Snow White and the Seven Dwarves

1 - Snow White

Snow White

Stop. It can't possibly be morning already. The cold, dark air hurts my throat and makes it hard to breathe. The sun is too much of a coward to show itself so I curl up into a ball, clutching my thin blanket as tight to me as I can. 

A horse whinnies at me in warning, but I ignore it. The birds are outside, singing. They can't be singing now, it's too early. I just went to sleep.

The horse whinnies again, louder this time. It's almost six in the morning, he tells me. The stableboy will be here soon. I'll be severely punished if he sees me here, but my body refuses to move.

It can't be morning. I didn't even get any sleep. The thought makes my throat clog up, eyes pricking with tears. I finally open them.

The horses are rearing their heads me. They want me to leave, so I don't get in trouble again. I should leave. I have to bathe and dress and be in the kitchens by six. But I don't want to bathe. The river would be freezing right now. All my clothes are dirty – I keep forgetting to wash them.

But the stableboy will be here soon. And as one of the lower ranking servants under the queen, he has no one to take his anger out on but me. The thought is motivating enough to help me grab my blanket and hide it under the hay in one of the horse's stables. This horse, Geoff, is one of the nice ones. He'll keep it safe for me.

Two doves greet me on my way out of the stables. I rush to the palace gardens, trying to warm myself under the freezing air before anyone can see me, and head to a tiny abandoned shed. It hides at the edge of the overgrown forest.

It's a nice shed. Too small for me to sleep in, too cold to have much use. But since no one else needs it, I can keep my clothes inside. I hang a thick, woolen gown – the warmest thing I own – on the ceiling, and use a short club to beat the dust out since I don't have time to properly wash it.

It makes me sneeze a couple times and I'm lightheaded by the time I put it on. Grabbing a rag, I manage to make it to the well at the center of the garden to scrub my face, hands, and teeth.

It's enough to look respectable for the queen. Enough for the castle staff, Hilda especially, to stay off my back. The birds remind me that it's only five minutes till six.

My voice is hoarse when I hand them the rag. "Can you take this back to the shed?"

They agree, holding the cloth as tight as possible, and flying off.

Hilda is the head housekeeper – or, palace-keeper, I suppose. Short, stout, kind blue eyes and light brown hair. She's a saint to anyone who talks to her. A motherly figure for the younger members of the staff with an endless patience for anyone and everyone.

Except for me. Somehow, I've become the devil incarnate for Hilda as she waits at the servant's entrance.

"You're late," she hisses. "Think you're too good to show up on time, Your Highness? A princess is used to having everyone wait on her, isn't she?"

The claims make me want to sigh, but that will only anger her. Refuting them, I've learned, does nothing. So, instead I say, "I'm not late. It's six o'clock."

As if to vouch for me, the grandfather clock begins its chiming.

"The rest of the staff are to show up at six. You are to show up at five thirty."

No, I'm not. She made that up this morning – it's something she likes to do when she's in a bad mood. Usually after the queen has yelled at her about something.

"I apologize," I say. "I'll begin arriving early tomorrow."

She scoffs. "Typical. You know, you're lucky Her Gracious Majesty allows you to remain on castle grounds. If I had things my way, you'd be begging for scraps on the street like a stray dog."