Woah jebus. How did I get the idea for this, you may be asking. Well, to put it simply, I always loved the Aku no Series by the Vocaloids (respectively, Rin and Len.) And I was thinking about writing the Aku no Series as two books (like, published and everything) and then I got all paranoid about copyrights and stuff. And then I thought, oh, if only the real world were like where you could slap on a disclaimer…

^^ These chapters are going to be extremely long, I'll have you know. Like, 3,500 words each. I'm surs. *nods* (That's how I say 'serious'. Surs. LOL) Now, before any of you Mattie fans out there get all flamey on me, I'll have you know that I think evil!Matthew would make a lovely Rin. XD (Isn't it fitting how Rin and Len are blonde and "twins" –I know they aren't really twins, but in the songs they are—and the same could be said for Alfred and Mattie?)

So, now, the characters and their vocaloid counterparts! Len = Alfred, Rin = Mattie, Miku = Arthur (you'll see why I chose him if you happen to look at the English lyrics for Servant of Evil), Meiko = Ivan, Kaito = Vash, Luka = Francis (yes, Luka appears in a video for one of the songs), and the "voice" from Re_Birthday = Lilli. ^^ So, now that that is done, shalt not we beginth?

(R&R and enjoy! The Aku no Series belongs to whoever made the songs, Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hide—however you spell it, and this story belongs to me!)

Daughter of Evil/Aku no Musume

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful kingdom—"

"Oh, that's boring. Why does everything have to be 'beautiful' and 'magnefique' and—"

Matthew scrunched up his nose. He'd never understand fairy tales.

"How would you prefer it then, Your Majesty?" Alfred, Prince Matthew's most prized servant, asked.

Matthew snickered. "You don't have to toss in the title, you know."

Alfred shrugged. Matthew had been telling him that for ages, since the two were obviously twins.

"Why can't it be…treacherous?"

"Once upon a time, there was a treacherous kingdom. And reigning at the top was a prince of nineteen." Alfred tried his best. If Matthew didn't like fairy tales so much, why was he always asking Alfred to make one up for him?

Matthew smiled, the smugness lurking in his eyes. Oh how wonderful it felt to hear his servant tell him a tale that made Matthew sound more magnificent.

As Alfred began spinning the tale, telling of how the castle the prince lived in was better than all the rest in the world and how no one could question the prince's power, there was quite a scuffle going on in the front-most doors of the castle.

"YOU HAVE TO, LIKE, LET US IN!" Feliks screeched, banging his fists on the armor of the guard.

"Feliks! Please, we can come back later!" Toris pleaded, staring nervously at the anger growing on the Spanish guard's face.

"Hell no!" Feliks yelled angrily, kicking at the palace doors. "It's, like, totally unfair how Prince Matthew," he said the name with obvious sarcasm, "knows that the kingdom is, like, falling poor. And what does he do? He totally raises the taxes!" Feliks began trying to punch the guard in the face.

Toris squeaked. It had to be against the law to talk like that when it came to the Prince. Couldn't Feliks save his complaints for when they got home (and away from anyone on the side of the Prince)?

Alfred paused in the midst of his words. He could've sworn he heard a—

There it was again, this time louder. Someone was banging on armor, or else a cooking pot.

Even the Prince heard the noise as the metallic clang echoed through the castle.

Matthew sighed in anger. "Not another one. I am sick and tired of all these complaints. Aren't you, Alfred?"

Alfred opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the Prince. "Of course you are. I suppose we should go check on the guard…"

Alfred obediently fell in place behind Matthew as he strode confidently through the palace. In just about five minutes, they were at the palace doors, the noises and shouts from outside legible now.

"All he does is, like, sit up on the throne like he's all high and mighty while us commoners are totally stuck scrounging for food—" Alfred faintly recognized the voice. He had probably heard the speaker while traveling with the Prince through the kingdom.

Alfred quickly opened the door for the Prince, who stepped forward, now standing next to the guard. "Oh, how nice of you to compliment me!" Matthew declared, grinning at the blonde.

Toris stared at the Prince in shock, and Feliks shut his mouth. Oh no. Oh hell no—

"Antonio?" Matthew asked, turning to the guard. The guard stared above the Prince's head. (No one was allowed to look him in the eye unless they happened to be a hand-servant or a cabinet minister.)

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Takes these two to the prison tower. Lock them up until I decide otherwise." (Read: Leave them there forever.) Antonio nodded and grabbed the two commoners, then left to go find said tower.

Toris burst into tears, while Feliks screamed in anger and tried to pry the guard's fingers off of his arm.

Alfred blinked. Now he remembered why he had recognized the voice. Because he had made friends with those two one time during a trip to the market.

Of course he had only gone to the market because the current chef was on trial for attempting to poison the Prince.

Alfred sighed and shut the doors behind him when the Prince had returned inside. Alfred didn't understand why everyone was so against Matthew. Sure, he could be extremely cruel and had a bad habit of sentencing people to death, but that shouldn't be considered too mean.

Alfred knew in his heart that if everyone would look hard enough, they'd be sure to find someone who was just as bad, and maybe worse.

Maybe then they'll leave my brother alone…

Matthew wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Stupid roses. Why the hell do you allow such disgusting things to grow, eh?" Matthew asked the gardener when he caught sight of the poor girl.

Lilli wondered where her brother was. Onee-san always knew how to properly talk to the Prince without getting sentenced to death.

Lilli trembled and stared at the Prince's feet, too scared to look anywhere else. "I-I-I didn't chose to plant them, Y-Your-Your Majest-sty."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. The girl's quivering was annoying. "And who chose to plant them, then?"

Lilli had no idea. She assumed it was probably a past gardener. "I-I don't kn-know."

Matthew hmphed, then turned to Antonio, who was told to follow the Prince in Alfred's absence.

"Antonio, take Lilli to the tower if you will."

Lilli gaped at him, suddenly forgetting proper etiquette and staring at him. "Wh-what?"

Matthew sneered. "You shouldn't lie to the prince, you know."

Lilli burst into tears and struggled in the Spaniard's grip, leaving Antonio with no choice but to scoop the girl up into his arms like an infant.

"Nee-san!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Matthew glared at Antonio's retreating figure and shook his head. "Children and their temper tantrums," he hissed to the cabinet minister.

Francis hesitantly nodded. He could remember quite easily Matthew's constant fits when he was a child, but he didn't dare bring it up. "As you were saying, Your Majesty?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," Matthew began, kicking at a rose. "I was wondering if you could possibly inform the guards that if anyone arrives at the palace doors without written permission that they are to immediately be taken into custody."

Francis nodded. "Because of this morning's interruption?"

"Oui," Matthew said absentmindedly. I wonder if I'd be met without protest if I questioned going to that one kingdom that Alfred went to…

Francis looked everywhere but at the Prince as he waited for him to speak. He wouldn't dare speak without being spoken to, not after seeing Matthew so ruthlessly sentence the young gardener to prison (and possibly death, now that he thought about it.)

"Oh, Francis?" Matthew finally asked.

"Oui?"

"Could I possibly visit the neighboring kingdom? Unattended?"

"I wouldn't think it particularly wise, Your Majest—"

"I wouldn't want to lose anymore servants, you know," Matthew said suddenly, an innocent look on his face as he looked up at the sky.

"I'll begin preparations, Your Majesty." And with that, Francis bowed.

Maybe then I'll find out why Alfred wants so much to go there monthly…

Alfred smiled lightly as the woman threw her arms around him. "Oh, Alfred! It's been forever, my son!" she wailed, clutching him tightly despite her weak appearance.

"Please let go, Mother. And it has only been two months."

"And how horrible those two months have been!" she sobbed.

While she sounded and appeared to be crying pathetically, Alfred knew his mother was only faking.

"Mother, I brought you supplies."

She squeaked and quickly pulled away. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"In length."

She grinned much similar to her older son (Matthew.)

As she took the food he brought her and packed it away in the cabinets, she sighed. "Oh, how I miss you when you're gone. I hear word of another execution, this time the chef, this time the guard, and I always wonder if somehow word changed, and really it was Matthew's—"

Alfred winced as he heard her say the name so bluntly. But he reminded himself that he was in another kingdom, and thus using the name lightly was allowed. "—hand servant, and I work myself into a panic."

"You should know better. Prince Matthew wouldn't dare kill me. He knows I'm the only one with the patience for him."

She nodded, then sighed and let her hands fall to her sides. "You know, I heard that Lord Arthur is looking for a new servant since his other one somehow managed to anger Matthew while in that kingdom."

Alfred frowned. "I'd much rather prefer to stay with His Majest—"

"You already have a week's worth of clothing packed," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "and I could go to the market and buy you some more. And you brought me a bag of gold—I noticed—and we could last off of that until you were approved."`

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Will you ever tell me why you were exiled?"

Her eyes began to stare at—no, through—the wall behind him. "Hmm, I do suppose you are old enough…"

She then focused on him. "You know how Matthew and you are twins?"

Alfred flinched. Another taboo subject. "Yes."

"And how Matthew is older than you by just a minute?"

Alfred relaxed, at least by a little. Matthew was fine with people bringing up his similarity in age. "Yes."

"Your father wasn't happy to have twins. He only wanted one son, and two daughters, so that he would be able to wade through suitors' gifts. He didn't want any children at all, but he needed an heir and wanted the profits of a daughter old enough to wed. And so he exiled me because of 'treason.' He hid the fact that you two were twins. And you know the rest."

He did. He remembered being raised by Francis even though he was only around fifteen when Alfred was born, and how when Alfred turned ten he began to serve Matthew. And on Matthew's thirteenth birthday, he poisoned their father and gained the throne.

A loud trumpet was blown, and Alfred's mother gasped. "That means that Lord Arthur is about to speak…!" She quickly wiped her hands on her apron, grabbed her son's arm, and dragged him outside.

Everyone crowded around him, but left a small bubble of space about twenty feet in diameter.

Alfred's mother had the smarts to dash to the near edge of that bubble and gestured with her head each person.

"The huge one is Lord Arthur's personal advisor, Ivan. He's some foreigner who showed up about five years ago." His mother whispered.

Alfred stared. Ivan was extremely tall, and underneath his dark green coat was at least four inches of muscle.

"And the other one, the blonde with bushy eyebrows and green hat, is Lord Arthur," she said even quieter, and Alfred had to strain his ears to hear her.

He laid eyes on Arthur and his heart quickened its pace. Alfred didn't look once at the fancy clothes the man wore, nor did he notice his small stature. He stared at Arthur's emerald irises, feeling as if he was going to fall into their clear depths.

Maybe I might take a shot at that hand servant position…

Matthew hid his face in his hood and listened attentively to what his neighbor, Arthur, had to say. He supposed he had plenty of time to look for Alfred later.

Arthur cleared his throat, and the entire town square filled with silence. "I'm afraid I have some bad news in relation to our neighbor, Prince Matthew's, kingdom."

Matthew raised an eyebrow and strained his ears. He was, after all, hiding in the shadows, away from everyone's sight.

"I believe all of you remember that about two months ago, Lilli Zwingli was accepted as Palace Gardener for Prince Matthew. Two days ago, she was sentenced to death."

There was a loud gasp from the audience, and Matthew smirked. He didn't care if she had only been, what, twelve? She had lied to him, and had deserved her death.

There was a loud pained wail, and Matthew's eyebrow twitched. He hadn't realized that Lilli's older brother lived in this kingdom.

Oh well.

Someone (that wasn't Vash, at least) declared that war should be called. Arthur shook his head. "While I would very, very much prefer to do that, we are not fully prepared for a war with our neighbor." As he began to rattle of reasons why such a thing would be insufficient, Matthew's eyes wandered around the audience. Maybe, just maybe, Alfred would be there, listening—

Ah, there he was! Matthew was slightly peeved that the man hadn't stood up for him, but Matthew could forgive Alfred this time. (He'd only get a small thump on the head with a textbook for it, of course, but that would heal quickly.)

Matthew was taken aback as he saw the look on his brother's face.

It was filled with emotions Matthew rarely saw in people close to him. Joy. Agreement. And, and, adoration.

Matthew felt a pang in his heart, and his hand drifted to his chest. What the hell had that been?

Matthew pouted and walked away, in the direction of his kingdom.

Well. If his Alfred was so pleased with the ersatz king, then he would leave him to his ogling.

When Matthew returned to his bedchambers, he tossed off the cloak and began pacing, watching his feet as he moved.

Well. Alfred had proved less loyal than Matthew had previously thought. Matthew knew he wouldn't, couldn't bring himself to execute, or even exile, his favorite servant. Not only was he faithful and calm, but he was also his own brother.

Sure, Matthew had it in his heart to kill his own father, but the man had always been rude to him, and had exiled Matthew and Alfred's mother. And Alfred was all Matthew had left…

Matthew felt another twinge of pain as he remembered Alfred's face. Was it possible that Alfred was head over heels for Arthu—

No! A voice in Matthew's head howled. There was no way, it was impossible, for his Alfred to be in love with Arthur. One, Arthur wasn't Matthew. Two, he was another man. Three, Alfred only just met him. Four, they lived much too far away from each other. And reason five? Because Matthew prohibited it. He knew that if he told Alfred that he was banned from seeing the lord that he would obey.

Matthews rhythm faltered as the name rolled in his mind.

Arthur.

It was his entire fault! Of course, why else would Alfred be so smitten? Arthur had probably used some sort of sorcery or witchcraft and cast a spell over the city, saying that anyone loyal to Matthew would switch sides.

And how do you reverse a curse? You kill the witch.

Matthew called the name loudly, but with less fierceness than usual.

"Oui, Your Majesty?" Francis asked, stepping into the room.

"…Destroy the country of green," Matthew whispered, the words flowing smoothly out of his mouth. Francis cocked his head, not hearing the Prince. He stepped closer.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. Could you possibly repeat—"

Matthew stepped to his bedside table and opened the top drawer. There it gleamed, a small blade. Its metal had been tapered to a sharp edge, and the hilt was rusted and worn from age.

He turned and tossed it to his cabinet minister, who clumsily caught it by the hilt. "I want you to kill our lovely neighbor, Lord Arthur."

Francis' eyes flickered, a look of defiance flashing through them. But he quickly suppressed it. You can do this one last act of sin, and then you will run away from this demon, Francis' mind informed him. He nodded, half to himself and half to the Prince.

"Oui, sir." He turned on his heel and left, tucking the knife into his belt.

As Matthew readied himself for bed, he couldn't help but think,

Maybe this will teach Alfred to stay loyal to his family…

Alfred frowned as he stepped foot in the palace. He couldn't explain it, but he felt like something was terribly, absolutely wrong, and that it was his entire fault.

He slowly strode through the halls, looking for a familiar face. But no one was to be found.

He stopped in front of the set of doors, the ones that led to the throne room.

Matthew's favorite room…

He gingerly slid them open and peeked inside.

Alfred felt a wave of relief as he saw his sibling, boredly swatting at a fly.

He lounged in the throne, not at all sitting in it properly. He sat with his lower back leaning against one armrest and his legs hanging over the side of the other. His crown (for Alfred would always know it as Matthew's and no one else's) lay lopsidedly on his head, tilting slightly where it came close to shielding his eye from Alfred's gaze.

Matthew refrained from shivering as he realized someone was looking at him, and he turned his head to look at the door. He grinned broadly as he saw his brother, who immediately glanced away, as if he had never been looking.

It was in that moment that he knew Arthur had been slayed—why else would his brother have returned so abnormally? Usually he would waltz right into the room, as if he had never been gone, and would report to Matthew that it was time for tea.

Matthew gestured for Alfred to step forward. "Come now, kneel down!" he called.

Alfred stepped until he was at his brother's feet, crouched onto one knee, and bowed his head.

Matthew gestured upward, formalities over. (Matthew couldn't explain why, but he had felt inclined to see the show of loyalty.) "Now, how was your trip, Alfred?"

"It was as average as always, Your Majesty. My mother inclined me to stay, but I faithfully turned her down. I could not leave my master without permission, Your Majesty." Alfred smiled slightly.

Matthew grinned wider. Somehow, the words just backed up the notion that his neighbor was no more.

"Oh? Next time you visit our neighboring kingdom," if it still exists because some fool failed to obey my orders, "please tell your mother I send my best wishes." If she's still alive.

Matthew frowned. He had completely forgotten that his mother would indeed be killed in the process of the destruction of the kingdom. He shrugged it off. If he could live without a father who hated him, he most certainly could live conveniently without a mother he didn't know.

Alfred was shocked by the words, but showed no sign. "I will, Your Majesty."

Matthew hmmed, quite unsure of what he wanted his brother to do to quench this ennui of his. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he was (so rudely) interrupted by someone clearing their throat from the doorway.

The twins turned their heads to see that Francis stood in the doorway, one hand in his pocket and the other behind his back.

Matthew paused. He would, on normal occasion, berate the man for interrupting when he was about to speak, but he knew there was only one reason the man would be there.

Matthew's lips spread into an ever-familiar grin. So I was correct. (Of course I never doubted it since I am always correct~)

"Oui, Francis?" Matthew asked sweetly.

Alfred blinked in surprise. His brother never let a reason to yell go by.

"I have what you asked for, Your Majesty," Francis timidly said. He was still unnerved by the job he had been sent on, and he was even more unsettled by the reaction he was most likely to see when he presented what the Prince had requested.

"Ah, so I assume you completed the task without problem?" Matthew asked. Oh how sweeter this moment would be since his Alfred would be here to see it!

"Oui," Francis stated hesitantly as he stepped up to the Prince. "I only needed a small portion of the Royal Guard's mass to destroy the entire kingdom."

Alfred's eyes widened. Oh no. They couldn't be talking about—

"Oh? And do I get any sign of proof, Francis?" Matthew questioned greedily. He wanted to see Alfred's reaction so much.

Francis paused, then slowly pulled a small, elegant box out of his pocket. He handed it to Matthew, and held both hands behind his back. "Now that those matters are taken care of, may I ever be excused, Your Majesty?"

Matthew trained his eyes on the box, never looking away, and quickly waved Francis away as he tinkered with it, trying to figure out how to open it.

Francis scurried out of the room at a pace slightly slower than running. He needed to be out of there, and fast, because he knew that Alfred's response would not be in the least bit—

Matthew made a noise of ecstacy as the top clicked open. He held it out ever so slightly, so that he knew Alfred could see.

Inside the box, in a plush lining of velvet, was an eyeball.

Alfred felt bile rise in his throat as he recognized the deep olive irises.

No. NO! he screamed in his head.

Matthew smiled coyly as he gauged his brother's response. He took the eye in his fingers and, with one last glance at his twin, Matthew popped it into his mouth and chewed, swallowing it semi-whole.

Francis wasn't fast enough. He still heard the stomach-churning sound of Alfred emptying his stomach onto the throne room floor.

Maybe now Alfred will see that his brother is truly insane…

Betty trembled as she sat. Ivan took off his coat and gingerly wrapped it around her.

No matter how close she sat to the flames, her skin was met with an icy chill.

Only a few hours after her son, Alfred, had left the kingdom, they had been ambushed by Matthew's Royal Guard.

Many lives were lost. Homes were reduced to ash, innocent people were killed—and while no one blamed her, Betty knew it was her eldest son's doing.

And she had no idea wheter her youngest had survived the trip home.

She had long since cried her eyes out. While her world was now filled with suffering, she couldn't help but feel drained of the energy to cry.

Ivan stood protectively by her side. She had been the one to be filled with the most despair, and he couldn't help but feel the need to protect her. (Even though he rarely ever felt any emotion for anyone.)

She looked at the faces around her. Out of all the survivors from the horrible attack, she was in the top four of most hurt.

Number one would be Ivan. Not only had he lost his sisters, two of the few people who trusted him, but he hadn't even been able to save Arthur.

Number two would be Vash, since he had already lost his sister but now the rest of his family. And everyone knew that as soon as the depression passed over, he would be filled with an angry rage and would hurt anyone who dared try to console him.

Number three was herself. She couldn't help but feel at fault, since it was her son who had caused such grief. She knew that it was wrong, but she hated her son. She hated him. She wished with all her heart that he had never been born.

And last was Arthur. He was stuck in a state of absolute confusion, with hints of pain and desperation. He couldn't think of a single reason that he could be hated so fiercely by Matthew. But apparently it was enough for him to send his cabinet minister to attack him. After banging his head around, Francis stabbed his eye out. And then apologized. The bloody fucker had some nerve, Arthur had to give him that. In Francis' panicked attempt to explain the entire situation, Arthur blacked out.

He could practically feel his people's pain. He could count on one hand how many average citizens had survived.

However, it would take more than twenty people's hands and toes to count the casualties. He hadn't wanted to let Ivan bandage his head (to conceal the grotesque picture that was his eye) as they rode in a wagon (driven by Betty) to gather up the survivors.

He clenched and unclenched his knuckles as he looked at them all. Slowly, he stood up.

Ivan immediately directed his attention to Arthur, and he strode towards the weakened man. "Nyet…!"

Arthur batted his hand away. "I can manage, thank you."

Ivan sucked in a deep breath, but nodded slowly.

He directed his attention to the small group around him. "We all know that Matthew, the prince and ruler of the neighboring kingdom, is to blame."

Vash let out another choking sob, and Betty's motherly instincts kicked in as she crawled towards him and wrapped her arms around him.

"I will not lie to you all and tell you that I will take him down."

Betty whispered, "that would be called a miracle" and began to gently sway the crying wreck of a teenager in her arms.

"But I do, however—" he stopped speaking as he winced and clutched his throbbing head. After his body naturally numbed the paining area, he began again. "I do have a plan to try my very best."

Ivan narrowed his eyes. Arthur was in no state to try some far-fetched attempt to attack the—

"It was well known that even the people in his own kingdom hate Matthew. Even his cabinet minister holds loath for the boy. If we can somehow rile an army just barely big enough to outnumber the royal guard, we can easily bring his reign to an end." He paused and swatted at a loose strand of bandage that hung in front his good eye. "Half of the guards would immediately give up—who else wouldn't if such a mass protest were to be formed? All of the servants would flee, and all we'd have to do is search the castle until we found the bloody prince." He spat the last word out.

Betty blinked. She knew that "all" wouldn't exactly fittingly describe the servants that would flee. She knew deep in her heart that Alfred wouldn't leave his brother.

"How are we to know that Matthew wouldn't flee as well?" Ivan asked.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Betty. "Because he is too stubborn."

Everyone stared at her. How could she possibly know this for a fact, when word of Matthew rarely reached the town?

"And how are we to know this?" Arthur asked, although he had a pretty good idea. He had, after all, met Betty's other son a few times over the last week, first and foremost because of the boy's interest in being his servant, and secondly because he was rather fond of him.

"My…my youngest son is Matthew's personal servant—" now, Arthur hadn't known that little fact, "and he brings me detailed descriptions of Matthew's behavior."

Arthur nodded. "So now we have someone in the inside who most certainly will—"

"Alfred isn't going to leave."

Everyone let out a breath. So that was why she was beating herself down so much. She had an evil son who was the cause of all their problems, and her other, more sane son was too loyal to his family to see the full image that was his brother's cruelty.

"He would have to be..." She drew a shaky breath and started over. "He would have to not exist to not protect his brother."

"Are you absolutely sure?" a man, a Royal Guard that had cut roughly in the leg and left to die by the other soldiers, asked. "Maybe this entire incident has changed his mind…"

Betty shook her head. "He tells me, almost every single visit, that he wishes people would stop hating his brother so much. Is that proof enough of his loyalty?"

Arthur shook his head. This would complicate things.

"Well, everyone, I suggest you all get some sleep. Tomorrow, despite the obstacles, we are going to try and bring Matthew down."

As the silence slowly filled the area, Betty couldn't help but think, while she absentmindedly messed with Vash's hair.

Maybe Alfred will see the error in his loyalties…

Matthew was growing more and more silent as the days passed.

Alfred hoped in his heart that he was having some sort of epiphany. Maybe the fact that he had only one servant left and the castle was surrounded by angry commoners was finally showing Matthew the error of his ways.

Matthew heard the church bell chime, and turned to Alfred. "Oh, it's time for snack."

Alfred slowly nodded. He knew that the people were going to attack any day now, and he didn't dare want to leave his brother's side.

He turned to Matthew. "If you need any help, simply yell."

Matthew rolled his eyes and shooed the man away. "I'm hungry. And this time, make something that tastes good!"

Alfred sighed and hesitantly left the room.

Matthew sighed in relief as soon as he couldn't hear his brother's footsteps anymore. Matthew somehow felt it in the pit of his stomach that they would attack today, and around this time. It was the very least he could do for his brother to get him out of the way of the fighting.

Matthew felt a weird happiness fill him. If helping others would make him feel like this, he doesn't want to do it anymore.

Sure enough, around the time that Alfred would be in the kitchen (the farthest room from the throne room), an extremely large group of people filled into the room. He grinned cheerfully at them. "I've been expecting your attack. What ever took you so long?"

His grin faltered as he saw Arthur. He ground his teeth. So Francis had betrayed him after all. He had expected that something like that would happen.

When several swords were pointed at his neck, a woman stepped forward and began tying his hands behind his back.

Matthew's eyes widened as he realized she was his mother. "If it isn't the mother who abandoned her sons."

She glared at him and, after tying the knot tightly slapped him across the face.

He bared his teeth at her. "You insolent person!"

"Maybe that will teach you to be so rude," she hissed.

"Once upon a time, there was a treacherous kingdom. And reigning at the top was a prince of nineteen," Matthew whispered to himself.

As the church tower chimed two-thirty, Matthew ground his teeth. He had only thirty minutes left until his execution, and he could feel that his head was about to brim over with insanity.

Just before the chimes stopped, a cloaked figure slid into the prison cell. Matthew dimly wondered if it was real or just his mind playing tricks on him.

Maybe I was insane all along…

Everyone happily cheered when they saw the Prince being lead to his death. Yet he didn't once look at the populace.

When he was finally situated in the guillotine, Arthur asked loudly if Matthew had anything to say.

The Prince pursed his lips and, hearing the church chimes begin to strike the time (Three o'clock) he grinned, eyes resting on the cloaked figure near the back of the crowd.

"Oh, it's time for snack."

The end.

This was SOOOOOO fun to write! I swear!

Oh, Jesus. I was so excited and so disgusted when I got the idea for the eyeball scene. *shudders* I can't believe I actually wrote it. But there is definitely a comedic reason for that! (And not in a gruesome way). *nods* It'll just be shown in the last chapter.

Yeah…Did anyone notice that before each line break (except the very last one) there was something along the lines of "maybe_"? All of them were thoughts, except for the one where Betty is tying Mattie up.

Oh! All of you might be wondering why Betty is named as such. *grins* I generally think of Betty Crocker when thinking of pancakes. *laughs* And if I were to name their father (which might be used in the next three chapters) I would name him either Ronald (Ronald McDonald) or Sanders. (Colonel Sanders from KFC.) But I'm most likely going to stick with The King. (Burger King) XDDD

Oh. My. Jesus. On a cracker. Have you all seen the length of this thing? It's 5,802 words long! :O

Well, hope you enjoyed reading this mess~ (I recommend watching the video for Daughter of Evil, preferably with subtitles. My translation was slightly off, which is why the story may seem slightly different.) Review, because it will make me more determined to write the next chapter!

P.S. Is it shocking that this chapter only took me three days to write? _