Queen's Fall (An Alice in Wonderland Retelling)

By Majanka Verstraete

Long before there was a Queen of Hearts, there was a girl, who dreamt of a better Wonderland.

Mother thinks I would make a better Queen of Wonderland than my cousin Celia. After all, if not for some outdated rules declaring that a male heir takes precedence over a female one, it would be my mother on the throne instead of my uncle.

Celia is naive, self-absorbed and egocentric. She ruined my relationship with the one man I ever truly loved, and I have my doubts she would make a good Queen, but sometimes she's not that bad. Sometimes, we're almost friends.

Now the White Prince, Caspian, has come to visit our court, bound to be betrothed to my cousin, Mother has charged me with the task of winning him over. Make him forget all about my golden-haired cousin and instead have him marry me. But Prince Caspian and his younger brother, mysterious and daring Malachi, bring news that could upset Mother's plans: a dark force is turning the citizens of Wonderland into playing cards, and the army of cards is invading our lands.

I wouldn't be a good Queen-to-be if I didn't try to save Wonderland from this threat. I have to figure out who all the pieces on the chessboard are and what role they play.

But maybe, like the Cheshire Cat said, I'm playing a game of chess while I should be playing cards...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Whimsical Press
• Release date: Aug 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781386300311

Majanka Verstraete

Author Majanka Verstraete has written more than twenty unique works of fiction. A native of Belgium, Majanka’s novels explore the true nature of monsters: the good, the bad, and just about every species in between. Her young adult books include the acclaimed Mirrorland (YA Dark Fantasy) and Angel of Death (YA Paranormal) series of novels. At Firefly Hill Press, Majanka is currently publishing a YA shifter series with a fresh take on fierce female detectives called THE ADVENTURES OF MARISOL HOLMES. When she’s not writing, Majanka is probably playing World of Warcraft or catching up with the dozens of TV series she’s addicted to.

Book preview

Long before there was a Queen of Hearts,

There was a girl, who dreamt of a better Wonderland.

Chapter One

Celia turned her head sideways, glancing at her reflection in the mirror for the millionth time that morning.

Are you sure about these earrings? she asked me, as she tucked her golden hair behind her ear to inspect the jewels in more detail. They don’t sparkle very much.

I leaned closer toward her, so my face was next to hers. "You want you to sparkle, Celia, not those earrings."  

Hm. She titled her head further to the left, narrowing her eyes.

I kept a smile glued on my face the entire time, but inside, I was raging. Four hours she had been sitting in front of this mirror, trying to decide whether she looked good enough in this dress or that dress, using this color of eyeshadow or that color, all for a prince from a far-away country who was bound to marry her anyway.

Glancing at our reflections in the mirror, my cousin and I couldn’t be more different. She was the fair princess of fairytales: long, wavy blonde hair, light blue eyes, a heart-shaped face, all innocence and beauty. It was an excellent disguise for the monster she really was within. I, on the other hand, was like a dark replica of her light. Black hair reaching my waist, green eyes, a slightly round face.

All right. Celia clapped her hands, disrupting my thoughts. Do I need anything else? She turned to me, looking to me for guidance, as always.

Even though she was one year older than me, and even though she was the crown princess and I was merely a lady-in-waiting, she always looked to me for advice.

You look perfect. I smiled at her, even though it sickened me to my core to have to do so. Pretend to be her friend. Pretend to care about her, and most importantly, pretend not to hate her. It drained my energy at alarming levels.

You think so? Celia got up from her chair, spinning around. Her gown was dazzling, encrusted with jewels, a light blue color accentuating her fair skin, and a bodice so tight she could barely breathe.

Yes, I said reluctantly. You go on ahead to the hallway now, I’ll go get ready.

Celia raised an eyebrow at me, looking at me from head to toe. You look fine. I really want you there with me, she whined. I don’t want to go through this alone.

I stared at her, balling my hands into fists and trying incredibly hard to keep a straight face. Hours. Hours had she sat here, in front of the mirror, nagging about every little blemish on her face, every curl that was out of place. Now, I asked for five minutes to get changed and looked presentable, and she wouldn’t even grant me that.

I had been patient, for the first hour-or-so, and I had tried hard to be kind to her, even if she was being ridiculous in how obsessed she was with looking perfect, but now it took me all my willpower not to snap at her.

I won’t be long, I’ll just change into something else to look presentable for our guests, I said through gritted teeth.

Celia pouted her lips, which she always did when something didn’t go exactly as she had planned. "I don’t know what the point is, you’re not about to meet your soon-to-be fiancé."

I bit my lip, trying to stay calm. Celia... I used the same tone I always did whenever she was being unreasonable –which was on average at least twice a day.

Fine. Go on then. Celia slumped her shoulders, looking like a discarded toy upset about being tossed to the side. She might be the future queen of Wonderland, but she was also the biggest drama queen in the whole of Wonderland.

All right. I’ll see you in the dining hall then, I said.

She kept on pouting and rolled her eyes at me, every bit the petulant child, but I purposely ignored her and walked out of her chambers.

The palace, for everyone who was not used to its meandering hallways and hidden staircases, was a veritable labyrinth. But for me, I already knew it like the back of my hand, the blueprint forever edged into my skull. I had lived here all my life. My mother was the sister of the King, and after my father passed away, my uncle had asked Mother and I to return to the palace and live her.

Mother hated it, but I loved the palace. The hallways were lined with glass on one side, light streaming into the corridors and reflecting off the marble tiles on the floor. Every room, from the King’s chambers high above to the dining hall below, oozed a luxury that couldn’t be found anywhere else in Wonderland. It was sumptuous, grand, and of course the ideal breeding ground for demon spawn like Celia.

As I raced back to my room, nearly tripping into one of the servants when I rounded the corner, I pictured myself grabbing the large mirror from Celia’s room and smashing her in the head with it. Even the thought alone put a smile to my face.

Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t naturally inclined to hate people. There was no one in the entirety of Wonderland who I hated as much as I hated my cousin.

I opened up the door to my chambers, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest when I looked straight at my mother, sitting at my dressing table, looking so grumpy I wouldn’t be surprised if a stormy cloud appeared above her head, gushing rain.

Mother, I said, raising my hand to my chest. You startled me.

The guests will arrive in fifteen minutes, Regina, she said. She only ever used my name when she wasn’t happy with me. Why aren’t you dressed yet? She gestured for me to sit down, and before I could object, she grabbed a brush to comb my hair.

Celia kept me occupied, I protested.

Mother rolled her eyes. That self-absorbed cretin. She took a brooch from my collection and skillfully pinned my hair to my skull, a lot faster than I could’ve ever done myself. Let me guess, she spent hours and hours gushing about what to wear, barely leaving you with ten minutes to get yourself ready.

You’re not wrong. Strangely enough, no matter how much I loathed Celia at times, it didn’t feel right to talk to my mother about it. Because whereas my dislike for Celia sprung from how self-absorbed and annoying she was sometimes, my mother’s dislike for her ran much deeper, and was much more dangerous.

She already has first claim on the crown. The White Prince will join us tonight as her betrothed. She’d have to be a complete idiot to screw up that engagement. Mother grabbed my chin rather roughly and lifted up my face. This is your chance, Regina. Your one chance.

I swallowed hard, while Mother applied some make-up on my face. My heart hammered in my chest.

Mother... I protested. Do you think this is a good idea?

Mother’s eyes turned dark, and her lips became a thin line. I knew I had said too much, that my protests would fall on deaf ears.

This is our birth right, Regina, Mother said, venom slipping in her voice. I won’t let them take it away from us, not again.

Mother and I almost looked like twins, that was how alike we were, same hair color, same face, everything, except of course she was older than me. Older, and crueler, poisoned by a hatred I hoped I would never understand.

What if he doesn’t like me? I asked her, my voice small. What if he prefers her?

He won’t, Mother reassured me. You won’t let him. You’re not going to lose from that dimwitted spoiled brat. Not again.

My hands trembled while Mother helped me in my dress, a low-cut, burgundy red gown with an open back that was not as richly decorated as Celia’s, but that was still one of the prettiest gowns I had ever owned. Being the niece of his Majesty the King meant that we didn’t lack anything in the monetary department, but all of it was due to the grace of my uncle, and what he could give, he could just as easily take away.

Mother never wasted an opportunity to tell me about that, about how precarious our situation was, and about how easy it would be for the King to decide we would have to leave court.

Which was why the thought of what she had planned made me sick to the stomach, and why I didn’t understand why she wanted to go ahead with this plan in the first place.

It was like playing a game of chess, she had explained to me the last time I had questioned her about the topic. You win some, you lose some.

Except if we lost, it wouldn’t be just a game of chess. It could mean losing our fortune, our reputation, our place at court.

And, if the King was in a foul mood, it could also mean losing our heads.

Involuntarily, I glanced out