Poisoned

Hired

Queen

Chapter Two

I pace around the room, contemplating ideas around in my head. I stare at myself in the mirror, touching my eyes and cheeks. I am beautiful, as always. Not one person is more beautiful than I.

Finally, I turn to the mirror and breathe. I smooth my dark skirts out, the deep blue turning my skin milky and soft. “Mirror mirror, on the wall. Who is fairest of them all?” I say the words with a dark sound to them, turning simple words to a dark void.

A face appears in front of me, the mask a pale, ghostly white without a flaw. I was once jealous of the beautiful creature, then learned he is nothing but a dead man's face, doomed to an eternity of service to the mirror. His voice is wispy and smooth as silver, “My Queen, your beauty is a wonder,” he says. “But there has come a day that one has become fairer than you.”

My heart stops and stutters, then starts beating an unfamiliar tune. “What? Who?”

It comes in a low voice. “Snow White.”

My breathe draws in sharp and crisp. My eyes narrow as I spy at the glass. “Not possible. She was killed during the raid, my best man did it himself.”

“My Queen, he lies to you,” he says. “Snow White still lives, in your woods outside the kingdom barriers. She enters the kingdom many times.” Then, the face dissolves and a picture fades into the mirror. In the woods, a young man lays on the ground, a dying ember glowing next to her. Hair darker than charcoal swirls around her face, skin paler than snow, lips red as blood. Her face is dirty, tear streaks running down her cheeks, but even like this I can see who it is. She has the same face as her father, same dark hair.

Music fills the halls. I walk behind the two young girls, one with golden hair and the other with night black. They walk gracefully, their posture straight and faces beautiful, though I cannot see them. The younger one – the golden-haired one – stands at a short height, her hands gripping the small bouquet of clovers. Her hair has been pulled into a high bun, the pink-white dress falling to the ground. She seems small, but her eyes can scare the strongest swordsman.

The older girl is absolutely beautiful. Unlike her sister, she walks with her back up straight, her hands on the hilt of a sword at her hip. She is dressed in a more elegant form of her sister's dress. It hangs on her shoulders and is a flat skirt that follows barely behind. She has her hair curled and loose, falling at her elbows. I cannot take my eyes off her.

When I reach the King, I see he and his daughter look just alike. The elder girl stands at his side now, and his hand is holding his sword just as she is. The younger girl looks almost nothing like them, because the only resemblance is in the brown eyes that glow.

But, what I really see is that everyone is smiling but the black-haired girl. She has a hard face and stands protective by her sister. She will be first to die.

I had not a word to say. My best man, Legan, had not killed her. He betrayed me.

“My Queen,” the voice interrupts. I snap my head over, muddy blonde strands falling from the intricate braid on my head. I see Snow White, but not as herself. A hat cover all her hair, trousers and a shirt instead of a gown. She looks like a man. “Beware, the people have no idea of her existing. They are only aware of the strange man named Sam that wanders alone. If the people learn the princess still lives, the heir to the throne, they will rise above. And you will fall.”

My heart stops again, not feeling anything than panic. If I fall, I die. “She needs to die. I cannot fall, Mirror, how do I stop this?”

The white mask glows, and a completely different picture appears on the mirror. It is of a man in the king-dom, the master swordsman. He is nineteen, lives in the outskirts, right next to the wall. “You need a huntsman. Have him hunt her down, bring her to town. Torture her. Show the people what will happen if they ever cross you. Then, you kill her.” His silvery voice starts to fade out. “Show them.” Then, the pictures disappear.

The throne room is a large place, made of marble and very little cobblestone. It had four chairs originally, but once the raid happened, I had the two smaller one's and the queen's thrones taken out, only leaving one left. The king's throne. I sit on it now, waiting for the arrival of my guards. I pick the grapes off a vine, first twisting them in my thumb and forefinger, then popping it into my mouth and chewing.

The doors burst open; two guards dragging along a drunken man. They throw him to the ground, forcing him to kneel before me. He watches the ground, not daring to look up into my eyes.

“Master Jameson. What a lovely surprise.” He chuckles at me. His green eyes finally look up at me, studying my braided hair and my flawless skin. “Not that you had a choice.”

“Not that I had a choice,” he agrees.

I smile and look at the rest of him. His brown hair is messy, grown long all the way to his shoulders. It seems to suit him, giving him an edge to his appearance. “You are handsome, yes?” A small cough-laugh answers a yes. “And you are good with a sword?” His laughing is cut short as his jaw tightens. “And a good tracker?”

His jaw stays tight as he answers in a gruff tone. “Good enough. What about it?”

“I need a huntsman,” I saw blandly. “A man to help me track down a man that is doing bad in my king-dom. Tell me, do you know a man named Sam?”

Jameson looks back down. “What did he do that was so bad?”

“Do you know him?”

He looks into my eyes now, boring into them. “Yes,” he says finally. I nod back to him, thinking about this. If he knows him, maybe he could trick him. “He has never talked, from what I hear. He trades in the markets on Tuesdays and Fridays. Sometimes at the bar.”

“I need you to capture him,” I say, my tone becoming serious. “To bring him to me, so that his punish-ments can be dealt with.”

He nods. “And if I refuse?”

“Then you can settle to be executed in the public eye.” I lean back into my throne, popping another grape into my mouth.

Jameson laughs, a choked, spluttering sound. “Do you really think I care whether I live or die? My life's already over, hon, I got nothing to lose.” He falls back on his knees, watching me with an amused expression.

“What about to gain?” I ask. His curiosity perks up, but then it's squashed. “I remember you had a sister. Jessie, was it? Such a fine young lady.”

He snaps his head up. His eyes go blank, then fill with rage. He turns to the guard's belt and pulls a knife. “DIE!” And the blade whistles through the air and lands in my shoulder, sticking in. I gasp and buckle down, coughing a little. I reach up and pull the dagger out and throw it to the ground with a clink. Blood just barely touches my gown before it clogs. I feel the heat rise, and the slice starts to seal off. I watch the red liquid roll off the blade, touching the marble and the carpet edge.

Jameson sits bewildered on the ground, unable to comprehend. “Did you really think killing me would have been that easy?”