Chapter PROLOGUE
No queens are subservient.
Arrogance. That is what inaugurates it all. That is where all the subsequent events originate. The violence, bloodshed, death, carnage, and romance. Arrogant monarchs. Feuding, arrogant sovereigns. Maddened by the potency of their power.
Others would argue the plausibility of the land poisoning itself. The very wonder of its world, toxic. The world where all was upended in a whimsical insanity, lacking sensibility. The world where all was eccentric, where all possibilities exist, for nothing is impossible because the concept of such a word has never been introduced. Here is a nonsensical world where common sense is deemed mad. A world in which curiosity becomes curiouser, where forever is a second, where thoughts are strange and whirling vortexes, where mad queens reign because all of the populace is mad, therefore no one would want a sensical queen.
Here, is a world where the essence and governess of a queen was fused with the story and emotions of an entirely different persona. A queen who is cold, yet possesses warmth in her kindness; calm, yet possesses madness in her fury; strict, yet possesses leniency in her formality; and calculated.
No, this queen is not the Queen of Hearts. Think not about ‘off with your heads’, but rather recall a traditional, fundamental, game: chess. Think not about the popular misconception that the Queen of Hearts is but the only queen in the land of wonder. Think not about the implication of similarity, rather recall the distinction of difference. Who is the vindictive queen who has suffered the scourge of time that has obfuscated the truth? Such is a tale encouraging complacency and discouraging the fatal undermining of truth. Such is a story, not a self-congratulatory narrative, rather a narrative meant to avert confusion. To ensure remembrance.
Remembrance of who? Why, Remembrance of her. The sovereign of chess, the queen of a country different from the land of wonder, the rightful owner of the color scarlet: The Red Queen. The Red Queen is whom we must remember, whom we must differentiate from the Queen of Hearts. Such is a tale that will fracture the finality of misassociation. Such is an anecdote that will ensure that you will not forget the Red Queen. Indeed, you will forget her not.
