by Eustacia Tan
She had seen a real apple before, on her one and only trip to the orchards. There, the farmers wore gloves and covered their noses and mouths for fear of something getting in. It was supposed to be a warning, but she couldn’t help but think that the deep red apples that grew there looked much better than the sugar-white candied fruits that sat on the table.
Even if they were poison.
*******
In her room, Lizzie ran her finger along her bookshelf, stopping at the book titled ‘Approved History’. Today would be history day with the decrepit tutor who could barely remember her name. He kept calling her Snow White as if she was her mom. Lizzie wrinkled her nose. She didn’t understand why her mom insisted on keeping him on. Pulling out the book, Lizzie grabbed a notebook and a pencil and headed to the study room.
Her study room was actually at the end of the hallway. But Lizzie preferred to exit through the nearest door and take the scenic route, which passed the kitchen. There, she could dawdle, exchanging gossip with Laura and sneaking a few bites of whatever Cook was whipping up. As she approached the kitchen, Lizzie took a deep breath. It smelled like pork soup. Perfect.
Lizzie was about to walk in and ask for some when she heard Laura talking with her mom. She stopped and pressed her ear agains the door. Perhaps Laura was helping her get the gossip she wanted about Marcelle.
“But mom, can’t you just give me a little hint?” Laura begged. Oh, this had to be about the Marcelle gossip. Laura was such a good friend.
“Definitely not,” Laura’s mom said severely. Lizzie could hear the warning tone in her voice. This was not going well, she wasn’t going to get her gossip! “Decent people like us shouldn’t be going near places like that.”
Place? What place?
“Please mom, I promise I won’t go there. Just tell me more about it. Lizzie and I heard their song this morning, but I couldn’t see an entrance.”
“You heard their song? You should be thankful that you and the princess didn’t get lured there. And if I ever hear you ask about the Goblin Market again, I’ll not only spank you, I’ll tell the Queen. Here, taste this soup, it’s for lunch.”
Lizzie could hear Laura slurping the soup and her mouth watered. Lovely warm soup with a loaf of freshly baked bread. Lunch was going to be good.
“It’s good mom, maybe a bit more salt?”
“How about this?”
Laura and her mother continued talking about lunch and Lizzie pouted. Some friend she was. She didn’t even ask about the rumours about Marcelle. Lizzie made her way to the study.
“Good morning, sir.”
The tutor looked up. If he wasn’t going to remember her name, she wasn’t going to remember his.
“Ah, princess, you’re here.”
Lizzie made a shallow curtsey, bobbing her head quickly. “ I apologise for keeping you waiting.”
The tutor gave her a watery smile. “Please don’t apologise to an old man like me, princess. You’re here, and that’s what counts. I know you young people, always rushing about but never on time for anything. Now, let’s see where we last stopped.” He opened his book and ran his finger down the inked page, stopping at the last line. He peered at the words, his nose touching the page. “Ah yes, you were asking,” he said as he straightened. “You were asking about the gap between your grandfather’s reign and your mother’s.”
Lizzie nodded. “Yes, there was an almost fifteen year gap, and the book made no mention of it.” She decided not to remind the tutor of his reaction. When she had asked her question, half-expecting some answer about a printing error, the tutor had stammered and left the room. And then her mom had come in and scolded her for upsetting him. That had not been a good day.
Clearing his throat, the tutor laid down his book and looked directly at Lizzie. This was a first. “Now, Princess Elizabeth,” he said, surprising her, “ I have thought long and hard about this, so trust me when I say that this is all I can tell you. I just hope that I don’t reveal too much.” The last sentence sounded more like it was for him.
“There were some issues, after your grandparents...left us,” the tutor continued. “Because of those...issues, your mother, Queen Snow White,” here, he stressed the word ‘Queen’, “was unable to ascend to the throne. She was only six. And such a dear little girl as well. I remember how she would excitedly run into the room and hug my leg, eager to learn.” The tutor fell silent.
“I know, everyone loved her as a kid. So, what happened? Why couldn’t she rule? We have a system don’t we? A council instead of a noble as a regent and all that.” She crossed her fingers, hoping that he wouldn’t notice her breaking the ‘no questions’ rule so soon.
“Yes, yes, that’s exactly what happened. The nobles very kindly stepped in. Your mom was only a little girl, and they decided to help take the burden of ruling from her.” He stopped after the explanation and slumped a little.
Well, it did make some sense. She had always suspected that Marcelle and the other noble’s entitled attitude came from something. And a regency during the Gap would make perfect sense.
“So how did my mom get rid of the regency? And how did she get them under control? Especially Lady Bella, she seems like a troublesome one.” It would be useful in finding out how to be a good queen. After all, the nobles went along with what her parents said, even if they did grumble a lot.
When the tutor didn’t answer, Lizzie repeated the question, this time a little louder.
There was still no response. Lizzie decided to switch it up a little.
“Sir, what about the fifteen-year gap? It seems so long. Was my mom unfit to rule in some way?”
Fire rose in the tutor’s eyes and he straightened his back. “Princess Snow has been fit to rule since she was a toddler,” he said solemnly, his eyes staring at something far away. Suddenly, he reached forward and grabbed hold of her hands. “Run, Princess Snow, run!” he whispered as his empty eyes stared into hers. “A friend of your mother will be waiting outside the city. His name is Heinrich and he’ll keep you safe. Don’t come back until I give the signal. Remember, you are the true heir, and you must stay safe. But above all, never trust the Nutcracker.”
Chapter 4
The next time he had a chance, Fin sneaked off. It wasn’t difficult — no one paid attention in the mines and even if they did, their voices wouldn’t be heard over the sound of rocks splitting open.
Who was that girl, Fin wondered as he wandered through the woods, searching for their dinner. He stopped by a cluster of berries and after checking that they weren’t poisonous, put them into a small satchel Doc had given him. After a night spent outside among the rough bushes, he was not about to make the same mistake twice.
Every night she haunted his dreams. That golden girl Snow. Or was it two girls?
Fin shook his head.
One or two, he had no idea. All he knew was that since that half-memory snuck into his head, he had been unable to get rid of it. A few times, he had caught Doc looking wonderingly at him, but there had been no chance to talk to him.
Sighing, Fin turned his attention back to the woods. The first time he snuck out — wait, had he snuck out before? — the woods seemed like a frightening place, even when the sun was high. Now, he felt comfortable among the flora and fauna. The squawking of the birds sounded melodious to him, and he could hear the babble of fresh water. Fin stopped and took a drink. As he walked, sunlight filtered through the trees, falling in patches to the ground below.
Fin wandered further, finally walking out of the woods with its dappled sunlight and entering a meadow. Flowers of red, purple, and every colour of the rainbow sprouted joyously from the ground. He didn’t know if they were edible, but he plucked one of each colour. Doc would be able to tell him. Probably. If anything, they would brighten up the cottage. Fin hunted for flowers of all kinds, his head never venturing above the tall grass. Suddenly, he bumped into something.
Rubbing his head, Fin looked up and saw a stone wall
. Unlike the field, it didn’t look friendly. There was something about the moss that grew around the irregularly shaped rocks that looked strange. Taking a careful look, he noticed that the flowers and grass ended a palm’s width before the wall.
Something told him to climb the wall, so he did. A wall like that posed no problems — his bare feet found footholds, and his hands automatically looked for stones he could grab a hold of. He had done this before, Fin realised. He frowned as a memory threatened to surface. Shaking his head, he swung his legs over the wall and into a garden. Like the meadow, this garden was full of brightly-coloured flowers. Unlike the meadow, the colours on these flowers looked too bright, too full of vitality to actually be real. The whole scene looked contrived.
Soft footsteps could be heard, and Fin quickly shimmied up a stately tree. The tree smelt of chocolate and caramel.
There was a land that smelt like this. A forest full of candy trees. Everything was fake, except for the thorns that grew all over him. Villagers screaming all around. Lights going out.
What was that? Fin tightened his grip around the branch he sat on, trying not to fall off.
He searched for the sound of the footsteps, and as he looked around the garden, Fin saw a girl with golden hair. Was that Snow? No, he decided, Snow felt kinder, and more vulnerable. This girl carried herself proudly, her head held high and her chest out. Fin grimaced. He had seen that gait somewhere. Some time. But where?
Opening his eyes, Fin watched the girl move across the garden. She stopped in front of a small bush and deftly grabbed its sides. She flung the bush to a side, showing that it was a mere case and revealing a small shelf. There was a small, ornate mirror propped up. Next to the mirror was a folded piece of red cloth. The girl took it and as she gently fastened it around her, Fin saw that it was a cloak.
Where had he seen that cloak before?
There was a young girl, her dress covered in blood, crying as the fairies put the cloak on her. Then they took her.
He look a closer look, squinting his eyes. Unlike the rest of this garden, the ground was barren. If the bush hadn’t been moved, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it.
The girl knelt down and patted the ground, as though she was checking for something. She was gentle at first, but ended up slamming her palms onto the dirt, causing the dirt to fly up and splatter her cream dress.
“Why won't any thorns grow?” she asked, her hands still hitting the soft ground.
Thorns?
Fin felt something sharp dig into his skin and he immediately let go. He landed with a soft thump on the grass.
“Who's there?” the girl called. She turned around, her silk dress rustling around her. Finn headed for the wall, his uninjured hand trying to stop the trickle of blood.
“Stop right there, or I will call for the guards.”
Fin paused. Her voice sounded so familiar.
“Good,” the girl said as she walked towards him, her eyes examining every inch of his body. “Now, who are you? And what is wrong with your hair?”
Fin immediately reached for his hair. It felt normal.
“I mean the colour.” Disdain dripped from her voice.
Fin shrugged. He did not know. He hadn’t washed his hair in a few days, but that was it.
“Okay,” the girl said slowly, “so how about the first question. Who are you? Answer me truthfully, or I’ll have you hauled to the city jail. We don’t take kindly to trespassers here.”
“I’m a dwarf,” Fin admitted softly.
Immediately, the girl’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “A dwarf? Does this mean you know how to enter the Goblin Market?”
Fin nodded.
“Perfect,” the girl said, a slow grin lighting up her face. “I’ve been looking for a way to get into the Goblin Market for ages. Everyone’s going to be so jealous when I make the deal before them.”
“Deal? What deal?”
“Like I’m telling a dwarf. I’ve heard about you guys. You’re goblins that were too weak to embrace their true natures. Just bring me there.”
“No,” Fin said. “I am not allowed back there, not unless I commit an act of evil.”
“Like I care what happens to you. I told you, I need to get to the market so that I can make a trade. Now, are you taking me to the market, or not? Remember, if you don’t, the city jail and probably torture await. My mother really hates intruders.” The girl’s eyes lighted up, and her pretty face became unbearably ugly. Her happiness at the threat was real.
“Are you taking me there or not?”
Fin nodded meekly, his stomach doing flip-flops. He had to stop her, but there was nothing he could do, not without risking Doc’s safety. The girl slipped her arm through his and grabbed him tightly.
“I knew you’d see things my way,” she said happily. “Now, we’re going out through the side paths, and if anyone asks, you’re a lovesick fool and I’m humouring you. I’m lady Marcelle if you have to refer to me.” She paused and looked at him closely, “Actually, you’re not that bad looking, if you fix your hair. If you were a noble, I might be all over you. Now, let’s go.”
He let her drag him through the garden and out of the house. They walked along a wide road and soon the city could be seen in the distance. The girl paused, but did not let go of Fin’s arm. Sighing, Fin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, thinking of the market. When he opened them, the path was clear. He walked forward, Marcelle clutching his arm tightly. When they were in the market, Fin braced himself. Marah was going to be furious at the fact that he left the mines.
The market was completely silent, the stalls waiting for the golden hours, where they would come alive and when customers would be willing to fool themselves into making deals.
“Perhaps we should go. It’s not safe, lady, lady—”
“Marcelle,” the girl said, turning her head towards him. “Or if you can’t remember the word ‘lady’, Princess. I’m the future princess of this country. Don’t even bother asking why I’m not in the castle, I’m not going to answer. And I don’t care. I’ll wait until sunset if needed.”
Fin nodded. “Understood.”
“Fin,” Marah said in her honeyed voice, as she walked up to them, “What are you doing here? Do you and your brothers have too much food? Are you here to ask for more work?”
“It’s not their fault,” Fin said, his head instinctively lowered. “Please forgive them.”
“Mmn. Maybe,” Marah said noncommittally. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow. But who do we have here? Aren’t you Lady Marcelle?”
Finally, Marcelle let go of Fin’s arm, and gracefully smoothened out her dress.
“Yes, I am Marcelle, and I would like to make a trade.”
“Really? Do you know that your mother used to be part of the ruling council.”
“Yes,” Marcelle snapped, but quickly looked as demure as possible. “I mean, she has mentioned it on occasion.”
Marah laughed and turned to Fin. “A customer like this is a rare find. You did well, Fin. Now, Lady Marcelle,” she said, turning to her and giving her a deep curtsey, “how may I help you?”
Marcelle preened at the curtsey. “Is there a place where we can talk? I’m afraid that I can’t give details about her in the presence of non-believers.”
“Please, come into my stall. I will open it just for you, seeing as how you are such a special customer,” Marah said and gestured to a stately stall, the entrance consisting of two long blood-red velvet curtains. She waved her hand and the curtains parted, revealing a plush chair. “Please go in and wait for a moment while I fetch some refreshments. Fresh fruit, something I’m sure you’ve never had, and something that is suited to someone of your stature. You,” she turned to Fin and her honeyed voice became a bark, “stay outside. If you want me to close a blind eye to you and that fool dwarf, you will bring the Lady Marcelle back to her house when all this is over. Although when it is over, it may be Princess Marcelle, am I right?”
&
nbsp; “I knew the goblins would help,” Marcelle said happily as she walked into Marah’s stall. Fin stayed outside, his eyes scanning the surroundings for a way to escape. As he looked at the entrance, he saw a flash of gold running away. He recognised her immediately, it was the other girl, Laura.
But what was she doing here?
Chapter 5
“Lizzie, dear, stop twisting your hands,” Snow White whispered, her eyes staring straight ahead. The advance party had announced that King Nutcracker and Queen Marie would be arriving soon. As soon as the royal family had heard the news, they and the entire palace had assembled at the palace gates to wait for them.
At her mother’s words, Lizzie stopped twisting her hands, and instead, clenched at the sides of her tulle skirt. At least the wrinkles wouldn’t show. “I hate this skirt,” she whispered. “It itches.”
“Your grandfather likes it on you. And more importantly, he gave it to you last year. It’s a good thing you can still fit in it, and remember—”
“I have to say thank you and act like I love it. I hate it, mom. I’m not his doll.”
“Stop acting like your father.”
Lizzie told herself that that no matter how much she hated the visits, her mother had to hate it even more. After all, as the goddaughter to the Nutcracker and Marie, she was subject to the most attention and the most criticism. At least, that’s what her father told her last night.
There was a slight shuffling noise as King White very slowly moved closer to his wife and child, his eyes still fixed straight ahead. “Where’s Laura?” he murmured, “Cook says she’s missing. You know how he gets if everyone isn’t here.”
Lizzie could feel both her parents trying to look at her. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “She didn’t come and help me change.” It had worried her but with the Nutcracker coming and the entire castle in a tizzy, she hadn’t had the time to worry. She had other priorities, like making sure that the dress didn’t itch. Suddenly, she smelled gingerbread.
“They’re here,” she whispered, and immediately, everyone put on their brightest smiles.
