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Description
The rough, rocky ground had long since devoured the ornate shoes, leaving the feet to blister and tear in their endless journey. Clothing, tattered and covered in briars and the muck of the world, wrapped haphazardly on her feet, over the cuts and festering sores. Her hair, once painstakingly placed atop her large head, now dangling about her face and shoulders looking very much like a blood soaked mop.

No. She looked nothing like the queen she once was. The pretty things she adorned herself with destroyed, now there was no part of her that was beautiful. She was once again "Massy Iracey" the name from her youth echoed in her head. The tumor that grew in her skull was to blame. Every problem in her life could be traced back to the infernal thing.

It had been many, many years ago; exactly how many she didn't know, time being the fickle thing he is; back when she and her sister were both still little girls. Two girls in pink dress ran around the corner laughing as they raced to the room filled with their playthings. The cared walls of Salazen Grum amplifying, the patting of their feet as their laughter reverberated down the halls.

"Come on, Iracey! Or else I'll get their first!" Mirana chimed behind her. Even as a child the younger princess floated across the floor, making her already jaunty gait look even more awkward and heavy.

"I'm coming! I'm going to get there first!" She laughed happily with her sister as they raced.

Mirana had beaten her there; but, like the good sister she was, she stood in front of the door waiting. Her pale hand outstretched to her older sister, a warm smile on her lips. Fingers entwined they opened the large oak doors to reveal the playroom filled with every toy imaginable and their mother placing new additions around the room. One in particular caught the girls' attention as it was placed up on a shelf. A perfect porcelain doll with golden curls cascading down its back. The girls' grins grew giddier at the sight. The beautiful queen turned to her children.

"Good morning, girls. Where is Kalinia?" Her gaze looked to the doors expecting the nursery maid to soon come through the doors as well. Iracebeth stilled knowing exactly where Kalinia was.

Mirana, however, smiled, "She was busy entertaining us and became so tired that she couldn't stand it. So we told her that she could take a nap while we play in here, Mother." That smile was a gift, it gave them everything they wanted. No questions asked.

"Oh." the queen replied, standing up from where she had been kneeling to look at her daughters. "I see. Well, I suppose I shall call for Saldis to watch you until Kalinia wakes then." Iracebeth's nose crinkled, Kalinia was easier to manipulate than the older seamstress turned babysitter. Being a part of a large clan had given her a gift for dealing with younger children and their whims. However, where she failed to convince Saldis that the cider was not laced with pishsalver, her sister excelled. They had quite the collection of little people in their dollhouses, even if their fun was often spoiled when their mother found out and they would have to make the upelkuchen to fix them all. Not a fun task as the heat from the ovens made her larger than average forehead bead with sweat. But the Doctors said that if she stayed healthy and didn't overexert herself the swelling would go down.

"She's very pretty, Mother." The ivory haired girl broke her thought process, redirecting her gaze to the doll up on the top shelf. The brown glass eyes looked straight ahead to the other side of the room with her small upturned lips. Oh how she wished that she could call it her own.

Gingerly, the heir to her mother's crown allowed her fingers to lovingly trace the designs on the satin dress."Yes she is."

Her eyes shot up realizing something very important. Something that might make this day one of the best of days. "Is she for me? It is my unbirthday you know."

Mirana chimed in, obviously wanting the doll as well, her voice taking an almost pouty quality. "But it's my unbirthday too, Iracey." She was too young to see the change in her mother's face. The slight fall in her features.

"She belongs to both of you. You'll have to share." Her mother's soft musical voice, something Iracebeth didn't inherit, responded.

"But we share all of our other toys. Why can't I have this one all to myself? I'll treat her very well." the eldest began to formulate her argument for the prize. Rarely did she and her sister go against each other, but when she did it never ended well.

Mirana clasped the others hands in her own, although only a year separated their ages, she didn't act it very often. "Iracey, please. Why must you have the doll? She's so pretty." The dark eyes looked up to the doll and finally to their mother, with the soft doe eyes going into the tell tale ploy. "And Iracey has so many dolls far prettier than that one. Please, Mother? Can she belong to me?" Silently she floated to her mother's side and smiled ever so innocently.

That smile. That beautiful smile that she had envied for so long was now turned against her. The queen looked at both of her daughters in turn, conflict beginning to etch on her flawless face. She stood and retrieved the doll from the shelf. All eyes locked on the precious thing as it hovered in front of them as if choosing which girl it would belong to. The ivory or the crimson. Time was playing games again, she was certain of that since the world seemed to stop in a torturous crawl.

A familiar sensation stung behind her eyes. The doll was nestled in her sister's arms, her blonde curls being caressed by the fingers that were once entwined with her own. A gentle sad smile greeted her when her damp eyes opened, her mother, the traitor, knelt before her and whispered as comfortingly as she possibly could. "It's alright, Iracebeth. Remember, you will get to be the queen one day, and your sister won't get to rule. You will learn this is for the best. There will be other dolls with blonde curls for you to play with." The girl snapped her head to look away from them both, trying to control the rage that was boiling in her core. The crimson curls hiding, the matching glow of red on her face. She didn't even look when her mother went to embrace the other and left without another word to her.

Yes, the smile that got whatever it wanted. A cruel grin began to creep across her face. She would be queen one day, and queens had to determine how to punish people when they were naughty. "Mirana… Would you like to play a game?" Her sister smiled brightly in return, as if she hadn't just stolen the precious toy in her arm and if she couldn't have it, then neither should her sister.

"Oh, yes. What shall we play?"

"Let's play Trial. I'll be the judge and you can be the lawyer, and dolly can be on trail."

Mirana, ever so trusting, smiled. "Alright. What did Dolly do?" setting it upon the chair, not noticing Iracebeth's fists clenched behind her.

"Well, she stole the tarts from the tea party. The punishment for this…" she picked up the doll and caressed the soft curls. "…is beheading."

The castle was soon filled with Mirana's cries as she held what was left of her new gift in her lap, while the red princess was crumpled in the garden, tears streaming down her own face.

Description
The rough, rocky ground had long since devoured the ornate shoes, leaving the feet to blister and tear in their endless journey. Clothing, tattered and covered in briars and the muck of the world, wrapped haphazardly on her feet, over the cuts and festering sores. Her hair, once painstakingly placed atop her large head, now dangling about her face and shoulders looking very much like a blood soaked mop.

No. She looked nothing like the queen she once was. The pretty things she adorned herself with destroyed, now there was no part of her that was beautiful. She was once again "Massy Iracey" the name from her youth echoed in her head. The tumor that grew in her skull was to blame. Every problem in her life could be traced back to the infernal thing.

It had been many, many years ago; exactly how many she didn't know, time being the fickle thing he is; back when she and her sister were both still little girls. Two girls in pink dress ran around the corner laughing as they raced to the room filled with their playthings. The cared walls of Salazen Grum amplifying, the patting of their feet as their laughter reverberated down the halls.

"Come on, Iracey! Or else I'll get their first!" Mirana chimed behind her. Even as a child the younger princess floated across the floor, making her already jaunty gait look even more awkward and heavy.

"I'm coming! I'm going to get there first!" She laughed happily with her sister as they raced.

Mirana had beaten her there; but, like the good sister she was, she stood in front of the door waiting. Her pale hand outstretched to her older sister, a warm smile on her lips. Fingers entwined they opened the large oak doors to reveal the playroom filled with every toy imaginable and their mother placing new additions around the room. One in particular caught the girls' attention as it was placed up on a shelf. A perfect porcelain doll with golden curls cascading down its back. The girls' grins grew giddier at the sight. The beautiful queen turned to her children.

"Good morning, girls. Where is Kalinia?" Her gaze looked to the doors expecting the nursery maid to soon come through the doors as well. Iracebeth stilled knowing exactly where Kalinia was.

Mirana, however, smiled, "She was busy entertaining us and became so tired that she couldn't stand it. So we told her that she could take a nap while we play in here, Mother." That smile was a gift, it gave them everything they wanted. No questions asked.

"Oh." the queen replied, standing up from where she had been kneeling to look at her daughters. "I see. Well, I suppose I shall call for Saldis to watch you until Kalinia wakes then." Iracebeth's nose crinkled, Kalinia was easier to manipulate than the older seamstress turned babysitter. Being a part of a large clan had given her a gift for dealing with younger children and their whims. However, where she failed to convince Saldis that the cider was not laced with pishsalver, her sister excelled. They had quite the collection of little people in their dollhouses, even if their fun was often spoiled when their mother found out and they would have to make the upelkuchen to fix them all. Not a fun task as the heat from the ovens made her larger than average forehead bead with sweat. But the Doctors said that if she stayed healthy and didn't overexert herself the swelling would go down.

"She's very pretty, Mother." The ivory haired girl broke her thought process, redirecting her gaze to the doll up on the top shelf. The brown glass eyes looked straight ahead to the other side of the room with her small upturned lips. Oh how she wished that she could call it her own.

Gingerly, the heir to her mother's crown allowed her fingers to lovingly trace the designs on the satin dress."Yes she is."

Her eyes shot up realizing something very important. Something that might make this day one of the best of days. "Is she for me? It is my unbirthday you know."

Mirana chimed in, obviously wanting the doll as well, her voice taking an almost pouty quality. "But it's my unbirthday too, Iracey." She was too young to see the change in her mother's face. The slight fall in her features.

"She belongs to both of you. You'll have to share." Her mother's soft musical voice, something Iracebeth didn't inherit, responded.

"But we share all of our other toys. Why can't I have this one all to myself? I'll treat her very well." the eldest began to formulate her argument for the prize. Rarely did she and her sister go against each other, but when she did it never ended well.

Mirana clasped the others hands in her own, although only a year separated their ages, she didn't act it very often. "Iracey, please. Why must you have the doll? She's so pretty." The dark eyes looked up to the doll and finally to their mother, with the soft doe eyes going into the tell tale ploy. "And Iracey has so many dolls far prettier than that one. Please, Mother? Can she belong to me?" Silently she floated to her mother's side and smiled ever so innocently.

That smile. That beautiful smile that she had envied for so long was now turned against her. The queen looked at both of her daughters in turn, conflict beginning to etch on her flawless face. She stood and retrieved the doll from the shelf. All eyes locked on the precious thing as it hovered in front of them as if choosing which girl it would belong to. The ivory or the crimson. Time was playing games again, she was certain of that since the world seemed to stop in a torturous crawl.

A familiar sensation stung behind her eyes. The doll was nestled in her sister's arms, her blonde curls being caressed by the fingers that were once entwined with her own. A gentle sad smile greeted her when her damp eyes opened, her mother, the traitor, knelt before her and whispered as comfortingly as she possibly could. "It's alright, Iracebeth. Remember, you will get to be the queen one day, and your sister won't get to rule. You will learn this is for the best. There will be other dolls with blonde curls for you to play with." The girl snapped her head to look away from them both, trying to control the rage that was boiling in her core. The crimson curls hiding, the matching glow of red on her face. She didn't even look when her mother went to embrace the other and left without another word to her.

Yes, the smile that got whatever it wanted. A cruel grin began to creep across her face. She would be queen one day, and queens had to determine how to punish people when they were naughty. "Mirana… Would you like to play a game?" Her sister smiled brightly in return, as if she hadn't just stolen the precious toy in her arm and if she couldn't have it, then neither should her sister.

"Oh, yes. What shall we play?"

"Let's play Trial. I'll be the judge and you can be the lawyer, and dolly can be on trail."

Mirana, ever so trusting, smiled. "Alright. What did Dolly do?" setting it upon the chair, not noticing Iracebeth's fists clenched behind her.

"Well, she stole the tarts from the tea party. The punishment for this…" she picked up the doll and caressed the soft curls. "…is beheading."

The castle was soon filled with Mirana's cries as she held what was left of her new gift in her lap, while the red princess was crumpled in the garden, tears streaming down her own face.