Snow Whyte and the Queen of Mayhem

by Melissa Lemon

  “I don’t believe you,” said the queen. “Show me what you were just looking at.”

  “I wasn’t looking at anything.”

  “Liar. I saw what you were looking at. A girl. And there were others.”

  “Well, all right,” I said. I tried to disobey her; I showed her a dozen other girls in a dozen other houses.

  “Not that one,” she said again and again. “There was a child on the table and a man seated beside him. But there was something different about the man. And there were other different men. And the girl, she looked like . . .”

  The queen paused to reflect, and I could only imagine what was going on behind those cruel, black eyes. All of a sudden, her eyebrows rose in an expression of incredulous outrage. “It can’t be,” she gasped. “Show me the girl!”

  I continued to flash images of every girl and cottage I could think of, every one I had seen or learned of over the years.

  “I’m going to give you one more chance to live,” she intoned.

  To be honest, death—while not entirely appealing—was not as horrible to me as the queen knowing Katiyana was alive and well. But I could not allow the queen to kill me. Staying alive was the only way I could hope to protect the princess, to keep watch over her. If I died, the queen could climb inside the mirror and see for herself anyway. So I thought once again of Princess Katiyana and her seven little men.

  Jalb had begun chopping potatoes and turnips.

  “I’ll give you a thousand gold coins if you can stand on your heads,” Pokole squeaked to Corto and Arrapato.

  “You don’t have a single gold coin, let alone a thousand,” said Kapos.

  “The girl is the richest of us all and she doesn’t have a single gold coin either,” said Duan.

  “Who are they?” the queen demanded.

  Then Katiyana spoke. “I’m only rich because I have all of you,” she said, laughing. “What would I do without you?”

  “The way she talks,” the queen muttered. “Her smile and laugh. Those blue eyes.”

  Maybe I would have to tell her eventually, but I was going to prolong it as long as possible.

  “Tell me it’s not her,” she whispered.

  “It’s not her,” I replied, because I’ve never been one to disobey the queen of Mayhem.

  She looked at me with those stern, dark-as-night eyes, the ones that make you want to shrink until you disappear from ever having existed. “Tell me exactly who that girl is.”

  I’m ashamed to admit I couldn’t even contrive a lie; my mind had gone blank with the shock of discovery. What else was I to do? “It is your daughter, Queen Radiance, the one and only princess of Mayhem.”

  The silence that followed surprised and frightened me to the core. What would become of Princess Katiyana now? What would become of me?

  Queen Radiance sat down, breathing rapidly but deliberately. I’d never seen her in such a state of shock. Or was it rage?

  “Where is she?” Queen Radiance finally asked.

  “In Fluttering Forest, on the Mischief side. Not too far from Mischief Market, I believe.”

  More silence.

  “You lied to me,” she said with a far-off look in her eye. She seemed shocked and distracted.

  My mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this, trying to come up with some way to distract the queen, protect the princess, anything. I wanted to crawl out of my skin in desperation.

  “You can lie to me.”

  The pain of betrayal writhed across her face, but when you’re a lying, murdering queen, what do you expect?

  “I thought you couldn’t lie to me.”

  I mumbled under my breath about how she never trusted me and I didn’t know how she could be so surprised. I hoped she’d be so distraught about the lying she’d forget all about the princess.

  “And the princess lives? Still?”

  “She does.” I had wanted to say no, but my secret was out.

  The queen leaned in to the glass, so close I thought our noses might touch. She glared into my eyes, our bodies separated only by a thin pane of glass. From my point of view, her skin took on a golden yellow hue.

  “I can’t kill you yet.” Her voice was soft but heavily laced with malice. “I still need you. But rest assured, I will kill you the moment she’s dead.”

  An icy shiver vibrated down my spine as the queen rose, regal and murderous, and glided determinedly out of the room.

  Oh, the helplessness I felt then! I longed to call for help. I cried in frustration. I attempted to create spell after spell to get out of the mirror. I bruised my hands and arms pounding on the walls, trying to escape by sheer force. Eventually, I fell into my chair, exhausted and downtrodden. I dumped my head into my hands, stifling the desire to scream. Then I remembered the spell I created all those years ago to protect the princess, and a breeze of hope wafted through the tightness of my chest.

  I wanted Katiyana to know who she truly was. I wanted her to defeat Queen Radiance and take her place as the rightful queen of Mayhem. Nobody as cruel and insane as Tirnosha had the right to rule. I only had to find a way to keep the princess safe . . . somehow.

  A Faithful Servant

  Horrified and perversely amused, I realized that what the queen needed at this time was a faithful servant, one who would kill at her command without question. But let’s be realistic, when you torture your subjects and burn their homes, loyalty is a little hard to come by. She first stopped at the prison where her guards held captives until they faced their day of “justice.”

  I watched as she burst through the door. Three men were seated on the stone benches lining the barred cell doors. They jumped to their feet when they saw the queen.

  “Queen Radiance,” they said together, as if rehearsed, bowing their heads.

  The queen looked at each of them, studying their gruff physiques.

  “No, you’re not quite right for the job, I think.”

  What a bizarre thing for the queen to say. If not her own guards and executioners, who else would she require to murder her daughter? What awful plan was she devising?

  Queen Radiance spun around and stormed out of the room. I watched the men each let out a sigh of relief as they sat back down on their stone benches.

  I watched her dash about the castle, sure and determined, but who was she trying to locate? She walked in haste through a corridor brightened by the sun bursting through the cold windows. And as she did, a young man passed her. He carried a slaughtered furry buck upon his shoulder.

  “You there,” she called, turning and pointing a finger at him. “Halt.”

  The young man stopped, the weight of the beast bearing down on his back and legs. He twisted around to make eye contact with the woman giving commands.

  “Who are you?” she inquired.

  The lack of humility in the boy’s response surprised me. He did not even attempt to bow or lower his eyes. “Why, I’m your beast carter, Queen Radiance. Unless of course you intend to have me beheaded. Then you’ll have to find another.”

  Lucky for him, the queen ignored his lack of respect. “You are young,” she pointed out.

  “You must have the best eyesight in all of Mayhem,” the boy remarked.

  Queen Radiance looked deep into his brown eyes before taking strides in a circle around him, scrutinizing every inch of his physique. His hair rivaled the queen’s in blackness, and he wore it combed away from his face, cut to the nape of his neck.

  “And you’re attractive.”

  If you can call covered in sweat and blood attractive. I think his baggy shirt must have been white at one time, but patches of dingy yellow and splotches of red—some dried and faded, others fresh—made for the dirtiest shirt I’d ever seen. Black suspenders held up his black trousers, his shirt puffing out at the waist.

  “I underest
imated you, my good queen. You must have the best eyesight in the entire world.”

  He laughed at his own joke, the sound ringing and echoing through the corridor. He had a charming smile, the kind that crinkles cheeks and brightens eyes. I hoped the queen would not kill him for his arrogance or sarcasm, but she looked like she might.

  Her serious, threatening glare brought him back to reason and sobriety. “If you don’t mind, this kill is not light, and I’d like to get it to the kitchen before my knees give out on me.”

  I wondered at the queen’s strategy. What was she doing? A mere beast carter? Surely she wouldn’t ask this boy to do her evil bidding. He wasn’t even a hunter or an executioner—just a boy who carries meat from the out of doors to the kitchen, barely noticeable in the workings of a kingdom, maybe even pointless.

  “When you’ve deposited the carcass,” she said darkly, “make your way to the Northeastern tower. I will have a bath drawn for you and clothing laid out. The moment you’re dressed, I’ll have one of my maids waiting to escort you to my private bedchamber. There is something I wish to discuss with you.”

  Still somber, but perhaps suppressing a smirk, the boy began to shuffle away and follow the mysterious orders of Queen Radiance.

  ^-]

  An icy chill swept through me when I heard a knock at the queen’s door. I looked up toward the surface of the mirror, where before my head had been resting against my fisted hands. The boy had come, just as the queen had instructed.

  “Come in,” she called out from her tall, cherry wood wardrobe, having just changed into something the color of pale purple lilacs. Lace trimmed the bodice in a rectangular shape, as well as the sleeves at the wrist. I wondered if she sought to appear less intimidating, or perhaps more attractive. Who can guess why a woman changes clothing so many times a day?

  The boy stepped into the room, and what a transformation! Every layer of dirt had been removed, and his damp hair hung loosely at the sides of his face. His clothing served as the best improvement. He wore a clean, buttoned white shirt and oak colored trousers, clothing that used to be common among nobility, clothing Fredrick might have worn had his family never been stripped of their titles and forced into poverty and servitude. If it hadn’t been for his eyes and the insolent smirk on his face, I would never have recognized him. He gazed about the room, taking in the high ceiling, the walls covered in staggered stone and mounted with rows of candles, the luxurious furnishings, and the painting of Queen Radiance that hung above the bed.

  Queen Radiance moved to her vanity as he hesitated near the door, showing the first uncertainty I’d seen in him. Queen Radiance stopped, her hand lightly touching the rim of the mirror, but turned to face the boy before speaking. “I must ask you to do something dire, and yet it’s absolutely vital. Do you understand?”

  He nodded.

  “Before I explain your task, what is your name?” she asked.

  “Trevor Blevkey, Your Loveliness. I’ve been a servant to Her Majesty for nearly seven years.” While he did not appear to be frightened by her, the questioning look on his face and the closed stance of his body suggested wariness.

  Queen Radiance turned around to pick up the mirror.

  “Show me the girl,” she commanded.

  I pretended not to know which girl she referred to and flashed images of several girls, one of them a servant in the next room.

  She held the mirror close to her face and whispered sharply. “I told you I would kill you, and that has not changed. But perhaps I will allow you to have a say in how you die if you cooperate with me.”

  I couldn’t argue with that one. I thought of Princess Katiyana, who was working side by side with Jalb.

  “Do you see this girl?” Queen Radiance asked, extending her arms out so the mirror faced toward Trevor Blevkey.

  “Well, I’m not blind, Your Grace.” He reached out as if to touch the mirror.

  “What did you say?” the queen asked, a scowl darkening her beautiful face. She pulled the mirror back, tight against her chest. All the movement began to make me a little dizzy.

  His carelessness and sarcasm finally began to dissipate as he sensed the seriousness of his current predicament. He straightened, smoothing his expression and his tone into something much closer to respect.

  “I mean yes, Your Majesty.”

  She thrust the mirror toward him again. “This girl escaped punishment and has been living in Mischief, a traitor to her country.”

  Trevor studied the scene before him, narrowing in on her face. “Well, what did she do?”

  “That is not something you need to know.” Queen Radiance continued to hold the mirror up. “You only need know that she must be killed.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I have chosen you to be the one to kill her.”

  He blinked slowly, the refusal building explosively behind his eyes. But to my surprise, he won the struggle for silence and merely stood there, face attentive.

  “Get a good look at her.”

  A sudden burst of desperate insight flashed through me, and I saw my opportunity. With the mirror’s surface out of the queen’s murderous view, I began rapidly shifting my focus, flipping through my memories like a stack of old paintings. I thought of the queen trying to drown her daughter, concentrating as hard as I could. Trevor watched with a raised eyebrow, glancing once at the queen. I thought of King Fredrick carrying the baby away on the queen’s horse. I thought of Barney next, rocking the princess; Katiyana picking apples; Jeremy saying good-bye; and finally, tearfully, I thought of the young woman back in the little house with the seven little men. They came to life, jovial and affectionate, eating their dinner.

  “I don’t understand,” Trevor began.

  In a flash, I shut off the image and pressed my forehead against the glass, smiling gently in an attempt to avoid alarming the boy.

  Trevor squinted and moved closer. “Is someone in there?”

  I put a finger to my lips, begging him to be quiet. I pulled my face back, focusing my thoughts once again on the princess, and her image filled the glass just as the queen flipped the mirror’s surface back to her view.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Exactly what you asked,” I answered smoothly.

  She glared at me, then held the mirror against her, as if that would keep me from seeing.

  “Take your time if you must. Draw her in with your appealing face, extract her smiles and laughter, and when you’ve earned her trust, kill her.” When the boy gave no answer, she continued, narrowing her eyes and tapping her long fingernails against the back of the mirror. “You do not have a choice. Your queen requires it.”

  “I’ll be honored to do as her majesty commands.” And finally, in an exaggerated bow, he folded his arm over his middle and lowered his head almost to the floor. His dark hair flopped forward, brushing across the floor.

  Although I could see the bow irked her, the queen maintained her icy calm as she placed the mirror back on her vanity table.

  “Good,” she said. “The girl lives in the heart of Fluttering Forest with seven dwarves. Not too far from Mischief Market.” The queen opened one of the vanity drawers and pulled out a tied, black velvet sack that clinked when she shifted it; coins, I suspected.

  “For your journey. And you may choose any horse from the stable.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Trevor reached for the sack of coins, but the queen held onto it a little longer. “Do. Not. Fail.” Her ivory face stood immobile, like chiseled mountain stone.

  “I understand,” he replied. Satisfied, Queen Radiance set the velvet sack into his waiting hands and watched, with a faraway expression, as he strode quickly from the room.

  Wasting no time, the boy headed immediately for the stables. But I was jolted out of my vision when I realized th
at, for the first time in nearly twenty years, Queen Radiance had entered the mirror. Shocked but unafraid, I stood my ground. Hatred writhed across her face, twisting her beautiful features into an ugly mask. I half expected to die then, and thought of the princess, hoping the spell I’d invited to life all those years ago would protect her if I couldn’t. But Queen Radiance settled for slapping me hard across the face. Though it seared with pain, I looked her in the eye and forced myself to smile. I wanted her to believe the sting brought me pleasure.

  As she stepped back, I brought my thoughts into sharp focus once more and watched Trevor race away from the castle, the straw-colored horse beneath him kicked into a gallop. I wondered if he realized that, fail or succeed, the queen planned to kill him anyway.

  ^-]

  Trevor Blevkey began his journey as a confident rider, but when a winter storm hurried in, engulfing the light of the sun and intensifying the bite of the frost, he slowed just before hitting a wall of icy snow.

  I could barely see the road anymore, or even a few inches beyond the person on whom I focused. Trevor took a scarf from his satchel and wrapped it around as much of his exposed face, head, and neck as possible, the storm swirling around him. Overwhelmed, his horse went berserk, bucking and whining.

  Shifting my focus, I was startled to see sunlight pouring through the window in the queen’s private bedchamber. There was something very odd going on. Clouds of blackness, as well as a vortex of angry snow, covered Trevor, but in other areas of Fluttering Forest children romped through the snow in their winter boots, the sun shining above them. In Mischief Market, the sun shone. At the home of Kurz and the other dwarves, the sun burned bright on the rooftop, sending a clump of snow sliding down to the ground below.

  I stood up from my chair, walked closer to the surface of the mirror, and thought again of Trevor Blevkey. Oh, the excitement I felt then! I would have jumped for joy if my room had not been as small as it was. My spell was working!

  Unable to calm his horse, Trevor dismounted and pulled him into a roadside thicket. I hadn’t thought it possible, but the storm worsened, becoming violent as if in an attempt to kill Trevor. The wind and snow slammed against him, forcing him to the ground and repeating every time he tried to get up. A fierce gust of wind unwound his scarf and pulled it into the air. As Trevor reached for it, the horse made his escape, bolting into the storm and out of sight. Finally, Trevor yielded. He crawled between the shrubs of the thicket, collapsing against their bare branches, choosing to wait out the storm rather than face it.