EVERMORE: Snow Falls
By Caroline Metzlaff
This book is meant as a prequel to Evermore: The Rylakian Heir. It is a short window in to the events that led to Snow’s arrival in Lonstas.
Special thanks to all of you that read and enjoyed The Rylakian Heir, there is more coming soon. I promise!
Copyright March 2013 Caroline Metzlaff
Published March 2013
EVERMORE: SNOW FALLS
By Caroline Metzlaff
According to legend, she sat by the window embroidering, and her mind began to wander. And as her mind wandered, she accidentally pricked her finger. Three very large, very dark, drops of blood fell on her immaculate white silk dress, and as she watched the red stain spread quickly across her beautiful white dress, she made three very powerful wishes.
The first wish was that she would have a daughter with skin as white as snow, the second: that the daughter would have lips as red as blood, and the third: that the child’s hair be black as ebony.
Soon after that, Queen Allana of Rylak did indeed give birth to a beautiful baby girl with beautiful dark hair and eyes, pale skin and red buttercup lips. Now Queen Allana was a loving and beautiful queen, utterly adored by the entire country, and the papparazzi’s absolute favorite subject; so naturally, much about her was often romanticised and exaggerated, but she did in fact name her one and only daughter Snow. An unusual name to be sure, and it lent a certain amount of credence to the oft repeated, now legendary tale. The nation ecstatically celebrated the birth for weeks, and Snow’s birthday became a national holiday.
Five years later Queen Allana, the ‘Fairest of them all’, mysteriously died in her sleep, leaving a devastated husband, the dashing King Roland, a lost and confused little girl, and an entire continent to mourn.
The loss of the beautiful and vibrant Queen Allana, had been more than the country of Rylak could bare, and a terrible grief hung heavily around the hearts of the populace, but none as heavy as that which shrouded the hearts of King Roland and his sweet little Snow. Hallways that had once rang with laughter, fell heartbreakingly silent as Castle White, once a hub of joyful entertainment, became a dark and painful fortress; its gleaming white stone allowed to darken, and thorny vines threaded their way up the towers.
And then it happened that King Roland was saddled with a visit from King Leopold and Queen Sylvia of the neighboring kingdom of Lonstas. Under the guise of discussing trade routes and diplomatic placement, King Leopold had invited both himself and his warm and loving wife for an extended stay with his old friend, in hopes of reviving Roland’s despairing spirit. And of course there were to be Balls.
Great Balls, that had Roland, with Leopold and Sylvia’s most heartfelt and constant encouragement, throw open the doors of cold and silent Castle White. Famous orchestras were employed, the wine ran freely and the tables were heaped with an immense and delicious feast every night. And the nobility came, from all across the vast land of Rylak they came, and the hallways rang with music and laughter once again.
And that was where he saw her. A tall, slender young woman, with a crown of thick, glossy black hair that flowed gloriously down to the small of her back, and a delightfully strong boned and beautiful face with very dark, arched brows, she caught and held Roland’s attention from the first moment he caught sight of her dancing so gracefully in her deep burgundy satin gown. Her name was Rosalyn, and he fell in love instantly.
They were married within the year, Snow had a new stepmother that appeared to adore her, and Roland had a new lease on life. The nation, overjoyed by the turn of events, erected a statue of the beautiful new queen, depicting her abundant beauty and grace. This statue still stands in the capital city of Lyra
Now, nearly eleven years later, Princess Snow sat at the same window her mother had sat at all those years ago, and looked out the same window in to the opulent centre courtyard. Castle White’s courtyard was beautifully populated with dazzling water fountains depicting dancing nyads and laughing sprites, smooth stone sculptures of dwarves, unicorns and other unusual land dwellers, and a small, beautiful maze that started at the fragrant rose garden and ended at the crystal fountain of rainbows. And then there was the majestic apple tree that Snow’s stepmother, Rosalyn, had transplanted there soon after her marriage to King Roland. This magically inspired courtyard was a sad reminder of an earlier time, a time when creatures magical and otherwise, lived in peace with the humans; a time that had long since past for their world of Evermore.
As Snow sat in her mother’s famous window seat, looking down in to the courtyard, she couldn’t fight the nostalgic sadness that overcame her. The same sadness that she felt every time she gazed at that tree. The tree towered majestically over the sculptures and fountains in the enchanted garden, and now covered with a soft veil of white flowers, it was truly queen of the garden. That tree, and her love for it, was one of the many things she had shared with her stepmother, they both had an insatiable love for the apples it produced in such abundance each year. Some of her fondest memories with the new queen, Rosalyn, were the times they spent harvesting those apples together. She had been perhaps seven or eight, the year Rosalyn had Gregor the huntsman, shake the tree for them as they both danced about collecting the falling apples, all the while laughing hysterically together. The army of cooks in Castle White had turned many of those apples in to sumptuous pies and cakes; and on more than one occasion Snow had tip-toed down to the kitchen in the dead of night, intent on scavenging just one more piece of apple pie, when she would find herself face to face with her stepmother, intent on the very same thing. Smiling conspiringly at one another, they would devour the first pastry they came across, and would both blush appropriately the next morning when the cooks smiled knowingly at them. Life had been good.
It couldn’t have been easy for Rosalyn, marrying the popular King Roland and stepping in to the much beloved Queen Allana, the ‘Fairest of them all’s’ sky high shoes, but Rosalyn had done so with apparent ease. Instead of trying to emulate the much beloved and now deceased queen, Rosalyn had quite simply been herself, which had proven more than effective enough. Whereas Allana had been graceful, delicate and blonde; Rosalyn was tall, dark and lively, bearing in fact a strong resemblance to both Roland and his small daughter. And although the two young queens were at opposite ends, with regards to beauty, they had two very important traits in common: they both adored King Roland and little Snow.
Not much was known about the beautiful Rosalyn before that fateful night King Roland had caught sight of her dancing at the ball, and when little Snow had innocently asked the young queen about her past one day, Rosalyn had simply replied “I came in to being the moment your father spoke to me.” Snow had always found that incredibly romantic.
Snow sighed. It was the eve of her sixteenth birthday.
Years ago, turning sixteen typically meant a betrothal was to be announced, but that custom had been steadily losing steam. Sixteen was now considered far too young to seriously consider marriage, and although arranged marriages still occurred, especially amongst the Aristocracy and Royal families, they were no longer the rule. Which was quite welcomed knowledge, as Snow literally cringed at the mere thought of a betrothal; she fervently hoped her stepmother wasn’t planning on springing something so unwanted on her. Besides, who could she marry?
Well, there were plenty of princes in the kingdom of Devon she supposed, but she had never met any of them, Devon had always seemed so far away...and lawless. Lonstas, magical and exciting Lonstas, had the two Charming princes, Leonardo and Nickoli, both of which she had met years ago, but Sarrilia hadn’t had a Royal Family in nearly 100 years. Snow sighed heavily, she didn’t know what to think, Rosaly
n had taken to staring so emotionlessly at her...often. It made Snow shiver just to think of it. Anything could be going on behind those large dark eyes; Snow was sure she would rather not know exactly what.
Their relationship hadn’t always been like this. There had been a time when Snow had laughed and played with her beautiful young stepmother, before her father had fallen ill, before the rebellion in the west, before it became apparent that her stepmother was actually a very powerful sorceress. What had happened to destroy their relationship Snow would never know, but as her father had become weaker, his vitality deteriorating, so had her relationship with her stepmother, leaving Snow more alone than ever. Gregor, head huntsman for Castle White, had sensed the heartbreaking loneliness that had settled about the beautiful young princess, and had taken it upon himself to befriend the young girl. She began to tell him her secrets, not that she had many, and he made time to listen gravely. Sometimes, if she was lucky, and he was in a good mood, he would take her in to the forest with him, and she would pick big bouquets of wild flowers as he told her stories about the surrounding lands, especially stories about Lonstas. She always listened with rapt attention when his stories featured the magical kingdom next to them; anything could, and most often did happen there, home to werewolves, vampires, elves and much more, Lonstas had utterly captured her imagination. Not that werewolves, vampires and elves didn’t live in Rylak, but no one ever saw them...especially not in the cities. At least not anymore. Those days spent wandering around with the kind hearted huntsman were her favorite days, but they didn’t happen so often anymore. The old huntsman had hinted that it wasn’t proper, now that she was becoming a young lady and all, for a dusty old huntsman to spend so much time alone with her. He still listened to her stories on occasion, and told her a few of his own, so he hadn’t abandoned her completely, a fact that she was more than thankful for. But it wasn’t the same.
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