The Bloodiest Rose of All

Chapter 3

Snow White couldn’t believe her ears. For the first time in three years she was being summoned by the queen. Was it fate? Had the time finally come when she was to be accepted by her step-mother? Snow didn’t know what to think as she followed the guards into a great room at the head of which was a gold throne. On the throne, sitting in all of her terrifying beauty was the queen. Her eyes were cold as ice and Snow White found herself trembling under her gaze.

“So here you are,” The conversation started more abruptly then Snow White would hav liked. “I did imagine you a little bit taller but then men prefer short women.”

Snow White was confused. How men had entered into this conversation she did not know.

“You see my dear, they like to feel in control of everything so when they tower over women she seems to be under their power. It makes them feel as though they need to protect her and, there is nothing more attractive to a man than a woman in need of his help.”

Snow White nodded slowly.

“Don’t stand there like a simpleton! Sit!” the queen motioned to a chair placed beside the throne. Snow White scurried to do her bidding. She sat down quietly and looked at the queen with her big blue eyes. This seemed to irritate her further.

“Do not look at me with such innocence! You are not innocent of anything!”

Snow’s eyes clouded with tears. She couldn’t understand the malice, the hatred that she saw in the queen’s eyes. She didn’t understand what she had done to earn her contempt. She dropped her eyes and stared at the floor.

There was silence for a few minutes. Suddenly a sharp clap was heard and a chamberlain rushed into the room.

“Your Majesty?” he queried bowing low to the ground.

“Bring in the refreshments,” was her sharp command. Again the chamberlain bowed and scurried out of the room. Snow felt sorry for the little man. He looked so frightened and small, like a rabbit scurrying away from some ravenous wolf.

A few minutes later pushing a cart was the little man. There were scones and little tea cakes that Snow knew the cook had decorated herself and two tiny delicate glasses filled with a creamy liquid. She had never had anything so elaborate and wasn't quite sure how to drink it.

The little man handed the first cup to Her Majesty with a low bow. His hands were shaking and the cup rattled on its little plate. The queen looked at the chamberlain in disgust and took it from him with a sniff. Snow was served next and she tried to smile at the poor little man but he didn’t look at her.

The queen raised the liquid to her lips and took the first sip. Then, to Snow’s great surprise she proceeded to drain the cup of all its contents. She then looked at Snow to do the same.

Snow realized that her cup was cold. She knew that she was expected to drain her cup like her step-mother had. She hated the idea of the cold and slightly slimy liquid running down her throat. The thought nearly made her gag but she put the cup to her lips and began to swallow. At once she realized something was very wrong. The liquid was bitter and not sweet at all. It sucked at the inside of her mouth and stuck to everything it touched. She gagged but no matter how she hard tried she couldn’t spit out the liquid so she swallowed it. When she did, it hurt like nothing she had ever experienced before. It burned all the way down her throat and when it reached her stomach she felt something like fire race through her veins.

The queen watched, obvious glee on her face. She stood as Snow swayed and dropped to the floor. Snow’s eyes focused on the ceiling and then the queen watched as the life seeped out of them. The spark left her blue eyes and they became dull and blank as her head lolled to one side and she was still.

The queen laughed and the shrill sound reverberated off the walls.

“Finally!” she yelled at the walls. “I am free! Finally!”

She called out, “Huntsman!! Your job is at hand! Come, rid me of this trash!”

From the shadows a dark shape moved. Dressed in black leather with a sword at his hip and a dagger strapped to his thigh a young man walked towards her. He skirted Snow White’s body and bowed to the queen with a sneer on his face, “What would my queen command?”

“Don’t try my patience Rafe…but I am too full of joy to punish you for your insolence. Get rid of the body!” she cried.

The Huntsman looked taken aback. “Your Majesty?”

She looked at him and the smile on her face faded and she yelled at him in anger, “Get rid of the body!”

“What would you have me do with it Your Majesty?” he asked coldly.

“I don’t care as long as no one will ever find her grave. Trample her and bury her in the marshes, or in the butcher’s yard’s I care not! Just be sure to rid me of her presence! I will never see her again!”

The huntsman nodded and strode towards Snow. He hesitated and then deftly swung her up to his shoulders. He turned and walked back the way he had come. There was a secret passageway that separated the throne room from a set of stairs leading to a tunnel that led away from the palace. It had been dug in more turbulent times when the kings of old had faced an uprising. This tunnel was supposed to have saved some king or other from a power-hungry mob many years ago.

Rafe trudged down the dank corridor and ducked down to enter the tunnel. It smelled of roaches and musty peat moss. Damp, dank air seeped into his clothing and mud stuck to his boots but he drudged on. He was careful to keep Snow White’s head from hitting the top of the door when he exited the tunnel.