A Dream of Ebony and White: A Retelling of Snow White (Beyond the Four Kingdoms Book 4)

by Melanie Cellier

  He snorted, and I giggled.

  “Maybe not the best way to start my reign?”

  “Maybe not.” He shook his head, and his expression fell. He didn’t need to speak for me to know his mind had turned to all the obstacles still to be overcome before I had any hope of a coronation.

  I knew because my thoughts had flown to the same place. The barriers seemed insurmountable, but I thrust the thought away. I couldn’t hide out here forever; my kingdom deserved better than that. Which meant I had to try. Even if it meant I ended up dead. My eyes roamed over my companion’s face, and I swallowed.

  Even if it meant Alexander ended up dead? That possibility was less easy to stomach. But I knew perfectly well he would never agree to step aside out of danger. And, in truth, I also knew I would have no hope of success without him.

  Old words of my father’s echoed in my ears. This was the hardest part of ruling: making decisions that others had to bear the consequences of. It’s supposed to hurt, he would tell me if he was here. If it didn’t hurt, you wouldn’t be worthy to rule.

  I tried to take courage from his memory, but fear for Alexander overwhelmed me. Yet another sign that I wasn’t worthy.

  Alexander clasped my hand, squeezing it in his strong, capable one. How much of my inner conflict could he read in my face? I wanted to open my mouth and tell him I’d changed my mind. Tell him not to go. Tell him we could run away together. But the words had lodged themselves in my throat, and apparently he couldn’t read the message in my eyes.

  He bowed over my hand, pressing his lips to it so quickly I didn’t feel their burning warmth until he had already pulled away. And then he was gone, too fast for me to speak even if I had been capable of doing so.

  My hand hung in the air for several moments, even that brief touch of his lips against my skin scorching through me. I had lost my chance. He had left toward danger, and I could do nothing now to help him.

  A tear ran down my cheek, and I wiped it angrily away. I couldn’t let myself forget that we were both acting with purpose. Doing the only thing we could. And I had a part to play, too. There would be danger enough for both of us, soon enough. For now, I needed to train.

  Chapter 11

  Apparently Alexander had also discussed my further training with Daria and Ben. Together we continued self-defense practice each morning, and they assigned me only light duties outside of that so I would have time for my other exercises. When I expressed guilt to Daria, she just waved it away.

  “From what Alexander said, it’s important that you get time to do the exercises he left you.”

  I gave her a sharp look. What had he told her? I thought he said they hadn’t asked any questions.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, apparently reading the concern on my face. “He didn’t tell any of your secrets—whatever they are. But I’m not stupid.” She paused. “None of the rest of us had someone to come after us. Someone who cared. But you do. You don’t have to stay here.” She shrugged. “So if this is what you need to be able to have a normal life…”

  I swallowed, overwhelmed by her words.

  Her face softened, and she leaned in close. “Don’t tell Ben, but I also think it’s terribly romantic. He’s very handsome. I can see why you ran away.” She winked at me, and I tried to keep the shock from my face.

  Romantic? I chewed on the inside of my cheek while I wondered if I should correct her. Did she think I was some noble or upper-class girl who had run away from whatever match my parents had arranged because I was in love with a huntsman? And now he wanted to make sure I had the skills I needed for us to make a life together?

  It actually did sound romantic. I only wished my life were half so simple.

  Or that Alexander actually felt that way about you, said my unwelcome inner voice.

  “Don’t worry, Snow.” Daria patted my arm, obviously reading the discomfort on my face if nothing else. “I won’t say anything to the others. Boys don’t understand these things.”

  She winked at me, and I reluctantly smiled back. Any attempt to correct her misapprehension would only leave me in a muddle since I couldn’t tell her the truth. But I promised myself that one day, when I had defeated Alida, I would return and tell them everything. And repay them in any way they wanted. It was the least I could do.

  For an entire week, one of the older three stayed home to watch the younger two, and they used the opportunity to teach the three of us something of tracking and trapping and foraging. I didn’t even have the chance to protest to Daria because she explained straight away that it was time Jack and Poppy were learning anyway.

  “Normally we like to get through the whole circuit of traps in one day, so we’re only missing one day at the mines. But that pace doesn’t leave enough time to teach the youngsters properly,” she said. “So this is as good an opportunity as any to get them started on what they’ll need to know.”

  Unsurprisingly, Jack and Poppy were not the best of students, so I tried to make up for it with unwavering attention. Even when gutting a rabbit made me nearly lose my breakfast. Anthony was our instructor on that day, and I got the distinct impression he found my disgust amusing and was drawing out the process longer than necessary. I didn’t complain, though. I knew I would eat the rabbit stew as heartily as the rest of them that evening, so I had no right to turn up my nose at this stage of the process. And I wanted to prove to Anthony that I was willing to do my bit since he seemed the least impressed with my new training regime.

  After a week, I took a walk through the forest, taking in so much more of my environment than I had before. I felt like a child who had just learned to read and was now discovering the secrets of stories that had previously been locked to me. The forest was full of messages that I hadn’t been able to read the last time I journeyed through it alone.

  I took note of animal burrows and edible plants, picking up on the signs of where the children had recently passed, and the indications that water flowed nearby. And all of this although I was still a beginner. How much Alexander must be able to read.

  I turned back toward the clearing, following my own tracks and trying to move quietly. I had spent two hours training that morning—one with the older three and one on my own alternating between running and climbing trees—and I marveled to discover that I felt no particular ache in my muscles. I still wanted to lose my breakfast after each session of sprints, but I recovered so much more quickly now, the effect not lingering to weaken me for hours afterward.

  To my chagrin, the younger children had all taken great delight in my tree-climbing efforts and often joined me, challenging me to race or to compete on who could go higher. At first I had attempted to demur and call them down, but Ben just shook his head at me.

  “They’ve been climbing almost since they could walk,” he said. “There’s not much else out here for a child to do.”

  I tried to hide my wince at his matter-of-fact words—a reminder that while this cottage was a haven, for them it was also a prison of sorts.

  I had told myself that I shouldn’t expect to see Alexander until some weeks had passed, but I couldn’t stop myself looking hopefully for him each time I heard a step behind me, or a rustle in the forest. I should have known better, though. When he did eventually reappear, it was soundlessly, just like he always moved.

  I was carrying two heavy buckets of water toward the cottage, and his sudden appearance made me squeak in shock. But I didn’t drop the buckets. I didn’t even spill a drop, and I grinned at him, proud of my steady hands and nerves. The forest no longer terrified me as it once had, when every surprise overturned my calm.

  “Snow.” He paused and something in his expression made me flush and look away. He cleared his throat. “You look well.”

  My eyes flew back to him, quickly tracing his form. “You also.” Could he hear the oceans of relief in my voice? I had fought every day against images of the worst befalling him. And every night when he hadn’t returned, I had reminded myself t
hat it was still too early to expect him back.

  “How did…” I cleared my throat. “How did it go?”

  He opened his mouth to reply, but a small form catapulted into him from behind, followed quickly by another.

  “Alexander! Alexander!” Jack and Poppy swarmed around him, followed by Danni and Louis in only a slightly more sedate manner.

  Alexander shrugged helplessly at me above their heads, and I smiled, resuming my progress toward the cottage. He was alive and, from every indication, unharmed. That was enough for now.

  Ben insisted he join us in the cottage for the evening meal as he had done on his first night weeks ago, and the children filled the air with chatter, updating him on the simple happenings of our forest life as if he were one of them who had merely been gone on a brief absence.

  He listened with attention, showing admiration and concern when necessary. I spoke little, taking the opportunity to watch him instead. I drank in the sight of him, mesmerized by the muscles in his broad shoulders and arms as he passed around food, his strength somehow not at odds with the softness in his face as he interacted with the children. It was a softness that reflected not weakness but kindness and consideration.

  When he glanced over at me, I was so caught up in my admiration for him that I forgot to be embarrassed. Instead of flushing or looking away, I smiled at him with all the warmth that filled my heart. The first time he smiled back, but the second time he was the one to color and drop his eyes from mine. He went quiet after that, and I missed the sound of his sure voice.

  I didn’t create an excuse to leave the cottage with him that evening. He seemed to be anxious to get away, avoiding my eyes, and I knew we would have the chance to talk in the morning. But when I later lay sleepless in bed, I regretted my forbearance.

  I couldn’t stop wondering what had happened with my missives. Had anyone responded? Had he been in danger? Now that the answers were so close, I couldn’t settle down for the night without them.

  Eventually I gave up on sleep and slipped out of bed and into my cloak. Pulling on my boots, I left the cottage, the moonlight transforming the clearing around it and the trees beyond. I suppressed a shiver. Perhaps I should extend my training to night exercises if the darkness still unnerved me so much.

  I took a moment to breathe deeply, steadying my nerves and observing my surroundings. I looked for all the familiar elements, noting how they looked different in the semi-darkness. I stepped out of the clearing and looked for the signs I had come to recognize during the day. They were harder to spot beneath the trees, where the leaves blocked some of the moonlight, but they were still there.

  A rustle behind me didn’t even make me jump, and I turned with a proud smile to watch an owl swoop past. I couldn’t wait to show Alexander how much progress I’d made. Except when I looked around for him, I realized I didn’t actually know where he went each night to sleep.

  For a brief moment I considered tracking him despite the darkness but ended up shaking my head at my own foolishness. I had made excellent progress, but I wasn’t that good. I would probably never be that good. Not where someone as skilled as Alexander was concerned.

  I stepped back into the clearing with an audible sigh. I should have taken the opportunity when I had it, earlier. Now I would have to return to bed unsatisfied.

  But I had only made it a few feet toward the cottage when a soft sound from behind made me spin back around. Alexander stood there, one step back into the trees. I rushed over to him, almost tripping in my haste. He stepped forward, as if to catch me, but stepped quickly back again when I righted myself.

  “I was looking for you,” I said when I came to a stop in front of him.

  “I know.”

  He said nothing more, and I considered asking him where he slept. And whether he slept at all since he had apparently been as alert to my exit from the cottage in the middle of the night as he would have been during the day. But I decided to focus on more important questions.

  “What happened in the capital? Did anyone reply to my notes? Did anyone suspect you?”

  “I got several replies, but I’ve burned them.”

  “Burned them?” I stared at him blankly, trying to make sense of his words. I wanted to shake him and tell him to stop being so taciturn and tell me everything.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I thought…That is, I…” His face twisted. “The truth is that I couldn’t be sure, but I began to wonder if someone might be following me. Observing me. I didn’t want to risk having anything in writing.”

  I gasped, the indrawn breath loud in the darkness, and looked wildly around us.

  “They didn’t follow me here,” he said quickly. “In the forest, at least, I’m confident I can lose a tracker. And it may have all just been paranoia, anyway. But the last thing we need is for all your supporters to be arrested.”

  I forced a deep breath. “No, you’re right, of course. I’m glad you did. But…”

  “Don’t worry,” he cut me off. “I memorized them before I burned them.”

  My shoulders slumped a little, relief coursing through me. I glared up at him.

  “Next time, lead with that information.”

  He gave a low laugh. “Sorry, Your Majesty. I just wish it hadn’t been necessary.”

  “You’re safe, and that’s the most important thing.” I took a step closer to him. “Maybe you shouldn’t go back. You’ve delivered my messages, you could stay here with us…”

  He shook his head, the gesture silencing me. “You know that wouldn’t work. This was just a preliminary contact. We still need to arrange to actually meet with them. And gather more supporters, if we can. I have to return.”

  “But…” I bit my lip, trying to read his eyes in the low moonlight that filtered through the leaves. “If someone was following you…”

  “If they were following me. We don’t even know for sure they were. I’ll just have to be extra careful—make sure there’s nothing for them to find.”

  It was so like him. Always there to support me. Never hesitating to do what he felt was right. I tried to imagine what I would have done if he had been arrested instead of put under surveillance. My throat closed, and my breath hitched. Before I knew what I was doing, I took another step forward and placed both hands flat against his chest.

  “But I can’t lose you, Alexander. I just can’t.”

  He stilled instantly beneath my touch. A slight twitch made me think he meant to pull away, but he didn’t move.

  “It’s not me who’s important, Your Majesty. I’m not the one who can save Eliam.”

  I shook my head angrily, moisture filling my eyes. “You’re important to me.” I leaned in, rising onto tiptoes, and lifted my face until my lips hovered a breath away from his. If he even swayed forward, they would meet. Fire raced through me at our nearness, and I trembled, fisting my hands into his shirt to give me balance. Every part of me was tuned to his nearness, his height, his broad shoulders, and the strength in his muscles. Silently I willed him to take me into his arms. But still he didn’t move, neither closing that final breath between us nor pulling away.

  “You’re important to me,” I said again, my voice the faintest whisper.

  The moment stretched out, tension rising in me until I thought I might snap. And then his warmth and strength were gone, ripped from my hands as he stepped hurriedly back. We stared at each other, his harsh breaths and my gasping ones filling the cold space between us.

  “You’re a queen, Blanche,” he said, and my full name felt like a slap across the face. My trembling resumed.

  “And I am only a royal huntsman. I know it may seem like you’re alone right now, but you can’t forget who you are.”

  My hands balled into fists, my trembling swept away by my anger. “How dare you, Alex! After everything we’ve been through. After all our years together. Do you really believe my feelings are the result of a moment of loneliness?”

  “No.” A flash of the moon a
cross his eyes reflected on something that almost looked like moisture. His voice dropped so low I could barely hear it. “Not a moment of loneliness. A lifetime.”

  I gasped, stepping back. His words cut through me like a blade. I shook my head, and his face softened further. Was that pity in his eyes? I stepped back again.

  “I haven’t forgotten who I am, Alex. How could I when everything I suffer is because of it? When just my presence puts anyone I care for in danger. I’m not allowed to forget who I am.”

  He opened his mouth, and I waited to hear what he would say. But nothing came out.

  Dashing one hand across my eyes, I turned and fled back across the clearing toward the cottage. I was not free to forget who I was, and apparently I was not free to have feelings either. If I could even trust the ones I thought I felt. What was it he had said? Not a moment of loneliness. A lifetime. The poor foolish princess who had no one but her father to love her, clinging obstinately to the boy who was forced by duty to serve her.

  At the last moment I swerved away from the cottage door, sure I was going to be sick. But when I reached the safety of the trees behind the woodpile, my stomach remained in place. I sank down onto a pile of leaves instead and placed my head on my arms. For once my eyes remained dry, and eventually sleep claimed me.

  Chapter 12

  The sun woke me, although Danni followed not far behind.

  “I found her! She’s back here,” she called over her shoulder as soon as she caught sight of me.

  I grimaced and picked leaves out of my hair, stretching my aching back. Why hadn’t I returned to my nice, soft bed? But as soon as I thought it, Alexander’s words washed over me again, and the sting of them nearly sent me tumbling back into the leaves. Instead I made myself stand up.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Danni, “were you looking for me?”

  She shrugged. “You’re not normally up before any of the rest of us wake. And you weren’t in the clearing.” She regarded me with narrowed eyes. “Did you sleep in those leaves?”