Dark Snow White (Grimmoire Series)

Part IV

Prince Floran had always been critical of the incessant cleaning that took place all over the castle. The daily act of dusting in rooms seldom entered and polishing surfaces rarely used, was maddeningly pointless to Floran. He felt that the castle’s resources could be put to better use. Implementing community programs, expanding the Redcrest’s mining efforts and training more silver and blacksmiths were of greater importance than polishing a statue that Floran hadn’t walked past in over a year, surely.

However, on this particular day, the prince’s strong feelings on the issue subsided, as he showed Snow around the castle. Knowing that every surface was polished and every room spick-and-span, he had never felt prouder. “It’s simply mad that you have yet to see the rest of the castle, after staying here for so long,” said Floran. Snow smiled politely, she was a little distracted. Snow was wearing another beautiful dress - embroidered, long and light blue. It was a little too long and the train dragged behind her ever so, but she didn’t mind at all. In fact, she quite liked it. It made her feel very regal.

They walked up the stone stairs and turned down another hallway. Statues (polished, of course) flanked either side of the stone walls as they approached a double doored room. “I think you’ll like what’s in that room,” teased Floran. “Well, go on then,” replied Snow, excitedly. Floran grasped the door knobs and as he dramatically opened the double doors, Snow gasped. 

The entire room sparkled with jewels. All of the Queen’s special jewellery was on display. Necklaces, bracelets, rings and most impressively, the royal crown. Snow moved straight to the crown, like a bee to honey. It was a diamond encrusted, golden crown with a large red jewel inlaid into the front. “Ruby?” asked Snow, pointing to the red jewel. “Good eye,” replied Floran, “it’s the royal gem.” Snow nodded, noting that piece of information.

Snow busily inspected the intricate work on a necklace, also made with the royal gems. Rubies, all joined, grew in size from small to large with one teardrop-shaped ruby, at the bottom. Snow held the biggest ruby in her hand, it had a beautiful heaviness to it. “Who made this?” inquired Snow, mesmerised by the beauty of the jewels. “They were all made by the same people,” said Floran, pleased to know the answer. “Who?” asked Snow. “The Dwarfs,” replied Floran. “The who?” inquired Snow, turning to see if she misheard Floran.

“The Dwarfs,” said Floran, “seven fellows, small of stature who work in our mines. They handle everything from mining the gems to turning them into the pieces you see before you. Everything you see in here is made by those seven men.” “They’re so talented,” gushed Snow, “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” “I’ll have to introduce you. Tonight, at the feast,” said Floran, smiling, anticipating Snow’s reaction. 

“You would do the honour of introducing me, publicly?” asked Snow, not quite believing her ears. “The honour would be all mine,” chuffed Floran.

At that moment, overcome with happiness, Snow reached over, grabbed Floran’s face and kissed him with decisive passion. Floran didn’t know what to do. He’d never been kissed before. Not properly anyway. He instinctively put his hands out bracing to say “this isn’t protocol,” but simply could not bring himself to break the kiss. Snow eventually pulled back.

“I should be getting back to my room. I need to get ready for the feast tonight,” said Snow coyly. Floran was too stunned to reply. Snow noticed she’d left a slight lipstick stain on his lips, which she promptly wiped off with her glove. “See you tonight,” said Snow, breezing out of the room.

Floran remained stunned, absentmindedly putting his hand up to his lips.

* * *

In her room, Snow was in a foul mood. She couldn’t find a dress, she couldn’t decide on any shoes if she didn’t have a suitable dress and what she wanted more than anything was to make a good impression on the people of Redcrest and running late was not becoming to any lady.

Snow’s lady’s maid was the problem, at least, according to Snow. In order to win some favour with the Queen, when Snow was offered a lady’s maid, she insisted on giving one of the more, less fortunate girls the opportunity. Tilda was indeed less fortunate. From birth she had been unable to talk and was short of hearing. This made finding employment quite difficult. The late King had made an effort to ensure everyone in his Kingdom who wanted a job would find employment and as such, found a spot for Tilda in the castle’s staff cleaning and sorting.

Tilda found it difficult to lipread most people. Everyone spoke so quickly and with different speech patterns. But the Queen always made a point of speaking slowly and clearly to enable Tilda to easily understand. So Tilda was extra thrilled when the Queen, herself, advised her she was to be lady’s maid for Snow. The thrill quickly wore off, once Tilda realised that Snow was not the lady she had envisioned.

“Red,” barked Snow, “something red. I must have the royal colours.” Tilda was waiting for Snow to point to something to indicate what it was that she wanted. Tilda knew Snow was displeased with the dress choices, but couldn’t work out why. “What are you standing there for, help me,” said Snow, hands outstretched dramatically. Discarded clothing lay everywhere. Tilda began rifling through the different dresses and decided that she would look for anything that she thought looked pretty. 

Tilda found an exquisite silver, silk dress and held it up to Snow. Snow was at explosion point. “Not silver, you halfwit,” said Snow, brimming the anger, “RED. THIS COLOUR.” Snow, screaming at this stage, was pointing at a red apple that sat on her dresser. “Ugh, she doesn’t want more food,” thought Tilda. She’d never known anyone to put away as much food between meals as Snow.

Tilda wasn’t moving and Snow couldn’t take it anymore. She marched right over to Tilda and smacked her across the face so hard, Tilda fell to the floor. “Why would you make me do that?” asked Snow, aggressively. Tilda cowered, holding her face. Snow stood up and grabbed the apple from the dresser, returning to the floor. Tilda flinched, instinctively.

“This colour on this dress,” instructed Snow, pointing first to the apple, then at the silver dress. Finally it clicked with Tilda. Everything was clear now, crystal clear. Tilda moved swiftly to one of the back closets and began searching for the elusive red dress. 

“Honestly, I give a simpleton like you a chance at real work and this is what I get for it. ARGH,” raged Snow, yelling in vain at Tilda, “And stop blubbing - you’re a lucky girl to be my lady’s maid. It’s not everyday someone of your class gets a chance like this. Now hurry up.”

But Snow’s meltdown did not go unnoticed. Falkner, the Queen’s maid, couldn’t help but overhear Snow and had to stop herself from bursting into the room and slapping Snow herself. Falkner, feeling crushed by Tilda’s sobs, decided it was her duty to report Snow’s behaviour to the Queen. No staff would be bullied on her watch.

* * *