Snow Whyte and the Queen of Mayhem

by Melissa Lemon

  I think Katiyana sought this experience of getting to know “Trevor Blevkey” to prove something to herself, and maybe even her seven little men. While she stood a comfortable woman’s height, had beautiful features, and could learn to do anything with little instruction (most things she could even figure out through trial and error), the one area she lacked was interacting with young men. Other than Jeremy, and an occasional apprentice at the market, she knew nothing of them. Naturally, this made me nervous, and this was one thing I didn’t want her to learn through trial and error.

  The pointed return of winter did not deter Iden from attempting a courtship with Princess Katiyana. He knocked on their door the same night he came up with his horrid plan, the sound faint in the howling wind.

  Corto and Arrapato walked around the room to stretch their legs a bit.

  “Was that the door?” Corto asked.

  “I don’t think so,” said Arrapato. “I bet the wind just blew something against the house so it sounded like a knock. Who would come out in this weather and at this time of night?”

  “I heard it too,” confirmed Jalb.

  All of them looked to Kurz for approval to open the door. “Let’s see who it is,” Kurz said. “I’ve never seen it snow like this my whole life. Maybe somebody got caught in it and needs refuge.”

  “Or maybe it’s somebody wanting to kill us all,” Jalb said.

  “Don’t be silly,” Duan added. “People don’t knock on doors planning to kill the people inside.” He laughed. And I laughed as well because I actually knew somebody who did that often—Queen Radiance.

  Katiyana sat at the table, playing a game with Pokole. Corto shifted his direction toward the door, pulling his brother along beside him. After fighting briefly over who got to answer it, they pulled the door open together.

  “Hello,” Iden greeted them, his face bright and expectant despite the cold and dark.

  “Why’s he here?” Pokole asked.

  Duan walked over to the door, his large belly leading the way. “Come in, Trevor. Come in out of that cold and wind.”

  Iden stomped his feet and shook the scarf around his neck. “Hello, everyone,” he said, walking through the door. His manners were always so positive, although just a touch condescending, as if everyone should be happy to see him.

  Jalb grunted. Everyone else gave a nod, except Pokole, who refused to look at him.

  Iden looked at Katiyana. “Hello, Snow Whyte.”

  Her face had begun to pale, but at his greeting it reddened a bit.

  “Hello, Trevor,” she answered.

  Kapos stood and pulled over a stool for their visitor.

  “Have a seat,” he said, slapping the prince on the middle of his back—it looked to be the highest Kapos could reach. “Warm your feet and dry your coat by the fire.”

  Trying to court a girl while surrounded by so many pairs of eyes would have been too awkward for me; but from what I could see, Iden loved the attention.

  “How are all of you?” he asked, looking around the room.

  “Surprised by the sudden change in the weather,” Duan said, reclaiming his seat close to the resonating heat of the fire.

  Jalb came between them all for a moment to add more logs and stoke the blaze.

  Iden tried to get Pokole to look at him. “What are you playing up there, little one?”

  Any other of the dwarves would have been angered by the comment, but I suppose Pokole was used to being called things like that. Katiyana searched her little friend’s face, hopefully waiting for an answer. Finally, she answered for him.

  “We’re playing a game that Pokole invented. We each have a pile of sticks and take turns adding them to create a picture.”

  The show of emotion in her face had dissipated, and it now looked the same color as the whir of white out the window.

  “That’s a clever game, Pokole. You are a wonder of a little man,” Iden flattered. “How is your arm?” Perhaps Iden wasn’t completely unfeeling; it sounded like he really did want to know. Then again, he could have been an actor if fortune hadn’t handed him a place in the world as a prince.

  Pokole finally looked at his interrogator. “The lavender helps,” he said.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Iden said, and then turned his attention back to Katiyana.

  “And how are you, Snow Whyte?”

  “Why does he keep calling her that?” Jalb mumbled, now finished with his chores and taking a seat amongst the others.

  Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who heard him.

  “Do you mind me calling you that, Kat?” Iden questioned.

  Red and pink began seeping into her face once more.

  “It’s not my name,” she said, not really answering the question. “And I’m fine. Anxiously awaiting spring.”

  “As are we all,” Duan said, nodding. “Kapos and I can’t wait to get back into the garden. Think of all the lovely vegetables we’ll eat again.”

  Katiyana avoided Iden’s gaze as she turned to Pokole.

  “I need to make some bread for tomorrow since we ate the last loaf at supper. Would you like to help me?”

  Pokole glanced at Iden and then shook his head.

  “Are you sure? We could spare a little flour to throw at each other.”

  Pokole shook his head again.

  “Kapos, would you see if Pokole would like someone else to play with while I make bread?” Katiyana asked.

  Kapos slapped his legs and stood. “Anything for fresh bread,” he said.

  “May I be of assistance, Snow Whyte?” Iden asked. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to make bread.”

  Jalb rolled his eyes and muttered, “Sure he has,” which brought a reprimanding glance from Duan, Kurz, and Katiyana.

  “Of course you can help,” Katiyana said. Then she looked down at Pokole once more. “I’ll save the first slice for you. Will that be all right?”

  Pokole nodded.

  Katiyana showed Iden how to measure the ingredients and stir without spilling. “Jalb gets after me if I leave a mess on his workspace,” she whispered.

  “Ah,” Iden said. “I’ll be careful.”

  He stirred while Katiyana prepared a slab of stone. She showed him how to knead it until it was smooth as polished rock.

  Iden touched her arm, then clasped it gently.

  “Do you ever get warm?” he asked.

  “I am warm,” she replied.

  “You can’t be. You’re cold as ice.”

  Katiyana flushed; Iden’s hand remained encircled about her arm. “I do feel warm, but not as warm as the touch of your hand.”

  “There,” he said. “You’ve got some color coming back into those cheeks.”

  Katiyana cleverly pulled away as she reached for the slab of stone covered in flour. She shaped the bread and placed it on top of the slab. Then she lay a thin, ragged linen cloth over the top.

  “Now we let it rise,” she said. “The longer it rises, the more bread there will be.”

  “So if we let it rise until tomorrow we’ll feast?”

  Katiyana laughed. “Not exactly,” she said, and truly, her cheeks were redder than I’d ever seen them, though the rest of her remained colorless.

  “I brought something for you,” Iden said.

  “For me?” Interestingly, perhaps instinctively, Katiyana looked across the room at the carved wooden box Jeremy had given her. I can’t say what thoughts buzzed inside her female head, but it looked as though she revered the box. And Jeremy’s coins had been such a blessing to them all.

  Iden reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a large, sparkling red gem that fit nicely in the palm of his hand.

  “It’s beautiful,” Katiyana said. “The color is so red, even redder than blood. What is it?”

  “You do
n’t know what it is?” Jeremy laughed.

  Katiyana turned away from the others to keep the exchange hidden.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she whispered. “How am I supposed to know what it is?”

  “I’m sorry,” Iden said. “I thought every girl knew such things.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t laugh at me.”

  “Again, I’m sorry.” He bowed his head toward her. “It’s a ruby. I dug it out of a cave that my parents used to take me to when I was a boy.”

  “And it’s for me?” Katiyana asked.

  Iden laughed again.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “What am I to do with it?”

  Iden placed it in her cold hand and pushed her fingers closed around it. “Keep it. It’s more valuable than you could imagine.”

  “Valuable? You mean I could use it to buy things?”

  “I’m sure you could,” Iden said, grabbing a few peanuts from the workspace and putting them in his mouth.

  “But why are you giving me money? Or something that is worth money?”

  “Does there have to be a reason?” He chewed with his mouth open. What terrible manners!

  Katiyana’s blank stare made me think she still did not understand. Perhaps his gift confused her, since Jeremy had given her a similar gift after telling her he loved her and wanted to marry her. Perhaps she wondered if Iden loved her and wanted to marry her as well. I knew he wanted to marry her. I also knew he did not love her.

  “It’s a jewel,” Iden said. “It’s used to make things beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” said Katiyana. I imagine she didn’t know what else to say.

  Iden stayed for hours, attempting to woo the princess and win over as many of her seven little men as possible. I’d never seen so much flattery! As all of the men stood around the table taking guesses at what Pokole and Kapos were drawing, the princess hid Iden’s jewel in Jeremy’s lovely hand-carved box.

  Once Iden left, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, even Katiyana.

  Jalb went about cleaning up after the bread-making, and everyone else sat in a lengthy silence.

  “Was I the only one worried where he’d sleep if he stayed the night?” Pokole asked.

  Each of the others laughed at him.

  “Oh, Pokole,” Katiyana said. “What would we do without you? Winter would be a torment.”

  Kapos got up off his stool and walked to the window. “Maybe winter’s finally bowing out.”

  The snow had stopped, and silhouetted against the light of the moon, the trees rested from the demands of the angry wind.

  “Well, at least I didn’t have to cook for him,” Jalb muttered. “It’s bad enough that he got a slice of Snow Whyte’s bread.”

  Everyone looked at the pudgy dwarf. “What? I happen to like the name. It’s just the boy I can’t stand.”

  “She said she doesn’t like it,” Kapos defended.

  “I never said that,” Katiyana said. “I just said it wasn’t my name.”

  “Maybe it could be your altername,” Corto said.

  “I don’t like it,” Arrapato said, glaring at his brother. Corto rolled his eyes.

  “I’ve never had an altername before,” Katiyana said. A smile came to her face. “Do you remember the altername of that girl in the book we read last fall?”

  “I do,” Arrapato said. “Chew Chew.”

  They all laughed, remembering.

  “I hope you have better taste in books this year,” Jalb said to Katiyana as she prepared the table.

  “We need a good altername for Trevor,” Kurz said.

  “How about Stupid?” Pokole asked.

  They all stared at him and then burst out laughing.

  “What?” he protested. “It fits.”

  “Pokole, don’t be so rude,” Katiyana spurted amid her laughter.

  “I’ve got one,” Kurz said. “Prince. Since he walks and talks like he’s so much mightier than the rest of us.”

  Everybody pondered over the name.

  “I don’t like that one,” Katiyana said. “Let’s just stick with Trevor Blevkey. And please don’t call me Snow Whyte when he’s around. I don’t like it when he says it. Please don’t encourage him.”

  “But you’re only white as snow when he’s around,” Kurz pointed out.

  “Yeah, what’s that all about?” Jalb asked. “Suspicious.”

  “Indeed,” Duan said.

  Katiyana looked at her arms that now boasted her usual warm tanned tone, one that blended with the color of the medium oak wood of the table.

  “Unexplainable,” she said softly.

  ^-]

  Then blackness; I turned my thoughts elsewhere. With the weather on the mend, I knew Queen Radiance would again be eager to find out what the princess was up to. I thanked the stars above for the blessings of my spell, and turned my thoughts to Jeremy Simkins.

  I had watched Jeremy from time to time throughout the winter, always with the same results: he traveled the countryside looking for work, returned home, gave all his money to Cora Simkins and started again the next day. Nothing short of boring and repetitious if you ask me. But not this time.

  I checked in on Jeremy and where do you imagine he was? He was being escorted out of the royal castle of Mischief! What had he been doing there? I hated it when I missed such things.

  I had never paid much attention to the royal castle of Mischief. Such grand doors. Lit by the torches on either side, they towered over Jeremy and the bearded guard who led him out.

  “Have you heard?” the guard whispered, leaning close to Jeremy.

  “Heard what?” He sounded annoyed. He didn’t have time for rumors; he had the countryside to travel, after all.

  “Prince Iden is missing.”

  “Missing?” Jeremy shook his head. “What do you mean he’s missing?”

  “Disappeared from his post, or so says his handler. Over in Mayhem where he’d been stationed for his seven years of poverty.”

  Jeremy mulled it over.

  “Gone,” the guard reaffirmed.

  “There’s a reason you’re telling me this, isn’t there?” Jeremy asked.

  “Only that I heard you asking the king and queen for money. If it’s money you want, you’ll get it if you find Prince Iden. They’re offering ten thousand gold coins!”

  “Are you sure?” He clutched the guard’s arm—what urgency filled his eyes then!

  “Come with me. The king and queen asked me to give you something.”

  Knowing the king and queen of Mischief, I thought it would be some sort of ruse, but the man led Jeremy down the great grassy hill where the royal castle stood. They entered the stables, and the guard let a mud-colored horse out of his stall.

  “A gift from the king and queen, because of your poor circumstances.” I guessed the queen and king were showing an ounce of compassion to the poor boy. It must have taken great courage to travel to the castle and approach the king and queen begging for money.

  A look of knowing passed between them, as if they shared some secret. I hate knowing looks; why didn’t they just say what was on their minds? Moments like that always made me feel so isolated.

  Under the starlit sky, Jeremy rode away on the horse, traveling long across the country and returning again to the home of Cora Simkins. I couldn’t believe it. What on earth was he doing? He tied the animal up to a tree outside, whispering to it so low that I could not distinguish the words. He entered the still house where everyone slept. The sun would be coming up soon. Would he sell the horse? Give the money to the parents that thought so little of him? Did he remember the girl he’d left? The girl he’d promised he’d return to?

  Ruby

  Every occupant of the little house in Fluttering Forest slept on the floor, since the onl
y furnishings consisted of the table they all ate on, the table Jalb used to prepare food, and the stools scattered all around. Late at night, when the others were sleeping, Katiyana would pull out the ruby Iden had given her, and peer at it in the moonlight.

  Iden came daily now, his smile gleaming brighter than the sun. At first, he could not persuade Katiyana to come for a walk with him. So he subjected himself to being a guest in the little dwarf house. Duan constantly asked him questions. They learned that while originally from Mischief, Trevor Blevkey had spent several years in Mayhem.

  “Fascinating,” Duan replied.

  “Why would you want to go and do a thing like that?” Kurz asked suspiciously.

  “Do they eat lots of chicken in Mayhem?” Pokole shrugged when everyone stared at him. “What? We never get to eat chicken. I was just wondering.”

  Jalb glared intensely at the visitor, and I’m pretty sure he fantasized about chopping up his limbs as he stood chopping potatoes for stew.

  At last, Katiyana rewarded Iden’s toleration for her little men. After nearly a week of watching him squirm under scrutiny, she agreed to let him walk her to the market.

  “I don’t want you to go today,” Pokole pouted. His arm hurt again and he had come down with a fever on top of everything else.

  “Hush now,” Katiyana told him in her usual kindness. “You’re just upset because you can’t come this time. But I’ll bring you something from the market. Besides, I have to go today. We’ll run out of supplies if the weather turns even one more time.”

  “Don’t forget to take your shawl,” Duan said. “It may not be snowing, but the cold bites the bones.”

  Suddenly, I was distracted from my vision of the dwarves’ home. The queen stormed into her bedchamber, startling me profusely. I blinked the image of the princess away, shaking my head. I longed for escape as I heard the clicking of her shoes coming toward me. I wanted to disappear—vanish out of her presence rather than be trapped beneath her magical charms, afraid of her reaction to what I knew she’d see.