The Evil Queen

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The Evil Queen Page 32

by Showalter, Gena


  Must take precautions. “What is your battle magic saying now?”

  Already pale cheeks became ashen. His inhalations turned shallow, coming more swiftly. “Evil...is a choice. Do not...make my...mistakes.” He reached for me, saying, “Battle magic says... I must die...so they can...live. This time...I listen.”

  I lurched back as far as possible, avoiding his fingers. “Don’t!”

  He simply followed me, closing in, finally brushing my cheek. Skin-to-skin. One touch, only one. A second later, his knees gave out and he crumpled, cracking his head on the floor. Blood pooled around him as he expelled his last breath.

  31

  Red wedding, stony heart...

  no longer will we be apart...

  I gripped the arms of the throne, blood leaving my frigid fingers in a frigid rush. Heart racing, I scanned my surroundings, noticing smallish mirrors hanging on every wall, strategically placed to give the sovereign a 360-degree view of the room. The blood-soaked wedding gown chilled me to the bone, and I shivered. The king’s body lay at my feet like some macabre offering. Somehow, I’d entered a nightmare from which I couldn’t awaken, one I would forever dub Schrödinger’s king.

  I had both healed and not healed Challen. I had both killed and not killed him.

  Loophole: he wasn’t sick if he was dead.

  Roth and Farrah would be devastated by his loss. The entire kingdom would be devastated. The evil sorceress would be blamed, and rightfully so. While I hadn’t purposely killed the king, I had purposely killed those witches—and I’d loved it. But...

  I might be a monster, but I didn’t regret my actions, or what had followed. Or maybe I did? I wasn’t sure what I felt anymore.

  The only thing I could do now? Fight to ensure no one else ever held my fate in their hands. I didn’t even want Fate to hold my fate. I wanted to run from this place, run and never look back.

  I had to try.

  I stood on wobbly legs and approached the wall of mirrors behind the throne, blanching when I had an up-close view of my reflection. Tangled flaxen locks just as blood splattered as my dress. Black lines ran through every inch of exposed skin as well as my eyes. I could be a poster girl for eerie.

  I wasn’t linked to anyone, so I wasn’t syphoning. But I had all the excess power stored up, desperate to be used. “Take me to the forest,” I muttered, reaching out. When my fingers encountered a solid block, I cursed. What I didn’t do? Give up—

  Not for a solid hour.

  With a screech, I pounded my fist into the glass. Despite the king’s death, Roth’s compulsion remained in effect. Until the prince returned, I couldn’t flee the palace.

  Stuck here. Timing unknown. Legs unsteady, I plodded back to the throne and drew my knees to my chest, feeling utterly alone.

  I wanted to hate Roth for everything that had happened. And maybe a small part of me did. The other part of me missed his ridiculous taxes, and how safe I’d felt in his arms.

  Torn in two yet again. My chin trembled, tears stinging my eyes. What was I doing, missing my stepson?

  Forget him. Focus! What to do? What, what? Pride wouldn’t let me cower or hide. These people had schemed to make me their queen; now they should have to deal with the consequences. I couldn’t lash out at Noel and Ophelia. Thanks to our hasty bargain, they had safe passage in my kingdom from now until forever. And, according to prophecy—

  The prophecy! Razors slashed at my chest, my lungs deflating. We’d reached a tipping point in the fairy tale. The time the Evil Queen tried to kill Snow White.

  I wouldn’t renege on my promise to Noel, so I wouldn’t be harming Farrah. But I would offer Fate a big screw-you and banish the girl.

  Evil is knowing what is right but doing what is wrong anyway.

  Evil is a choice. Do not make my mistakes.

  Mom would have been proud of me. Maybe. Probably. Challen would thank me. Would Foreverly agree with me?

  My tremors degenerated as I peered at the mirror closest to me. I waved my hand to unleash a stream of power and summon my staunchest (and only) ally. Instead, I somehow caused a pile of dirt to appear in the middle of the room. I frowned, then waved my hand again. Another pile of dirt appeared. Why did—

  Ahhh. I’d killed the witches and stolen their abilities. One—or all?—must have created dirt the way Farrah created ice.

  Their bodies still littered the dais, the sight of them scalding my eyes. I croaked, “Mirror.”

  Foreverly materialized, her friendly face making my heart swell. She wore a spectacular gown made of ivy and bloodred roses. Living snakes coiled around her forearms, and spidorpions hung from her ears.

  “My, how things have changed,” she said. “From prisoner to queen, an army at our beck and call.”

  Yes, but just as quickly as I’d gained the title, I’d lost it. “How is Hartly?” Hours had passed since I’d last checked in.

  Foreverly tilted her head, listening to whispers I couldn’t hear. “The troll commander had hoped to tame her, then use her to draw you out, but she continues to defy and intrigue him. He spends his time fighting his attraction to—quote unquote—the hideous mortal.”

  I stiffened. If only I’d had such success with Roth. “If the commander bites her—”

  “He knows he’ll lose her.”

  “Show her to me.”

  Ripples. A spacious tent. Hartly faced away from me, feeding treats to birds, rabbits, deer and foxes. Darling sister. Miss you so much. No sign of the troll commander.

  A fluffy bunny nipped her finger, and she laughed. A genuine sound of amusement, layered with zero concerns. My relief doubled. “Show me Roth.”

  Foreverly resurfaced, saying, “He is beyond our sphere. Ophelia hides him.”

  I would summon her for a chat, then. Later, after I’d dealt with my Farrah problem. “Are you ready to face our foes?”

  “Ready, willing and able. All your life, you have hated how others fear you. Now you need that fear. Use it.”

  Yes! “Guards!” I readjusted my crystal crown. “Guards, get in here.” Head up. Shoulders back. Spine fused with steel. Legs down. Ankles crossed. Casual but authoritative. I twirled one quaking finger, an illusion of cold disdain settling over my features, masking my ashen cheeks and wild eyes.

  Just in time. The double doors were thrown open, two soldiers plowing inside the chamber.

  The moment the carnage registered, they ground to a halt.

  Though I wanted to fold into myself and explain what had happened, I announced, “I am your sovereign, crowned this very day. Kneel before me or suffer.”

  Radiating disbelief and dismay, they looked from the bodies to me. Me to the bodies. Back and forth, again and again. Ultimately, they sank to their knees.

  Get this over with. “You will find the princesses Farrah and Truly, the maid Annica and the fairy Vikander. You will bind their arms behind their backs and bring them here.”

  “The likelihood these soldiers will obey? Abysmal,” Foreverly said. “They revere the royal family, especially the princesses. Unless forced, they will never willingly endanger the Charmaines.”

  I doubted the men could hear her; their expressions never changed.

  I would have to use force. Groaning inside, I said, “If you fail me, others will suffer.” Others—like myself. “I can imprison your families. You can listen to their screams of pain.” Not a lie. We could do those things. But we wouldn’t.

  The men paled.

  Foreverly told me their names, as well as the names of their loved ones, and I repeated the information. They shook with fright.

  “Shall I go on?” As tightly as I squeezed the throne, I expected my knuckles to split my skin at any moment. I comforted myself with the knowledge that I would make up for every terrible act I committed as soon as I’d secured my safety.

  �
��No need. We understand the consequences of disobedience,” one guard assured me. “We will complete our mission.”

  “You will complete your mission...what?” I demanded, playing my part. Cold, callous.

  “Y-your Majesty,” the other stuttered.

  “That’s right. I am Queen Everly, your majesty. I will be a benevolent ruler, you’ll see. I offer competitive overtime rates and incomparable medical insurance.” Though they looked confused by my words, I shooed them off. “Go. Fetch. And spread the word. Anyone who doesn’t wish to serve the new queen may leave my kingdom or die.” Again, not a lie. At some point, everyone died.

  A guard motioned to the sea of dead bodies, saying, “Would you like us to...”

  Cold. Callous. “Leave them.” For now. Let Farrah think the worst of me, like everyone else. “A girl should enjoy her handiwork, yes? Now, go!”

  They raced off, and I sagged against the throne. Would they ditch the palace, gather their families and run? Maybe they would return with the entire army and attack me.

  I should prepare. Weapons, I needed weapons, just in case my magic faltered. I swept my gaze over the king and whimpered, guilt rising. Focus. Two daggers hung from his belt.

  Feeling gutted, I leaned down and drew a blade from its sheath. Then, I waited. When the guards came back, I shot to my feet, my heart a cannonball against my ribs. An army had tagged along, and each man thrummed with aggression.

  I raised the dagger—

  The prisoners! Astonishment and satisfaction unfurled. Farrah, Truly, Vikander and Annica were clustered together, their hands bound behind their backs. They glared at me as if I’d just had them imprisoned...oh, wait.

  The fact that I’d given an order and the guards had obeyed...well, that was big. Huge! My reward for having power, and oh, the headiness. For a moment, I forgot the tragic events I’d endured to get here. Only a moment.

  Roycefus pushed his way to the front of the group, the disappointment in his gaze giving me a major case of the pangs. “Your Majesty,” he began. “I must council you against—”

  “I like you, Roy, I really do. But if you do not hold your tongue, you will join the ones you seek to protect.” Can’t trust him. Can’t trust anyone.

  He quieted. Good. I’d meant what I’d said. I did like him, and I didn’t want to kick him out.

  When the group stopped just below the dais, I disregarded the ragged, gnawing pain in my chest and told the guards, “Help the prisoners kneel before their new queen.”

  Though the foursome fought, they couldn’t defeat the masses and crashed to their knees. My satisfaction deepened. Truly and Farrah were disheveled, hair tangled, lips swollen, gowns wrinkled. No doubt my summons had interrupted snuggle time.

  Annica bowed her head and sobbed.

  Vikander was shirtless, his pants unfastened, his lips as red and puffy as the princesses’. Snuggle time had been interrupted for him, as well. Far from cowed or upset, he looked somewhat proud—of me. Which I didn’t understand! He’d borne no love for the king?

  Doesn’t matter. I had four prisoners—Snow White, the Huntsman, and two of the seven. I needed to smoke the other protectors out before they had a chance to ambush me.

  One problem at a time.

  I peered at Farrah and suddenly understood why the Seven Dwarves had sung their song. “Hi...ho.”

  Farrah pleaded with her eyes. “I know you are angry with us, Everly, but—”

  “Anger doesn’t begin to describe it,” I interjected.

  “You must—” She looked down, noting her father’s body for the first time. His blood had begun to congeal, turning black. A scream ripped from her. She attempted to scramble to her feet and launch forward. Per my order, the guard held her in place.

  Guilt pulverized me, and regret slashed me. Mask in place? Reveal nothing.

  “How could you do this?” Truly demanded.

  I rallied quickly. “Me? How could you? To save his life, the king had to end mine. I was to be a sacrifice. But you knew that, did you not? Perhaps you even wanted me dead?”

  “No!” she shouted, but I didn’t believe her. Fight the pain.

  When Farrah choked on her sobs, my twin nuzzled her cheek, offering comfort. All the while, she glared at me.

  Hate me? Get in line.

  Knowing my life depended on my next actions, I stood slowly, regally, and announced, “Because of your actions, I was crowned Queen of Sevón. You caused this. Part of me wants to kill you for it. However, my dear, departed husband of five seconds used his dying breath to beg for mercy—for his children. I have decided to honor his wishes.” I made no mention of my vow to Noel.

  Everyone scrutinized me as if I were a viper poised to strike. I couldn’t fault them. A viper by any other name...

  “Truly,” I said, “you will move into my old room.” The Huntsman would not be aiding Snow White, and Snow White would not be turning on the Huntsman, if ever she learned of Truly’s connection to the sorcerian. Added bonus: if Snow White feared for her girlfriend’s life, she would not attack the palace.

  A gaggle of protests sounded, each at a different volume.

  I spoke over them. “Farrah, Vikander and Annica, you are hereby banished from my kingdom.”

  More protests.

  “If I were as evil as you,” I said, “I would cut off your hands before sending you off, hobbling you the way you hobbled me.” The temptation... “If you dare return for any reason, I will slay you without a moment’s hesitation.”

  32

  Just when you get bored,

  in comes the horde.

  Queen of Sevón

  Day 1

  Roycefus summoned a witch who had the power to teleport big groups—not Ophelia, thank goodness. To get her to help, I had to pay with a vow. As long as she didn’t turn on me, I would not syphon from her.

  Overflowing with power, I remained seated on my throne and peered into the mirror, observing as the witch deposited Farrah, Vikander and Annica in the Enchantian Forest. I also watched a set of guards escort Truly to her room in the tower.

  By the time my enemies were settled in their new homes, the black lines had disappeared from my skin. I could no longer use magic without syphoning.

  Rather than link with someone else, I focused on the remaining guards and stood. “I want a patrol sent to the Enchantian Forest to search for Prince Roth and Saxon. They are hidden by magic. Find and help them. I expect daily reports of your progress. You are not, I repeat, not to bring them back or kill any sorcerian in the process.” Nicolas and Tyler were still hunting for Hartly, and I wanted nothing to interfere with that.

  They nodded and dashed off.

  “You,” I said to Roycefus. “Escort me to Prince Roth’s private bedchamber.” I wanted privacy and a bath. What better place?

  “Of course. This way.” He led me from the throne room, saying, “We should discuss your schedule. As queen, you have many duties.”

  Was he serious? “Don’t act as if you’re glad I’m in charge.” Part of me still expected him—everyone—to side with Farrah. I remained on alert, lest anyone decided to attack.

  “What do feelings matter? Challen made you queen. Long ago, I vowed to serve the royals, whoever they happened to be.” He chatted about upcoming meetings, barely pausing to breathe.

  When he spouted off rules of comportment for queens but not kings, I held up my hand to stop him.

  “I will do what I want, when I want,” I said. “In my queendom, girls have the same rights and privileges as boys.”

  As soon as we reached the bedroom, I shut the door in his face, ending the conversation and barricading myself inside. After everything that had happened, I needed a moment alone to breathe and to be, or I would snap.

  The room’s splendor staggered me. A square dais had four massive pillars made of mar
ble, one in each corner. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, directly over the bed. Roth’s scent wafted from the sheets. A padded bench rested against the bed’s footboard, the legs carved to resemble dragons. Beside the solid gold nightstands were potted plants. The hearth crackled with flames; the servants must have expected Roth’s return. No artwork decorated the walls to reveal the prince’s aesthetic preferences. Why?

  A cold breeze whisked through an open bay of windows leading to a balcony that overlooked the surrounding mountains. A wet bar contained various bottles of whiskey. How many times had he entertained Annica?

  My hands fisted. Atop the desk were stacks of paper and a metronome.

  I picked up one of the books. Annals of Enchantia, Volume 111. As I thumbed through the pages, I found a copy of “Snow White and the Evil Queen.” Roth had highlighted it, as well as a copy of “Snow White and Rose Red,” and added a handwritten note. Are the two tales linked?

  SWARR featured two sisters raised by a loving mother. One day, the siblings freed a ferocious bear from a trap. Later, they freed an evil dwarf from the same trap. Despite their good deed, the dwarf tried to kill them, and would have succeeded if the bear hadn’t returned to kill the dwarf. When Rose Red kissed the bear in thanks, he turned into a handsome prince, his curse lifted. The two married soon after. Snow White married his brother.

  There were definite parallels between the story and my life. The couples: me and Roth, Truly and Farrah. Like the bear, Roth considered his magic a curse. Like the evil dwarf, Farrah lashed out at me after I was kind to her.

  Roth had studied other fairy tales, even the ones that had nothing to do with his own. He’d written notes about the ones he believed had been activated in each of the four kingdoms. “Beauty and the Beast.” “The Little Mermaid.” “Cinderella.” “Sleeping Beauty.” “Rumpelstiltskin.” “Hansel and Gretel.” “The Frog Prince.” And “The Swan Princess.”

  Though intrigued by the others, I returned my focus to “Snow White and the Evil Queen.” As I’d been told, both mother and stepmother were used interchangeably to describe the Evil Queen, and the Seven Dwarfs were touted as the Seven Protectors. No mention of true love’s kiss. There was a fairy godfriend slash witch who popped up any time Snow White required aid.

 

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