Red as Snow

by Kendra E. Ardnek

  By the time Rose had made sure everyone either found rooms to stay in or their carriage home, Snow had locked herself in her bedroom, and would not answer the door for anyone. Rose, then, had no choice but to retire to bed herself and hope that the future would be in better spirits the next day.

  Rose did not expect a summons to Snow’s rooms almost as soon as she awakened the next morning. The tone of said summons seemed even more crisp and unpleasant than normal, which set her on edge as she hastened to comply.

  She found Snow seated at her desk, reading over more papers.

  “I spoke with your eldest brother last night,” Snow stated, without bothering with any form of greeting or to even take her eyes off of the paper. “We have both agreed that it would be best if you returned with them to your estate.”

  Rose’s stomach twisted, and she took a step forward. “But—”

  Snow finally looked up to fix Rose with an icy glare. “You’re too young to be a widow. There’s no reason for you to spend the next wandering about these halls like a ghost in your black veils. It’d be best all around if your mother and brothers found you a new husband who will have an opportunity to actually be your husband. I do apologize for the inconvenience that these last few months have been for you.”

  Rose frowned. “What about you?”

  “I shall have peace and quiet,” Snow declared, “and might actually be able to find a husband if I don’t have a younger, prettier stepmother distracting my suitors. Didn’t you notice that everyone stared at you last night? If you hadn’t been the king’s widow, your night would have been filled with dancing. Not a single man asked me. Your fool of a brother was the only one to even look my way.”

  “Noland?” Rose wrinkled her nose. “Why were you so mad at him last night? I didn’t know that it was possible to be mad at him. Annoyed, yes, but that mad? And I’ve known him my whole life!”

  “You are also his younger sister and are thus blind to his faults.” Snow turned back to her papers. “Now, your brothers are leaving tomorrow morning, so I advise you to begin your preparations.”

  “But…” Rose gave a long sigh, realizing that protest was in vain. Snow had made up her mind, and as queen – or should-be queen – she was the one in charge. Rose hesitated just a few moments more before dashing out of the room and back to her own.

  She dramatically threw herself onto her bed – if ever there was a moment for drama, this was it, though it was a pity that she had no audience to observe it. All she wanted was to help Snow, but her step-daughter wouldn’t let her. They only had two weeks left before Charmel would have his way!

  She shuddered at the thought of that snake. How had she ever admired him?

  “Poor Snow,” she whispered.

  Rose knew the woman’s position was difficult, but why couldn’t Snow understand that shutting out the people who wanted to help her would only hurt her? And what had happened between her and Noland? Why did they dislike each other so thoroughly? That was not like either of them. Snow was usually so reserved, and Noland so laid back.

  Well, there was nothing Rose could do anymore. It wouldn’t be her fault when Charmel was king. With new resolve, she stood and went to her desk to gather her things. She was leaving the castle tomorrow. Perhaps it would be best if she put those last few months out of her head as nothing but an interesting experience. Sure, she’d have to live with Charmel as king, but would that really be so bad?

  She opened a drawer, and a whispering immediately filled the room. Her eyes widened as she looked down to see the mirror Charmel had given her and she’d promptly forgotten. With shaking hands, she picked it up and stared into the glass that swirled even fiercer than before. There was no trace of her own reflection

  “What are you?”

  The swirling suddenly stopped and formed itself into a face that was decidedly not hers. Too angular and expressionless.

  “I am the answer to your questions,” it whispered.

  Rose squeaked and nearly dropped the mirror. “You…”

  “Poor, little Rose, so lost and alone in the world, and now your selfish stepdaughter has banished you from your rightful home,” it continued.

  “Snow isn’t selfish,” Rose protested. “She knows that my life is messed up and wants me to have a chance to start over and pretend this never happened,” Rose answered.

  She felt in no way silly for arguing with this mirror. She argued with mirrors all the time. They just didn’t usually argue back.

  “She knows your beauty outshines hers,” the mirror continued. “She’s jealous of you.”

  “There’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “Perhaps there is. Would you like to do something about it?” Swirling mists overwhelmed the face again.

  Rose frowned. “I already tried giving her a ball – it was the only thing I could think of. She sulked the whole time, but then got into an argument with my brother and called the whole thing off. I don’t know what to do about her.”

  The swirling mist formed into an image of her handing something to Snow.

  “Give her an apple before you leave, and it will solve all problems,” the mirror told her, and then the mists cleared so that it showed her own face just as any mirror would.

  Rose looked up and saw a red apple on her desk, shiny and bright. It had not been there before, and there was something sinister about it. Charmel had given her the mirror and he couldn’t have meant anything good by it.

  Still, what harm could a mere apple do?

  The next morning found Rose bundled into her family’s carriage, sandwiched between her two next-oldest brothers Poland and Woland. Snow had been surprisingly acceptive of the apple, though Rose wasn’t sure that the woman had even noticed the fruit in her hand. She’d been too busy glaring at Noland.

  What was it between them?

  Noland was now sulking in his corner, not paying attention to any of their other brothers, who were all laughing and joking with each other. This wasn’t like him at all.

  “Mother won’t be happy to have you return with us,” Roland commented at length, turning his attention to Rose. “She was so thrilled to secure your marriage with the king, and now…”

  Rose frowned. “Well, I can’t help that he was so old.” She glanced down at her lap and fidgeted with the embroidery in her skirt.

  “Or that his daughter was so uptight and insufferable,” Noland muttered from his corner.

  “What happened last night?” Roland asked, glancing towards him. “The party was going well enough until the two of you started arguing.”

  Noland’s frown darkened as he glowered out the window. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “It’s been eight years,” prompted Goland, the third-oldest brother. “That’s surely time enough for old wounds to heal.”

  Noland sent Goland a glare. “You’d think, but apparently not.” He closed his eyes. “I had hoped that it’d been long enough, but … no.”

  “Just what did happen eight years ago?” asked Foland, the fourth-oldest. “It must have been pretty terrible, the way you both still go on about it.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Rose took that as her cue to prattle about anything else. Sure, she was as curious as any of them, but they were just upsetting Noland. So, she talked about the grandeur of the castle, all of the rumors that had filled the place, speculated on the next party … pretty much anything and everything that didn’t mean anything. She was quite pleased that her skills at talking for hours about seeming nothing were finally coming in handy.

  She fell silent only as they neared home, a grand manor estate that almost rivaled the castle in size. And, of course, their mother, Lady Ash, was already waiting for them in the courtyard. Roland shared a glance with Noland, and then with Rose, all in silent agreement that she should be the last one to disembark.

  Mother gushed over each of each of her sons as they left the carriage, though Noland seemed to receive the least
of it. When Rose finally left the carriage, mother’s smile flickered into a frown. Roland jumped in before she could say anything, however.

  “The Princess thought that Rose might recover from loss quicker among familiar faces,” he explained. “She was feeling quite lost in all of the politics, you see.”

  Mother faltered a moment and then turned to Rose with a sympathetic smile. “I suppose these times must be so trying for you, and you could hardly expect the princess to want her stepmother hanging about the place, not when you’re so young and pretty.”

  Rose pinched her lips together. “You really can’t blame her.”

  Mother shook her head. “You poor thing. Come along, come inside. Let’s get you some tea so you can warm up. Would you like to talk about it?”

  As her mother’s arm curled around her shoulders, Rose realized with a pang that this was the first time that she’d ever received such caring attention from her mother.

  “I … guess so,” she admitted, even as they found themselves in a sitting room. “Snow wasn’t bad, as far as stepdaughters older than you go. And as for the king … well, he fell sick the day after the wedding. He never got a chance to be my husband. I just…”

  “I suppose it’s my fault,” said Mother. “I saw only the opportunity, not how awkward it might be for you. But now, as the king’s widow, you could easily become a political pawn. Perhaps it’s best that you’ve come back here, where we can keep an eye on you. Give the princess a chance to transition into queendom alone.”

  “If she gets to be queen,” Rose muttered.

  “What was that?”

  “The point of the ball,” Rose said, louder. “There’s apparently a law that a queen can’t rule unless she’s married. And Snow isn’t. Her cousin has given her until the end of four weeks to choose a husband or forfeit to him. The four weeks are halfway gone. That’s why I threw the ball, but then she and Noland got into a big argument and she called the whole thing off.”

  Mother shook her head as she sank down onto a sofa, bringing Rose with her. “Love is always messy. Involve politics and it’s a nightmare. I know your father…”

  “I don’t even get why they were arguing,” Rose continued. “According to Noland, all he did was tell her good day. Roland says that something happened eight years ago, but Noland refuses to talk about it.”

  Mother tilted her head to the side. “As I said, love is a nightmare when politics are involved.”

  Rose’s eyes widened. “You mean…”

  “Oh, they kept it secret enough, eight years ago, but a mother always knows,” Mother answered. “She was always a private thing, and as princess, you know that every affair she had was hung out to dry and painted a thousand times worse than it actually was. But I fear that its secrecy was its downfall. He saw no reason to curb his friendliness with other girls, and she became jealous – and I have no doubt that her cousin might have been whispering in her ear making things seem worse than they were.”

  “So … they just called it off? But why would they argue like that?”

  “Because they both still care, and each thinks that the other doesn’t,” Mother answered. “I think he had hoped that eight years had been time enough to heal her wounds, but it seemed not.”

  “Especially not with her cousin breathing down her neck and her father gone,” Rose mused. “Oh, I see now, I see so clearly. Poor Noland. Poor Snow. Whatever shall we do?”

  “You threw a ball, and I made sure that Noland went; it may be that we’ve both already done everything we can,” Mother answered. She shook her head.

  “And I don’t think that Snow will sit by and just let Charmel be king,” Rose continued. “If she has to, she will marry him.” She frowned as she thought of the mirror and the apple that it had her give to the princess.

  It was at that moment that Oland, Rose’s third-older brother rushed into the room. “A messenger just arrived from the castle. He says that the princess was poisoned, and they’re blaming Rose.”

  Not knowing what else to do, Rose jumped up off the couch and fled the room.

  She found Noland in the garden, pacing up and down its length with a vengeance. Just the brother she’d wanted to find.

  “Noland!” she shouted, running up and grabbing his sleeve. “You love Snow!”

  He whirled around to face her, seemed angry for a moment, and then deflated. “Yes, what of it? She clearly doesn’t love me back. I’ve done everything I can to prove that my feelings are genuine, but she won’t give me the time of day.”

  “The way she yelled at you at the ball was certainly something,” Rose answered, tucking her hands behind her back.

  “Maybe she does still care, but she’s stubborn and thinks she’s always right,” Noland answered, turning back around. He shrugged. “It’s easier for me to believe that she doesn’t care at all.”

  “I … I think there may be a way,” Rose admitted, pushing herself to her toes. “A messenger just came from the castle, said that she was poisoned. I think it was magic poison.”

  He turned back around to face her with a raised eyebrow. “And how do you figure that?”

  “Because they think I poisoned her, and I think they might be right,” Rose hastily explained. “See, Charmel gave me this magic mirror, and the mirror gave me an apple that was supposed to fix things for Snow. I gave Snow the apple, and that must be what poisoned her.”

  “And how do you think that poison would help us?” Noland asked.

  “True love’s kiss!” Rose declared. “It’s magic, Noland, and true love’s kiss is always the cure. Haven’t you ever read?”

  Noland just stared at her for a long moment, then glanced hastily about the garden. “I need to get to the castle.”

  “Yes, you do,” Rose agreed.

  “Sneak over the wall and meet me on the road,” he instructed, nodding to the garden wall behind him. “If they’re blaming you, they’re probably here to arrest you.”

  “So … you’re just going to take me with you?”

  “Why not? At the very least, you’ll be there to claim your innocence. I don’t trust that Charmel. I never have.”

  And, with that, Noland ran from the garden to the stable. Rose grinned. Things were getting exciting!

  Climbing over the wall was more difficult that Rose had always imagined, and she tore her hands and skirts on the rose thorns that she used to make her ascent, but she made it over and found Noland waiting for her below on his horse. He lifted her onto the steed behind them, and they took off.

  Rose held tight to her brother, lest she fall off, for he rode at a speed like she’d never ridden before. He was desperate to set things right between him and Snow, and she knew he would succeed.

  He did slow, soon enough, knowing that it would do no good to tire the beast completely. They still said nothing between them until they saw the castle rising before them.

  “We’ll go in through the secret passage,” Noland told her, finally. “I doubt they’ll let you in through the gate without arresting you.”

  “Secret passage?” Rose repeated.

  “Snow showed it to me, so I could visit her without anyone suspecting,” Noland answered. “I was in a secret relationship with her, remember?”

  They dismounted, tied the horse to a tree, and then entered by way of an old supply tunnel that hadn’t been used in centuries. Rose clung tightly to Noland’s hand as they made their way through the darkness. She hoped that they wouldn’t be too late. Hoped that she was right and that a kiss would truly be enough to wake Snow.

  She didn’t think to hope that Charmel wouldn’t be waiting be waiting for them at the end of the tunnel. She should have, for that was exactly what the slimy prince was doing, accompanied by several guards.

  “How predictable,” he said, smiling dangerously. “Not content with poisoning our beloved princess, you’ve brought back your brother. Do you know? He had a thing for her, back in the day. I bet you do know, though. That’s why you’ve bro
ught him. For the sick and twisted purpose of trying to steal her back.”

  Rose ducked behind her brother, though she glared at Charmel. “The only person here with sick and twisted purposes is you. It was your mirror that gave me the apple.”

  “And now you go, hurling accusations.” Charmel clucked his tongue and shook his head. “It doesn’t become a lady.”

  “You’re one to talk,” she hissed back. “You’re no gentleman.”

  That seemed to make Charmel angry, as he stalked forward and grabbed Rose by the arm. “Even if the apple is my doing, and I won’t say that it is or isn’t, do you think that I would make it so that just any kiss could awaken her? No, I’m hardly that stupid. I’ve placed her in a glass coffin in the courtyard, and after mourning her a couple days, I’ll be the one to wake her up, that way there will be no doubt in anyone’s mind that I should be king.”

  Rose swallowed and shared a glance with Noland, whose hand was hovering on the hilt of his sword. “Don’t worry about me,” she hissed. “Go to Snow. We can’t let Charmel win.”

  Noland seemed reluctant, but then he turned and ran, drawing his sword to fight through the guards.

  “Let him go,” said Charmel, calmly. “He’s not the one that we need to be worried about.”

  Rose squeaked as his grip tightened on her arm. “You’re not going to get away with this. Snow knows you’re a snake.”

  “True, true, quite true,” Charmel admitted, hissing in her ear again. “Perhaps I don’t need her at all. Leave her asleep, declare her dead, and the throne will go to me by default. Then I’ll be free to pick a far more reasonable, prettier queen. Perhaps you, my dear.”

  “Where did you get it into your head that I was reasonable,” she hissed back.

  There were things a girl learned, growing up with seven older brothers. Rose jabbed him with her elbow, tearing herself from his hold as he gasped in pain. Then she ran. The soldiers, thankfully, didn’t make a move to apprehend her – they were gentlemen, at least – but she could hear Charmel following, once he’d caught his breath.