-line dress with a purple jacket wrapped around her arms. Her blue slippers adorned her feet, and she wore a slight touch of make-up.

Kim sighed, "Mother, Cora stole my mirror."

"Cora give it back this instant."

And that was it. Marie was too focused on herself to worry anymore about Kim, which, for Cora, was an achievement. Kim gasped as she tried to attain Marie's attention, tried to steal a punishment for Cora.

But that was it.

They entered the ball room, signing in with the guard, and flouncing past all the other maidens who were there for the prince.

* * *

Cora didn't exactly know how it happened; she knew she was pretty, but she wasn't arrogantly blind to the people around her. Some were strangely beautiful, in such a way that Cora was sure they weren't from the kingdom of hearts. That made her angry.

She stormed over to one of the tables and grabbed a cup of punch (food or drink always seemed to calm her down better than most operations), slowly squeezing the plastic cup until the liquid began to overflow.

"Hey, stop that!" She didn't know whose voice it was, but it was definitely masculine. She saw a man, dressed in what she assumed to be rich men's clothing, head in her direction, watching her pour her drink on the floor. "That'll be a mess to clean up later!"

She stopped. Slamming the cup down on the table with such a force it threatened to tip, she turned to face her oncoming distraction.

"You really need to calm down," he told her. Saying nothing, she crossed her arms and huffed a huge sigh.

"How about a dance?" He offered her his hand which she gingerly took, still not knowing who he was.

And the night continued.

* * *

"The prince has found his suitor!" The guard announced at the end of the ball. He unrolled a script, which was unnecessarily long to only have just one name scribbled down on it. "Corazana Bardsley!"

A couple stepped onto the balcony, a woman with black hair, and a man with brown. The crowd muttered disappointed. All except one.

"No! My daughter, it should be me!"A guard grabbed Marie's wrist, and tugged her towards the exit.

"Me, you stupid prince, me!"

The last thing that could be heard of Maria Bardsley was her screaming a disclaimer for her child, the child that thought power would unveil her mother's eyes.

* * *

Yes, the queen of hearts remembers.

"Off with her head!"

So this took forever to write. Sorry, Skyizblue. Here is my entry! :) it's exactly 1500 word btw.