Snow White

Chapter 8

Hey,
Thanks for reading.
Last chapter was pretty intense, so this chapter is a little softer and didn't take such a long time to write.
Please vote and comment.
Enjoy,
Annabelle_the_reader
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At last, Snow White's body nauseated by the jolts and tremors of the horses bouncing along the highway without a care in the world, they reached the splendour of the capital city. Snow had long forgotten the beauty of the village compared to the monotonous rows of terrace houses, but the ironic splendour of the palace sickened her.

Their journey had lasted many hours, but there was still lingering thoughts invading her mind. Margarita let them go. She didn't send armies to fight them, or assassins to kill her escorts to the palace. She didn't even send horses to follow them. The roads were deserted and empty, something eerie lingered in the air.

Snow sat with her legs numb with the effort of riding for such lengths of time and her body hunched into a small ball, much like a small vole, and stared straight ahead.

Snow anxiously flattened the many corners or her vermilion streaked dress, gently swinging her carmine flat shoes. Snow wasn't sure if this crimson dress suited her, but it was the smartest dress that she could find to wear to see her parents.

Snow still knew nothing of why Margarita hated her to this extent, Snow had done nothing against her and she had tried to kill her. She was jealous of Snow. She hated Snow.

But Snow couldn't help herself but feel guilty. Leaving is only fun and pure when you leave something that mattered to you. Snow had lost her adoptive brother and all of her friends, leaving a whole in her heart that she was certain wouldn't heal until she saw them again. Leaving only feels righteous, Snow now realised, when you dig out your life from the roots.

Snow remembered when Liam would suggest that they left together to explore the world. He said that they would never have to worry again. He said that they would never have to cry again. He said that they would never regret again. He said that they would never feel trapped again. But never is an extensively infinite amount of time.

In their hours of riding, Snow and Ester had barely spoken throughout their journey, except to suggest a rest for their horses or a break or a snack. Ester just watched Snow inspect the surroundings with pity, sorrow and disbelief. She felt sorry for me. Eventually, when Snow thought that she would vomit all over her most expensive dress (but still much less than those she would soon get), they rounded a corner and a gasp escaped her lips.

After a millennium, they had pulled up in front of the impressive facade of the palace gates. Beyond them, was a drive surrounded by the largest garden Snow White had ever seen and the castles in the distance from the village seem so pathetic in comparison.

It was wide and open, sloping gently down to a cosmic-blue lake, complete with an array of exotic fish. A copse of cypress pines flanks us on one side, with a thicket of peaceful beeches standing guard on the other. Apple trees run through the centre of the garden, casting a lake of claw shadows onto the grass. As it is autumn, the fiery brilliance of their leaves is a sight: scorching-oranges, burning-browns and molten-reds drifting silently and carelessly to the ground.

Past the river there was a plush-green meadow which stretches away into vastness and a dragon-backed mountain. The fog that coiled around it seems as old, fey and grey as the mountain itself, an alien presence that can dampen any mood. When spring finally comes, arcipluvian rainbows drench the mountain with coloured fire and the light leaks into the garden.

Dozy hedgehogs totter as they get drunk on the last of the rotten apples. Butterflies flutter through the air with their velvet wings. Above them, a flock of starling's loop and reel like wind-tossed gunpowder. As the grass in the garden grows to Jurassic heights, pheasants cluck like cockerels and sprint like roadrunners, celebrating the arrival of spring.