Toxic Tales

Blood Red Part 4

The King and I married a month later. It was a joyous day, the happiest of my life. Snow White clung to me during the entire celebration, positively squealing with delight. Despite my continued suspicions, I kissed her all over and told her how glad I was to be my stepmother. The King, now my husband, was beaming with delight. He told me how happy he felt seeing me and Snow together.

Our marriage, overall, was a happy one. I wanted to have a child of my own, but it never happened. I supposed, deep down, that it was my punishment for secretly wanting such dark things that lead to the death of Snow's mother.

Two years went by. Snow White grew taller, and smarter, every day. By now, she was eight years old, and her sharp attentiveness took in every aspect of her environment. She picked up on subtleties with keen observation, and from what I heard from the servants, she used it to occasionally cause mischief in the palace.

After a while it seemed as though the entire staff were at each other's throats; secrets were revealed and rumors were spread, and it got to the point where many of them couldn't even look one another in the eye.

One of the maids, Martha, came to me one day, concerned about the way things were going. "It is like some ghostly presence has entered the palace and is tearing us apart!" She looked at me earnestly, touching my arm. "Isn't there anything you can do, Madame? This cannot continue."

I took her hand to reassure her. "I will get to the bottom of this, Martha, I promise. First, may I ask, how did this trouble start for you?"

"Well, I was talking to the little princess the other day, and she happened to tell me that Elizabeth had spread some nasty rumors about me, so I went to her and—"

A thought suddenly occurred to me. Cutting her off, I said, "Wait a moment, please, excuse me, Martha, but did you say you had been talking to Snow before the trouble started?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. And I saw her talking to Virginia and Bridget last week before their squabbling began. The closest of friends, those two, and now they hardly speak."

I thanked Martha and excused her. I knew I'd been avoiding this problem for too long, and I would have to have another talk with Snow White.

Before I could find her, however, she found me. I was in my bedchamber reading a book when I sensed her standing at the door.

"Hello, Snow, dear—" I paused when I saw the disgruntled look on her face.

"Oh, no, not you too! Why are you upset, darling?"

"You know why." She crossed her little arms and continued to look at me as though I'd taken away one of her toys.

"I give up. Please tell me what I've done wrong."

"You never said thank you."

My heart dropped into my stomach at these words. I stood up to face her, walking toward her slowly. "Snow White," I said, trying to sound tender but serious, "what exactly do you mean by that?"

Snow White rolled her eyes as though it should be obvious. "I did something for you. You're the one who taught me that when someone does something nice for you, you have to say thank you. That's part of what leads to peace. I said 'you're welcome'—don't you remember?"

"Snow, please come in and close the door." I suddenly felt very frightened. I got down on my knees so I could look her in the eye. She looked so sweet, so innocent.

"Snow White," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "When you said 'you're welcome,' what had you done that I should have thanked you for?"

Snow shrugged casually. "You said you loved my father. I could tell you meant it, too. You loved him more than my mother. I wanted you to be happy."

These kind, innocuous words confirmed my worst suspicions. I felt another surge of fear for this girl. I took a deep breath and continued talking.

"Well...how did you do it, Snow? Could you please tell me?"

"I found an axe in the drawing room, next to the fireplace. I hid it in Mother's room. I was almost sure she would be sick the next day, so I was going to visit her there."

The child did not so much as blink while recounting this story. I had to repress a shudder. I longed to have her leave and rush to tell her father, but I had to know more.

I tried keeping my voice as calm as possible. I even smiled a little in order to encourage her. "How did you know your mother would feel ill, snowflake?"

"Simple," she said, smiling back. "I found some dandelion roots in the garden outside—well, Dopey helped me find them. I put them in her soup. He told me that would kill her, but he was wrong. I was mad at him about that."

The name "Dopey" sounded familiar. "Who is Dopey, Snow?"

"He's one of my friends. Don't you remember?"

My mind flashed back to seven empty places at the table. I vividly saw Snow White, barely four years old, chatting with the empty plates. She referred to them by the most peculiar names...Doc...Bashful...Dopey...I remembered her mother laughing at these names, saying, "Where do children come up with these things? So imaginative!"

"Snow," I said slowly. "Did any of your other...friends...help you do this?"

"Yes," she replied casually. "Doc and Grumpy helped me carry the axe. It was very heavy. They told me to keep it there just in case Dopey was wrong about the dandelion roots. I wanted to give it a chance, at least. I was so mad at Dopey, I didn't talk to him for a week! But I forgave him. He makes a lot of mistakes like that."

I smiled again, trying to mask my horror and revulsion.

"Well," I said, standing up. "I know you wanted me to be happy, and that means so much to me." I put my hand on her shoulder and kissed her on the forehead.

"Thank you, Snow White."

The child brightened and said, "You're welcome!" Then she opened the door and skipped merrily out.

As soon as she was gone, I ran to the chamber pot and vomited.