The Queen made her way down to the great hall. She had come to love this room for the very things that caused her discomfort about it when she had first arrived—it was cavernous and commanding. She felt like a queen here, and it pleased her to sit regally on the throne while the arched stained-glass windows cast a lovely blue light in the chamber. Snow was sitting to the right of the head of the table looking pure, innocent, and beautiful.
The Queen made her way to her seat and stood staring at Snow, who was already seated. She gave the girl a look and nodded to motion that Snow should stand to greet her mother.
Snow hesitated, and then stood, “Good morning, Mother.”
“Good morning, Snow.”
The Queen took her seat and motioned for Snow to do the same.
“So I hear you would prefer to break your fast in the morning room?” she said.
“Yes, I thought it might make for a nice change; this room is so large just for the two of us. I remember when I was a little girl we would have family meals in the smaller dining hall or in the morning r—”
“Enough!” the Queen snapped.
But inwardly, the Queen recalled how happy those days were. She couldn’t bring herself to dine in those rooms now. It hurt her too much without her husband. And Snow, all grown up—the innocent girl becoming a beautiful woman. The Queen looked up at the stone beauty above the mantel. She looked stern and disapproving, as if she were reading the Queen’s thoughts.
“I prefer this room, Snow. We have gone over this before. If you’d like to take your meals in the morning room then by all means do so; it matters not to me where you break your fast. But I will not be joining you.”
Snow looked disappointed. “I would never see you at all if we took breakfast in different rooms,” she said.
“Indeed.”
Snow just shook her head.
“I am growing weary of your attitude, Snow White. I won’t have you casting such looks at me. I said you could take your meals in any room you desire. What more do you want from me?”
Snow White looked at her mother with sad eyes.
“Nothing, Mother. Never mind.”
“Very well then, there is something I’ve wanted to mention for some while now, I think it is time you take on responsibility. You have no skills to speak of, and as you don’t seem to have any suitors we cannot assume you will be married.”
Snow looked confounded.
“I’ve told Tilley to provide you with some working clothes so you may help her with some of the chores around the castle. I think it will do you some good.”
“I don’t mind helping Tilley. I often do anyway,” Snow said.
The Queen went on, “But I won’t have you ruining your nice clothes. You should wear something more appropriate to the tasks at hand.”
“Of course, Mother.”
“Go to Tilley, and she will dress you in rag wear. That will be suitable for the kind of work we’ll expect of you.”
Snow stood up and left the great hall in a hurry.
The Queen heaved a deep breath. She thought back to herself at the brink of womanhood, and of something Nanny had told her then:
Do not believe your father’s lies, my little girl. He doesn’t see you as you are and I fear for your soul should you ever let his darkness linger in your heart. You are beautiful, my dear, truly. Don’t ever forget that, even if I am not here to remind you.
She had always been beautiful and now her father, whose spirit was captured within the mirror, was bound to tell the truth. The Queen felt an immense power in that. She got up from the table, went through the arched doorway, then proceeded down the hall and stopped at the tapestry with the image of a large apple blossom tree filled with blackbirds. She remembered the story she had told Snow so many years ago about the woman who could turn into a dragon. She now felt much like that woman, isolated and alone, so different from anyone she knew. She moved the tapestry to the side and revealed a passageway leading to the dungeon.
As the Queen made her way down the stairs, she dragged her hand across the stone walls. They felt cold and hard to her touch, and she liked that. She opened the windows to give the room some air and saw a large black crow sitting on the ledge.
She had not been spending as much time in the dungeon as she had when she first discovered the books and potions, when it was all new. But she still spent many of her late afternoons and evenings there. Over time, she had become more familiar with the sisters’ books and the spells inside. Many of them kept her looking young and fair. But she’d recently been experimenting with some other kinds of spells. She had beauty and power. But she wanted more.
The books and spells had been intimidating, and alien when she first dabbled in them. But now their dusty leather covers, some embossed with silver death’s-heads, others clearly marked for which aspect of magic was detailed within, looked less sinister and more beautiful.
She recalled how clumsy her first spells were. Now, the books were as familiar as old friends.
“Striking blackbirds that searched the skies, bringing her news from the outside world,” the Queen said, recalling the story she told Snow that rainy evening so long ago.
A crow hopped in the window as if summoned and looked at her with its yellow eyes. She decided to let him stay and keep her company while she read the sisters’ books.
Then, a voice called out to her from above.
“Excuse me? My Queen, are you down here? It’s quite urgent!”
The Queen was angry at herself for ever telling Tilley where she was spending her afternoons. True, the chamber she was in was remote, but that did not mean that a nosy visitor wouldn’t stumble upon her laboratory. She would immediately have one of the workmen install a sturdier door with a stronger bolt to seal off the dungeon chamber.
“Yes, Tilley, I will be right up.”
The Queen patted the crow on its head and then ascended the stairs to see what the fuss was all about.
Tilley looked unusually distressed.
“What is it, then?” the Queen asked.
Tilley just stood, shaking, unable to speak.
“Come out with it, girl!”
The servant finally found her voice. “It’s Snow White, she was helping me fetch water from the well and somehow she…she…toppled over the edge!”
The Queen rushed out of the room and into the courtyard where she found Snow laying on the ground, soaked and unconscious. A distressed young man, the same one the Queen had seen riding on the grounds, was bending over her body. Now that she saw him up close she recognized him as a young prince from a neighboring land.
The Queen turned her attention to her daughter’s limp form, and her heart stopped. Her mother, her husband, and now her daughter—dead. The Queen was paralyzed with fear and grief. And then Snow began to cough. Water spilled from her ruby red lips, and she blinked open her eyes.
“Thank the gods!” the Queen said, clutching her hands to her chest and embracing the girl.
The Prince looked utterly relieved. He placed his hand on her cheek tenderly and said, “Thank goodness you’re alive.”
Snow looked up at him with her father’s eyes, good eyes, and said, “Thank you.”
She was clearly smitten with this young man.
The Queen stepped in and said, “Thank you, young sir, but I will take over from here.”