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

by Melanie Cellier

I nodded, eagerly. “I understand, and I’m not expecting miracles. Or to get into any knife fights. I just want to know it’s there if I need it.”

  It didn’t take long after that for Tarver to produce an elegant dagger and sheath. And we started my first lesson at the next opportunity: how to hold it and how to draw and sheath it safely.

  I didn’t mind him keeping it simple because the idea of ever actually stabbing someone made me feel queasy. But then I was currently the target for a murderous royal campaign. And if it ever came down to my life or an attacker’s, I didn’t want to hesitate.

  Later, around the campfire, when most of the children had fallen asleep, I sat down next to Alexander. He smiled a greeting, passing me a hot cup of tea which I took gratefully.

  But eventually he sighed. “What is it, Snow? I can see you looking at me out of the corner of your eyes, you know.”

  I looked away, a little embarrassed. “I just wanted to check that you aren’t, well, mad at me.”

  “Mad at you?” He looked genuinely surprised. “Why would I be mad at you?”

  I looked across the fire in Tarver’s direction. “Because I asked Tarver to give me a weapon and some training.”

  Alexander turned fully to face me, regarding me in silence for a moment.

  “Am I supposed to be angry because you want a weapon, or because you asked Tarver instead of me?”

  A flush rose up my neck. He was far too astute.

  “I don’t know. Both? Neither? Don’t listen to me.” I started to push myself to my feet, but his hand shot out and grabbed my arm, pulling me back down.

  “No, don’t go.”

  I sank back onto the ground, and he let me go instantly. I tried not to look at the spot on my arm that he had touched.

  “Snow, I meant what I said the other day. I’ve made some bad decisions where you’re concerned, but all I’ve ever wanted was for you to be safe. And happy.”

  He sighed and looked into the fire. “So I think it’s a great idea for you to be armed.” He shot me a stern look. “As a last resort measure only, of course.”

  I nearly giggled.

  “And I think you should get what training you can from the best. And that’s not me.”

  I opened my mouth, but he chuckled and shook his head. “If you’re about to try to reassure my manly pride, there’s no need. I can fight well enough, I suppose, but I’m not a trained guard. When you wanted training on forest craft and basic self-defense techniques, I was happy to help out. But I’d rather you learn to use a knife from an expert.”

  I looked at him, the firelight soft against his strong features, and my heart melted a little more than it already had. I should have known better than to think he would be angry. He cared far too much to put his own pride ahead of my well-being.

  I felt myself unconsciously leaning toward him in the flickering glow, my eyes focusing on his lips. Abruptly I pulled myself back and scrambled to my feet.

  “Well, uh, thank you, Alex. For understanding. Good night.”

  I turned and fled toward my bedroll. Stupid darkness. Stupid firelight. Making everything feel romantic. Stupid feelings. Would they ever go away and let me love someone who might actually love me back?

  I sighed as I slid into bed. Not as long as he kept acting like my best friend and everything I’d ever wanted all rolled into one.

  Three days later we arrived in Lestern. Tarver had me in the wagon with the younger children, the hood of my cloak pulled up over my face.

  “I can vouch for my guards,” he had said. “They all have reason to hate Alida. And the servants at the castle come from loyal families who have served the duke for generations. They know to be discreet. But I can’t speak for everyone in the city. It would be far better if no one outside of the castle encounters you during your visit.”

  Which meant this was my only real chance to see the city. So while I kept my hood low, I did try to peek under it, just to see what Lestern looked like. My first impression was of a military outpost. Guards seemed to patrol not only along the simple wall that surrounded the small city but also everywhere I looked.

  But bearing in mind the recent increase in guard numbers, I tried to look past that. My second impression was of a neat city, with busy, industrious-looking inhabitants. The buildings, the streets, the people—even the bright flower boxes—looked ordered and well kept.

  I couldn’t see the water, but the smell of the sea pervaded everything, and the call of gulls sounded above the usual hustle and bustle of any city. Lestern certainly didn’t compare with the capital in size, but it was still bigger than I had been expecting, and we passed more than one market square.

  This was the place where my mother had spent her childhood. If she had lived, would I have come here every year for summer visits? A highlight of my year, perhaps, and my grandfather a dearly loved presence. But I pushed the thought away. If my mother had lived, everything about my life—past and present—would have been different, so it didn’t bear thinking on.

  All too soon the wide cobbled street led us into the courtyard of the castle. Only when the gate closed behind us did Tarver relax, gesturing for me to climb down and come forward. The castle was small compared to the one I had grown up in, but neat and ordered like the city around it. I found myself drawn to it. Relaxing in a way I hadn’t expected to.

  A steward and housekeeper waited inside the entry hall to greet me, along with a number of other senior staff. Each bowed or curtsied low and addressed me as Your Majesty. Clearly a fast messenger had been sent ahead of us to prepare for our arrival. I had expected Tarver to enter with me, but he seemed to have disappeared—to the guard headquarters I supposed. The steward and housekeeper looked at me as if I were in charge rather than a guest, and I felt a brief moment of panic. But then Alexander, Carter, and the children all entered, and I responded on instinct, making the necessary introductions and giving orders for rooms to be prepared and our belongings to be appropriately disposed of.

  And then I was receiving a tour along with a stream of information about the castle and city. And yet I had no difficulty taking it all in and storing it in the proper compartments of my brain. In a cottage in the forest I had been hopelessly out of place, my skills meaningless, but in charge of a castle, I was at home. I had done much of the day-to-day organization in my own castle for more than a year. Ever since my father’s health had deteriorated to the point where he had become bound to his rooms.

  It was strange now that I thought of it—although it hadn’t struck me as odd at the time. While my father still lived, Alida had been rightful queen and should have taken on such roles. In fact, she should probably always have been doing them—or had a hand in them, at least. Had I stepped up because she was unwilling? Or had the servants always brought everything to my father or me? Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t be sure. Perhaps they hadn’t liked the answers they might get from my stepmother.

  Whatever the reason, I slipped into life at the Lestern castle with remarkable ease. I soon discovered that my grandfather had indeed commanded that I have full authority in his absence, and I thanked him mentally for the thought. With each day that passed, I felt confidence returning to me. Our haphazard adventures so far had almost made me forget the skills and abilities I did have to offer.

  Each morning I trained first thing in the small castle courtyard with Tarver. I noticed he had a different group of guards training beside us each day, and I suspected he was giving as many as possible a chance to see me for themselves. I worried that my obvious ineptitude would be to my disadvantage, but he assured me one morning that it was quite the opposite.

  “They see you training like one of them, taking instruction when needed, and they respect that far more than pretty jewels and fine gowns. Could you imagine your stepmother out here every morning with the youngest recruits? They’re impressed. Take my word for it.”

  He had been busy since our arrival, recalling guards out on more distant patrols, drawin
g up plans, and preparing supplies for a march through the forest. Some guards would have to be left, of course—enough to maintain order in Lestern. But the bulk would travel with us to the capital.

  A surprising amount of work was involved, and Tarver ran everything past me and Alexander, who had become my shadow. I suspected he felt uncomfortable that we found ourselves in an unfamiliar location and had assigned himself as my personal guard. When I challenged him on it, however, he assured me that he was merely attempting to learn more about castle life.

  “You wanted to learn about forest craft,” he told me with a grin. “Aren’t I allowed to be interested in what it means to command a castle?”

  I shook my head, giving him a friendly shove, but I liked his solid presence at my elbow too much to consider sending him away. And particularly when it came to Tarver’s reports, I valued his input. He had more to offer on getting a large number of people safely and quickly through the forest than I did.

  I didn’t trust his excuse, though, and still thought he was protecting me. He had been such a favorite of my father’s that he had often been included in our conversations, and even in meetings where he really had no place as a huntsman’s son and then huntsman himself. It was the reason he had been sent to Eldon, after all.

  With my reassurances about Anthony, the children had taken to exploring the city with great interest—an enormous relief to the castle staff since they had begun by thoroughly exploring the castle itself. They brought back regular reports of the city to me, so that I almost felt as if I had the chance to get to know it myself.

  Nothing they said contradicted my initial impression. Or the idea that my grandfather was a fair lord, beloved—or at least respected—by his people. The castle staff spoke of him even more highly, although they gave me the impression of a sad man. And with portraits of my mother everywhere around the castle, I hardly had to question why.

  At first I had found them confronting, but I had secretly grown fond of them. They helped me to imagine her as she had been in the various phases of her childhood and youth. As she had been when this castle had been her home. She seemed to infuse every part of it, and I had never felt so close to her. It was a stark contrast to my own castle where only her official portrait in the royal gallery and a small one in my father’s desk remained. Alida hadn’t liked reminders of her predecessor—more beautiful and more beloved than herself.

  Every sign confirmed that my grandfather was an excellent choice of ally. But nothing answered the true questions that still lingered in my heart. Questions borne from a lifetime of his absence. Questions that I suspected only a conversation with my grandfather himself could ever truly answer.

  And perhaps I would have the chance to ask him those questions soon. Because as comfortable as I felt in Lestern, we were needed back in the capital. We had come here to collect an army, and it was nearly ready.

  I was alone in my grandfather’s study, reviewing yet another report from Tarver, when Daria wandered in.

  “You’ll never guess who showed up at the castle today,” she said.

  “Hmmm?” I tried to pull my mind away from guard numbers and rationing provisions.

  “You’ll never guess who just turned up,” she repeated. “Poppy’s father.”

  “What?” That shocked me enough to get my attention. “Her father? But I thought he abandoned her as a baby.”

  Daria nodded, and I could see the conflicting emotions in her face. “But we ran across that woman at the market. The one who cared for her after her mother died. She recognized Ben and me and seemed pleased to see Poppy again.” She frowned. “I guess word got around, and her father wanted to see her for himself.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Or he wanted to see how his daughter ended up staying at the castle. And how it could benefit him.” I hated to be so cynical, but I still felt sad every time I looked at Poppy and wondered how anyone could have abandoned her.

  “Yes.” Daria dropped into a chair, her eyes worried. “I have to admit I thought the same thing. But what if he truly wishes to reconnect? I couldn’t deny her that chance.”

  “Is he here now?” I sat up straighter when she nodded.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “None of us have said anything about you. Even the little ones. We’ve been watching them like hawks.”

  “And who’s watching Poppy now?”

  I had no sooner asked the question than the door burst open and Danni ran screaming into the room. Daria leaped to her feet and seized the younger girl by her shoulders.

  “You’re supposed to be with Poppy. Where is she?”

  “Dead!” wailed Danni. “I think she’s dead.” And then she burst into floods of tears.

  Chapter 22

  Neither Daria nor I had ever run so fast as we sped down the corridors toward where Danni had left Poppy. Alexander appeared at some point during our sprint—drawn by his sixth-sense for me being in trouble, no doubt.

  When we burst into the small receiving room, Louis was kneeling on the floor beside Poppy’s still body, looking terrified. He scrambled to his feet when he saw us and rushed over. We ignored him, racing to take his place at Poppy’s side.

  She wasn’t breathing, just as Danni had said, her face pale and her limbs limp. I shook her but got no response.

  “What happened?” asked Daria, looking at the other two over her shoulder.

  “I don’t know,” said Louis, looking desperate. “He seemed friendly enough. Gave her some presents. And then said goodbye. She seemed happy, and then next thing we knew she collapsed.”

  “Wait, get back.” Alexander thrust me aside. He knelt beside Poppy and began to examine her carefully, patting her pockets and even checking her small shoes. When he reached her hair, he stopped.

  “I don’t recognize either of those.” He pointed at a knot of brightly colored ribbons and, tucked behind them, a small pearl comb.

  “Me neither.” Daria leaned closer.

  He gestured her back, whipping a handkerchief from his pocket and using it to cover his hand as he pulled both free from her hair. In two steps he was up and at the small fire in the grate.

  This time there was no bang or hiss, but the green smoke that emerged hung in the air looking more like oil than smoke before it finally dissipated. As it did, Poppy gasped and sat bolt upright, her wide eyes flying between each of our faces.

  “What happened? Where am I?” And then with a confused lilt. “Did I fall over?”

  “Oh Poppy!” Daria folded her into her arms and began to cry all over her, much to the younger girl’s disgust.

  She had soon wriggled free and scrambled up to her feet.

  “Where’s my new comb?” She looked around the floor and then fixed her eyes on Danni who had sunk into a nearby chair, her face still white. “Did you steal it?”

  “I’m afraid that wasn’t just a comb, Poppy,” said Daria in a serious voice. “It was magic, like my dress. And it nearly killed you. Thankfully Alexander has destroyed it.”

  Poppy immediately burst into noisy tears, her wails making her accompanying words indecipherable. Alexander and I looked helplessly at each other, but Daria once again took her in her arms and patted her curls while murmuring soothing nothings and making faces at us over her head.

  Alexander sidled up to me. “Is she upset that she nearly died? Or that I destroyed her comb?”

  Danni snorted, her normal color returned. “Good luck working it out. She probably doesn’t know herself.”

  “Maybe we should…” Alexander gestured at the door.

  Danni snorted. “Coward.” But she also grinned at him.

  I, on the other hand, didn’t fault him in the least. I couldn’t since I was hard on his heels as he slipped away. Now that I knew Poppy was going to be all right, my mind was moving too furiously to stay and attempt to make sense of a five-year-old’s emotions.

  “Why would she try to kill Poppy?” I burst out as soon as we were alone in the corridor. “Why would her own f
ather be part of such a scheme?”

  Alexander didn’t bother to ask who she was. “How did she know we were here?”

  We stared at each other for a silent moment as we both processed the consequences of this question. There could be no doubt that the so-called present had come from my stepmother. Or that she had somehow gained access to a collection of ancient godmother objects—through this Sterling person, no doubt. Which meant that despite all our efforts, news of my presence in Lester had reached her.

  “We need to leave,” I said. “I’m only endangering everybody again with my presence.”

  “We’re already preparing as fast as we can,” said Alexander, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “And it doesn’t make any sense. What does she gain by killing Poppy? Is she just trying to get revenge on you for surviving this long?”

  “And how could a father do that to his own child? I know he abandoned her—but trying to kill her?” My mind kept circling back to this question.

  “That’s assuming he was her father,” said Daria, emerging into the corridor and closing the door firmly behind her.

  “Poppy’s fine,” she said in response to my questioning look. “She’s calmed down completely because Danni gave her the ribbons out of her own hair.”

  “Oh, that’s kind of her,” I said. Danni had bought them in the market with the pocket money I had given her, and naturally Poppy had been badgering her to be allowed a turn with them ever since.

  “I think she feels guilty because she was supposed to be watching her when it happened.”

  “She couldn’t have guessed the items would be magical,” I said, instantly determining to find Danni some new ribbons as soon as I could.

  “No, and I never should have left them. I had a bad feeling about that man, but I thought it was just because of his abandoning her…” Daria sighed. “I should have stayed with them.”

  “And what could you have done?” asked Alexander. “None of us saw this coming.”

  “You don’t think he was her father?” I asked Daria, returning to her first comment.