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

by Melanie Cellier

  “That’s the dress?” asked Alexander, pointing at the pile of material.

  Danni nodded.

  With quick strides, he took the broom from beside the door and crossed over to it. Using the handle, he scooped it up and flicked the whole thing into the fire.

  Several of the children gasped, and then a bang and a hiss silenced us all as the smoke turned green for a moment before returning to its usual color. Everyone looked at each other with wide eyes while silence reigned.

  “Well. I think that answers that question,” said Alexander at last.

  I nodded, still too shocked to actually speak.

  “It does?” asked Louis, at the same moment as Anthony said, “What. Was. That?”

  Alexander sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “We have reason to believe that Alida may have recently gotten her hands on some twisted godmother items. Ancient ones. We were afraid one of them might have been the so-called weapon she sent against Snow. I’ll confess I didn’t immediately think of a dress, however. Or more specifically the laces, I suppose.”

  “Oh dear.” Daria looked flushed again, but I was glad to see the healthy color on her face. “I suppose it’s partially my fault then. I was looking at the peddler’s other wares, when I noticed that dress tucked away at the back. I was a little embarrassed to ask to see something so fine—especially for myself, so…”

  She paused and then finished in a rush. “So I told the peddler I was looking to buy a dress for a friend. Foolishness, of course. And he must have thought I meant Snow. He gave me such a low price for it, but I never thought…”

  “No, indeed, how could you?” I patted her shoulder. “There’s nothing whatsoever for you to feel bad about. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine for putting a target on you all.”

  “The fault—as I said earlier—lies with Alida,” said Alexander, and I gave a small smile, able to relax at last now that the immediate danger was past.

  “Yes, fair enough. On that we can agree, I suppose. I’m more than happy to share the blame with her.”

  He shook his head at me, a smile lurking around his eyes, and Anthony snorted in the background.

  “Sounds to me like there’s plenty of blame for everyone.”

  “Oh, shut it, Anthony,” said Danni.

  “Well, if Daria’s all right and the dress is burned, I suppose that means we should be thinking about dinner,” said Louis. He eyed the now perfectly ordinary looking fire uncertainly. “Do you think it’s safe to cook on that? Should we douse it and shovel out the wood and ash and start again?”

  “It’s probably not necessary,” said Alexander. “But then it can’t hurt, either. Given we don’t really understand whatever that enchantment was, or how it might have been twisted. I can help.”

  Jack also raced to assist them, Ben a slower but steadier help in his wake. Danni bustled Poppy away to help prepare the food, and I took the opportunity to whisper to Daria.

  “I really am so very sorry that I didn’t tell you the truth.”

  She shook her head, already looking much stronger than when we walked in.

  “I was the one who said you didn’t have to tell us anything.” Her eyes strayed across to Alexander. “So I suppose that means you’re not star-crossed lovers on the run.” She looked a little wistful.

  I pulled a face. “No, I’m afraid it’s rather more complicated than that.”

  She dropped her voice even lower. “But you do love him.”

  I pulled back, startled, and eyed her warily.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t tell anyone.” Her face turned sad. “I suppose a queen and a huntsman might be a bit too wide a bridge to cross.”

  I swallowed, my own eyes caught on Alexander’s strong form as he carefully shoveled ash into a large bucket.

  “He certainly seems to think so.”

  “Oh, Snow.” Daria gripped my hand, and I managed a tremulous smile for her.

  “But that is the least of my worries, I can assure you. A murderous stepmother and a stolen throne have a way of driving other thoughts from your mind.”

  She shook her head, her eyes wide, clearly still growing accustomed to the truth of my story. I pasted on a brighter smile and stood to help Danni and Poppy with the food. I only wished my words had been true. That I was not so selfish as to find thoughts of my heart constantly creeping in despite everything else I—and my kingdom—faced.

  We told the children a little more of our situation over the meal—leaving out the details, of course, but focusing on our planned destination. I had expected a great deal of opposition to the idea of their accompanying us to Lestern, but the incident with the dress seemed to have scared them, although none of them admitted it outright.

  “It’s not as if we haven’t been to Lestern before,” said Daria, meeting Ben’s eyes across the table. “Why not make another trip? We should be safe enough in the duke’s castle until things settle down. And then we can return.”

  I winced slightly at her words but didn’t actually contradict her. In truth, if I succeeded in gaining the throne, I intended to bring the children to the castle where they wouldn’t have to break their backs chipping slivers of gemstone from an abandoned mine all day. And if I didn’t succeed…well, it likely wouldn’t be safe for them to return here. Not now that it seemed the queen knew of this cottage. Who knew what vengeance she might wreak in such circumstances?

  I had destroyed it for them, their haven. And it made me want to cry. But I also knew that if I told them they could likely never return to their life here, it might make it harder for them to leave now. And their safety was the most important thing. We all needed to leave—and soon.

  Unsurprisingly, Anthony proved the most reluctant to agree to our proposed plan, but in the end, we won everyone’s agreement. It took them a full day to decide what to pack and what to leave, as well as shutting things up for a long absence. The chickens they released to run wild with a promise that I would gift them more from the duke’s own stock. The goat, of course, had to come with us, but I figured we could tie him to the back of the wagon easily enough.

  The younger children inevitably squabbled over what they would have room to bring, and Ben and Daria were hard-pressed to both get the cottage in the necessary order and intercede between the younger ones. Daria eventually lost her calm—the first time I had ever seen it happen—and chased them around with a wooden spoon, threatening to paddle them all.

  They just ran from her, shrieking with laughter and pretend fear, and she eventually collapsed into a chair and massaged her temples. After a prolonged moment of silence, she looked down at the spoon in her hands and then up at me.

  “I’ve never tried to do that before. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Don’t worry, you were never going to catch them,” I said with a grin. But when I saw she looked truly guilty, I rushed to add, “No doubt it’s a lingering effect of the enchantment.”

  She gratefully latched on to that excuse, although I could see in her eyes that she knew as well as I did the true cause of her overflowing stress. Leaving her home—perhaps forever, because she wasn’t a fool—was huge. And leaving for the unknown, with the responsibility of five younger children weighing her down, was even bigger.

  We busied ourselves with packing and sorting, but after a while, I looked over at her. “I won’t abandon you all, I promise you that. As long as I’m able, I’ll do everything to make sure those children are cared for. And my grandfather will too. I’ll make sure of it.”

  She smiled at me, gratitude in her eyes, even if she didn’t voice it.

  Tarver and Carter arrived with the wagon that evening. They appeared to have reached some sort of happy rhythm that allowed them to work together efficiently. Albeit with very few words. I hoped that the addition of seven new members to the party—all thirteen or below—wouldn’t cause them too great a shock.

  We spent the night at the cottage, since traveling in the dark was less t
han ideal with a wagon and animals in tow, and left the following morning. No doubt my grandfather would have preferred to send more guards with us, but we were already a large party, and a larger one would only attract more attention. Instead we were relying on the skills of Carter and Alexander—both to find us a path and to hide our tracks.

  Our intention was to remain in the forest and away from any main roads all the way to Lestern. With so many extra guards in his employ, Tarver assured me that the duke’s lands had never been so free from crime.

  “We even have them patrolling our section of the forest,” he explained with a small, wry smile. “Since we needed something for them all to do.”

  I had made three journeys through the forest at this stage, but none of them had been anything like this. The younger children all rode in the wagon, while the older ones and I alternated between walking and riding. Alexander and Carter were rarely in sight—either ahead scouting our path, or behind covering our tracks. Which left poor Tarver to bear the brunt of our company.

  To my surprise he took it easily in stride, however, and Alexander soon had fierce competition for Jack’s hero worship. Even Louis and Danni seemed to fall under his spell, and he was the only one who could coax non-surly conversation out of Anthony.

  “I have a lot of nieces and nephews,” the captain told me with a grin when he caught me looking at him with astonishment. “And they all live in Lestern. I’ve been well trained.” He winked at me, and I shook my head. My grandfather had clearly chosen his captain of the guard well—and for more than his fighting skills. I found my curiosity over Lestern growing with each day of our trip. What would the small city be like? And what would I learn of my grandfather there?

  Chapter 21

  Two days into the trip I was watching Anthony with concern, when Daria sidled up to me. I transferred my concerned gaze to her, but her dark skin carried the healthy flush of exertion, and her black braids—pinned to her head as always—looked as glossy as ever.

  She rolled her eyes at me.

  “I’m fine. No lasting ill-effects, I promise. And that’s not going to change however many times you look at me with concern.”

  I gave her an apologetic grin. “Sorry, I can’t help myself.”

  Daria nodded subtly over toward Anthony. “And he’s going to be fine, too.” She bit her lip. “At least, I hope so.”

  “I know he never really warmed to me,” I said. “But I’ve never seen him so consistently dour. I think he hates me for upending all of your lives.”

  Daria shook her head quickly. “It’s not you. It’s Lestern.”

  “Lestern? You mean the city?”

  She sighed. “I told you that we’ve only been to Lestern once before, didn’t I? But I don’t think I told you when. It was four years ago. And that was the trip where we found Poppy…and Anthony.”

  “Anthony is from Lestern?” I looked over at him, my brow wrinkling. As I watched him, my heart sank. “I’m guessing he doesn’t exactly have fond memories of it?”

  Daria bit her lip. “It’s one of the reasons we’ve never returned. That and the distance. It got harder once we had smaller children with us.”

  “So Poppy was only…what? One? When you found her?”

  Daria nodded. “She doesn’t remember anything of Lestern. Or any home other than our cottage. But Anthony was nearly eight. He remembers all too well.”

  Her gaze lost focus, her eyes turning glassy as memory took her. “He was so scrawny back then.” She gave a little laugh. “Not that Ben and I were much better. Thinking ourselves so old because we were soon to turn ten. Well, Ben was, anyway, but I wasn’t too far behind.” She shook her head. “Thinking we could care for a baby.”

  “And clearly you could,” I said softly, still amazed at what they had achieved. “Just look at Poppy. She’s adorable.”

  Daria’s eyes softened. “Yes, that she is. And infuriating.” She laughed again. “But thank goodness Jack was older when we found him. I’m not sure we could have survived it twice.”

  “Don’t underestimate yourself,” I said.

  Daria’s eyes remained fixed on the younger girl in the wagon. “Her mother had just died when we found her. A woman in the market was looking after her—they had been neighbors apparently. But we heard her complaining to the woman in the next stall that she didn’t have the time or energy or coin to be caring for someone else’s little one.” Daria shook her head. “She sounded like she meant to abandon her to the streets. So I offered to take her in exchange for a deduction on the cost of our purchases.”

  She looked disgusted. “She didn’t even ask how we meant to care for her. She couldn’t have been more pleased to hand her over to someone else. I suppose it was a guilt free way for her to be rid of an extra burden.”

  I noticed Daria’s hands curling into fists and felt the same anger sweeping through me. And grief that any baby could be in such a situation.

  “What about her father?” I asked softly.

  “He had abandoned them before the mother died, apparently,” said Daria.

  I took a steadying breath. How different my life would have been after my mother’s death if I hadn’t had my father to love and care for me. For all my grief, how much I had to be grateful for.

  “And Anthony?” I asked, keeping my voice low so as not to be overheard.

  A look of concern flitted across Daria’s face.

  “Anthony wasn’t so simple.” Her face twisted. “We sort of stole Anthony. On our way out of the city.”

  “Stole him?” I blinked. “But we don’t have slaves in Eliam.”

  “No, not slaves. But we do have apprentices. And Anthony’s parents sold him to a mean master. One who beat him. And who wouldn’t release him from his apprenticeship until he had earned back what the man had paid. Only somehow with food and board, the original amount never went down.”

  “But that’s terrible! We have laws against that sort of thing. Why didn’t he go to the duke?”

  Daria shook her head at me. “No doubt an apprentice with family or friends to advocate for them would do so. But a seven-year-old with no one? I don’t think he even knew such a thing was possible. We had seen him in the market and talked to him on several of the days. But we were strangers and didn’t know what to do for him either. And then, on the last day, when we had loaded up our little cart to leave, he appeared from nowhere and begged us to take him with us.”

  Her face twisted. “How could we say no? We figured his master could never find us far away in the middle of the forest. And we were right. So far. But we’ve also never returned to Lestern.”

  Her concerned eyes returned to Anthony. “He looks very different now, of course. I’m sure no one would recognize him.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” I said firmly. “We’re going to Lestern under the duke’s protection. All of us. If anyone tries to give Anthony—or any of you—any trouble, you direct them to me.” My eyes fell on Tarver, leading the wagon forward. “Or better yet, Tarver. He’s the captain of the duke’s guard, you know. No one will give you trouble once they learn you’re friends with him.”

  “But his master might have a legal claim…”

  I shook my head again. “Not from what you’ve described. And I’d be more than happy to tell him so myself.” I glowered into the surrounding trees, wishing I could indeed have the chance to talk to the man. “But I don’t think there’s any chance he’d try to press any so-called claim when he realizes what sort of connections Anthony has now. If he even recognizes him in the first place.”

  Daria’s face immediately brightened. “I’m going to tell Anthony. And Ben. They’ll be so relieved!”

  She hurried off, and a fresh wave of guilt rocked me. How much stress had they all been laboring under since our decision to leave for Lestern? All those weeks that I lived with them, and I had never found out their stories. Too busy hiding my own, I supposed.

  I resolved instantly to change. If I wanted to be a good
queen, I needed to care about my people—truly care. And that meant individuals as well as the kingdom as a whole.

  That evening I approached Tarver after we made camp for the night. The quieter pace of travel had given me some time to think, and I didn’t want to put off my conclusions any longer.

  “I’d like a weapon,” I told him, not wasting time on preliminaries.

  His brow creased. “A weapon, Your Majesty? I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the rescue. I didn’t take a weapon with me because it seemed pointless when I didn’t know how to use it. But it would have made things a lot easier against that guard. I might not have needed you to save me if I’d been armed. So I’d like a weapon.”

  There was a moment’s silence.

  “And I suppose some training in how to use it, too,” I added.

  His mouth twisted, and I felt a pang of sympathy.

  “If you’re thinking that my grandfather would disapprove, just remember I’m your queen. I outrank him.” I fixed him with a mock stern look that made him smile reluctantly.

  “I suppose you do, Your Majesty.” He ran a hand along his jaw, and his gaze turned assessing.

  “You’d need to build up more arm strength before a sword would do you much good. And some specialized skills as well. We don’t have time for that. But I suppose there’s some sense in your carrying a dagger. And I can probably give you at least enough training to ensure you’re not a danger to yourself carrying one on your person.”

  He sighed. “Doesn’t mean you’ll be competent to fight with one, though.”