Red as Snow

by Kendra E. Ardnek

  Red as Snow

  By Kendra E. Ardnek

  Copyright © 2018 Kendra E. Roden

  Rose hadn’t loved her husband, the king. How could she when he’d been old enough to be her grandfather? His death, for the most part, only brought her relief.

  Still, she had to make a show of grief, so she put on her best black silk, covered her red hair with a black veil, and dabbed her dry eyes with a handkerchief as she stood by his coffin while they lowered it into the ground.

  His daughter didn’t seem to even be making that much of an effort. Snow stood expressionless at the other end of the grave, iron-straight, hands folded at her waist, eyes flitting from person to person in the crowd.

  It amused Rose to no end that she was the woman’s stepmother. Snow was nearly ten years her elder! Such was what happened when you were the fourth wife of a very old king, though. Truly, she was lucky to not any stepchildren older than that.

  Amusement, alas, would never do today. Rose dabbed harder at her eye, adding an exaggerated sniff for effect.

  Snow glanced towards her with a contemptuous glare. Rose just gave another loud sniff and offered her best mournful expression.

  Perhaps she was sad, after all. He had been her husband, and he was now dead. He’d been a good king – a good man.

  She was a widow and not yet seventeen. The king’s widow! What was to become of her now?

  The question echoed in her head as the first shovelful of dirt was thrown into the grave. Echoed as the second followed it and then the third. What was to become of her now?

  Rose retreated to her chambers as soon as it was polite. Normally, she wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to mingle with guests, but that was before her widowhood.

  She threw herself into the chair before her vanity and stared at her reflection. She didn’t look like a widow, even in her black silk and lace. Widowhood wasn’t the only reason to wear black, something she knew quite well from her own father’s death seven years before. What she did look was ghastly. Black was completely not her color, and she was going to be stuck in it for the next several months.

  Poor Snow, though. It wasn’t easy losing one’s father. Rose had at least been too young to entirely understand what was going on, and her seven older brothers and mother had managed things. Snow would have to handle everything on her own. And be queen.

  A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts.

  Since she had sent her maidservants away to facilitate her show of grief, she answered the door herself. Sure, she could have ignored the door – she was grieving after all – but she had a sudden desire to talk to someone.

  It proved to be the king’s nephew. Sir Charmel was a generally-liked fellow among the ladies, tall, darkly handsome, and the most eligible bachelor in the kingdom. Rose had, herself, entertained thoughts of marrying him before her eldest brother had announced that the king himself had asked for her. Despite his popularity, he usually acted in the girls who would fawn over him, preferring to sequester himself in study. None knew what those studies were, though Rose had heard Snow muttering something about sorcery one day after they had quarreled.

  It was no secret that the two cousins did not get along.

  “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” Rose asked, refraining from curtseying. She was the queen, after all, and her rank superseded his. Besides, this was her bedroom.

  “I wanted to see how you are coping with your recent loss,” he told her, with a concerned frown. “You disappeared so quickly…”

  “I’m a widow now,” she answered, lifting her chin. “I can avoid company if I choose.”

  “Quite true, I admit,” said Charmel. His expression changed as he glanced into her room over her head. “Are you alone, my queen?”

  She shrugged, not willing to admit to the affirmative, but neither wanting to lie. “Oh, I’m quite alone in the world now that my husband is gone.”

  He gave a breathy laugh and – oh! – he was so handsome when he was amused. “Do you know what shall become of you?”

  She bit her lip and gave another shrug.

  “It is a pity that my uncle fell ill so immediately after your wedding,” he continued, seeming not to notice that she hadn’t answered. “Your situation would be far less uncertain if you’d had the chance to produce him an heir.”

  “How do you know that I didn’t?” Rose lifted her chin. She didn’t know much about the heir-making process, granted, but she did know that it took time. Her eldest brother and his wife had been expecting theirs for several months now.

  Charmel gave an actual laugh this time. “Oh? Are you trying to tell me that my dear uncle actually had a chance to properly bed you? He fell ill the day after your wedding.”

  Rose’s eyes widened. She’d heard her older brothers discus “bedding” a few times but didn’t know what it meant. They always looked so guilty whenever she asked that she’d assumed it was a bad thing. “The king was too much of a gentleman to do something like that to me,” she declared.

  “A gentleman indeed,” Charmel declared, laughing some more, and this time it didn’t make him seem handsome. He caught Rose by the shoulder, guided her into the bedroom, and shut the door behind them. “And now you have me wondering how Snow managed to blunder into the world.”

  Rose blinked.

  “Dear, naïve, little Rose,” Charmel continued. “I’ve come to make you a deal – a way for you to find security in your current state. My uncle is dead now, but I could help you give him an heir.”

  “But how?” Rose was didn’t like the way that he was staring at her. Nor did she like that they were now alone in her bedroom. “And a deal – what do you want from me in return?”

  “I’ll only ask is that you marry me once the child is born,” he answered. “Provided it’s a son, of course. We do run the risk of producing a girl, who won’t have precedence over my cousin.”

  “Are you planning to use your … sorcery?” Rose asked, discomfort knotting in her stomach. She inched backward.

  “My sorcery? Did Snow tell you about that?” he asked, laughing again. “Well, I could use a bit to help ensure that the child be a boy, but you’re a pretty, young thing. I wouldn’t mind doing it the natural way.”

  “Natural way,” she repeated, hastily retreating now. “You … you’re not my husband! Get out of my room before I scream!”

  “Oh, come now, Little Rose. Think about it – Snow will have you thrown out of these rooms within the week,” Charmel pointed out.

  Rose did not like the way he smiled at her. How had she ever admired him? And only a few minutes before!

  “I’m going to throw you out of these rooms right now!” she declared.

  He chuckled and backed away. “Very well, but do consider my offer. You have a few days of grace so that you can decide – and the sooner, the better, to be certain.” He pulled something from his pocket and placed on the table next to the door. “Take a token of my generosity, proof that I mean you no ill. Let me know if you change your mind before it’s too late.”

  With that, he left her room.

  Rose took a shaking breath before stepping forward to examine what he’d left her. A small hand mirror, scarcely larger than her palm, held in a silver frame. Yet, even as she stared at it, her reflection clouded and shifted, revealing strange, unclear shapes.

  “Sorcery to be certain,” she muttered and shoved it into a drawer in her desk. Then she fled her room, unable to bear her solitude.

  Rose rushed into Snow’s bedroom and found the princess bent over papers. Since the door had been partially open, Rose had no qualms with barging right in, not even bothering to knock.

  Her stepdaughter looked up, frowning. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Rose?” Her tone belied the
“pleasure.” Snow seemed quite annoyed, though that was nothing out of the ordinary for her.

  Rose opened her mouth but was suddenly unsure what to say. Sir Charmel’s conduct just now had been very improper, and merely thinking about it made Rose blush.

  “Your cousin is not a gentleman,” she finally declared, drawing herself to her full height.

  Snow’s eyebrow arched. “Indeed? And here I was hoping you were here to tell me something that I didn’t already know. Guess that was too much to ask. You’re terribly slow on the uptake.”

  Rose blinked, her cheeks burning. “Well, he was just in my bedroom trying to … to … I’m not actually sure what he was trying to do. But we were alone and I know his intentions weren’t proper.”

  Snow turned back to her paperwork. “He was in my bedroom before he visited you, and he wasn’t being very gentlemanly to me, either. Allow me to apologize for his behavior, for I know that he’ll never do it himself.”

  Rose frowned. “But he’s your cousin.”

  “Alas,” Snow answered, “that has never protected me from his twisted thoughts. Why do you think he’s never paid heed to any other girl? He’s after me, and it’s because I’m his quickest route to the throne. He was in here to demand I marry him.”

  “He can’t do that to you … can he? You’re going to be queen!”

  Snow sighed and stood up. “I wish I could say no, but he’s apparently uncovered an old bylaw that states a woman has to marry to inherit the throne. So he’s pressuring me to marry him.”

  “And you didn’t already know about this law?” Rose asked.

  “The kingdom hasn’t faced this issue for hundreds of years.” Snow shook her head. “Even Queen Lilac was already married when her father died. I wish this was something that he magicked out of the woodwork, but it does seem legitimate.” She glanced towards the paper. “I have four weeks to find a man who’ll marry me, or Charmel will force me to either abdicate or marry him.”

  “Is there a way around the law?” Rose asked.

  “Charmel says there is none, but I will search for a way.”

  “I don’t know that it’d be that hard for you to find someone willing to marry you,” Rose mused. “You’re going to be queen.”

  “Precisely.” Snow glanced at Rose with an eyeroll. “Everyone wants to marry the queen. But who wants to marry Snow? I’ve lost my youthful innocence, and I was never a great beauty. If I settle for a man who just wants my position, then I might as well just take Charmel.”

  “You need to have a ball,” Rose decided. “Invite all the eligible young men and choose one.”

  Snow scoffed. “You think that it’s that simple?”

  “Well, it worked for my father. It’s how he met my mother,” Rose explained. “Besides, what can it hurt? Charmel gave you four whole weeks, so don’t hold it immediately – you’re in mourning. The end of next week at the earliest. If you’d like, I’ll help you with the invitations. I always loved helping my mother with invitations. We held lots of events, so I have had plenty of practice.”

  “And just like that, I’ll find myself a husband?” Snow turned away with a shake of her head. “I … never had a proper beau when I was your age. How could I do any better now and on short notice?”

  “You have a guaranteed crown – no chance of any brothers to steal it from you now,” Rose pointed out. “At least try it, Snow, at the very least to raise the spirits of the kingdom. It’s been so terribly long since we had any sort of event – not since the wedding.”

  “I still don’t know how necessary or even effective it might be for my dilemma.”

  “I’ll plan it all for you,” Rose promise. “You focus on the legal stuff and see if you can find a way around the bylaw, and I’ll focus on finding you a perfect husband.”

  “At a ball.”

  “Don’t you worry one bit about it.”

  With that, Rose ran out of the room, completely forgetting all about Charmel’s visit to her just minutes before, and about the gift he’d left for her.

  Planning a ball proved a bit harder than Rose had always thought it’d be from watching her mother put them together. Fortunately, the matron of events knew exactly what needed to be done, as the king’s third wife had loved throwing balls, and helped Rose through the process.

  It was held just a week and a half after the funeral, and the official reason was for Snow to properly acquaint herself with the lords and ladies of her kingdom. Rose did place strong hints in the invitation that Snow would be selecting a husband at the event, but Snow had forbidden her to outright declare it. She didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up and was herself very doubtful that it would be at all effective – but Rose wanted to give the young men of the kingdom incentive to attend.

  As the king’s widow, Rose dressed in black, though she added a few green embellishments. Green was her best color, after all. It brought out her eyes. Snow, on the other hand, wore a rich, dark blue gown. It was subdued enough to be called mourning but interesting enough to demand attention. And Snow desperately needed the attention tonight.

  After some speeches, the actual dancing began. Here, Rose specifically requested more somber music … but the somber music was also more romantic, which was exactly what Snow needed.

  Unfortunately, she couldn’t take part in the dancing herself, so Rose withdrew to a corner as the first song began, determined to content herself with mere observation. With luck, Snow would catch the eye of some young gentleman … one not too distracted by her promised crown.

  Snow really didn’t have the easiest time of it.

  “Ah, there you are, dearest little sister. Strange to see you all in black and sitting out the dancing.”

  Rose gave a small gasp of delight as she turned to see her eldest brother.

  “Roland! You came! I was afraid that you wouldn’t.”

  Her eldest brother grinned as he pulled her into a hug. “Well, there was some debate over whether or not it was prudent, but in the end, we all agreed that we needed to come and stand by you in your trying time. Besides, there was a certain hint in those invitations that Mother was determined that our brothers take advantage of. And, as you well know, we daren’t refuse mother, even though Noland probably destroyed any chances we might have had years ago.”

  “Noland?” Rose’s eyes widened at the mention of their second-eldest brother and her favorite. “What did he do?”

  “You were but a girl at the time. Frankly, I have little idea, as he’d never give the details,” Roland admitted. “It frankly doesn’t affect me at all. I already have my Star. I mostly came to keep Noland in line and to see how you’re doing. How are you doing, by the way? I honestly didn’t mean for you to become a widow at this young age. But … you know how mother is.”

  Rose gave something of a smile. “I know how mother is.” The smile melted in a sigh. “I’m more numb than anything else. The wedding was scarcely over before the king fell ill. Now I’m not even sure how I fit into things. How is Star, by the way?”

  “Star’s doing fine, and she sends her love,” Roland answered. “I heard a rumor that you organized this thing yourself. You did a fine job for your first ball.”

  Rose ducked her head, smiling again. “Well, I have helped mother since I turned eleven.”

  “And she would be proud of you, had she attended tonight,” Roland told her. “But she declared that we boys could represent the family just fine without her. You know how she is.”

  Rose sighed. “Oh, don’t I.”

  “Now, I’d love to talk to you all night – and I probably shall return soon, as I don’t intend to dance any more than you seem to – but Noland looks like he’s about to get into trouble. Do pardon me while I go to see if I can prevent that.”

  With that, Roland rushed away, leaving Rose fighting down giggles. Noland was always getting into trouble – it was why he was her favorite. Honestly, she didn’t know why Roland bothered, but he always did. Always tried to prevent it
, unfortunately, his attempts to “prevent” usually only made the problem worse.

  Her momentary mirth died, however, when she heard raised voices. Familiar voices that she normally didn’t hear at that pitch.

  “I declare, you aren’t one bit less insufferable after these last eight years. I only came by to tell you good evening and say how lovely you are tonight, your Majesty.” It was Noland, and no mistaking it.

  “Oh, don’t you dare start that, Noland,” came Snow’s hissing reply. “Pretending to care. You had an ulterior motive, and you know it.”

  Rose had never heard Snow raise her voice before, not even with Charmel.

  “And we won’t talk about your ulterior motives?” Noland threw back. “Such as the real reason for this ball? How is it going for you? Any better than your feeble attempts eight years ago?”

  Rose pushed through the crowd to find her brother and stepdaughter standing in the middle of the dance floor, close enough to kiss as they glared daggers at each other.

  Pretty much the last thing that she’d expected to see.

  “It was your sister who planned this tonight,” Snow spat at him. “If anyone has ulterior motives, it is her. In fact,” she drew back from Noland and fixed her scowl on Rose, “I personally believe that the whole affair is pointless.”

  She spun away, marched up to the dais, and swept the room with an imperious gaze before speaking. “I would like to thank everyone for coming tonight but am sorry to announce that this party is over. Good night, everyone. I am retiring to my rooms.”

  And with that, she swept out of the room.

  This was not how Rose had hoped for the night to turn out. She took a deep breath and marched up to her brother, hands folded over her chest. “Just what did you say to her?”

  Noland glanced down at her with a glare of his own. “I decided to be polite and told the insufferable woman ‘Good Evening,’ and she flew off the handle. I knew it was a mistake to come, but would Mother listen to me? No, she wouldn’t. I am surrounded by insufferable women.” With that, he stormed out of the room.