A White So Red

by Krystle Jones

  “Yes?” she said, a little clipped.

  A faery knight entered, fisting his hand and bowing. “My Lady, it’s time.”

  “Oh.” She blinked, her heart suddenly threatening to climb out her throat.

  Caspar must have noticed her expression and gave her hand another firm squeeze. “Just breathe. And don the mask.”

  He kissed her forehead lightly before letting go and walking out the door.

  “Don the mask.”

  Composing her face into a picture of serenity, she rose, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles in her dress. Straightening her spine, she followed the knight out the door.

  A group of knights surrounded her as she was led through the halls toward the throne room. She tried to focus on her breathing, to make it slow and steady when all she wanted to do was hyperventilate. She wondered if it was entirely due to her nerves, or the fact she had spent so many years dreading walking this path. When the great black doors came into view, every memory she had ever had of being dragged before her stepmother came rushing into her head, strangling her resolve.

  Her jaw clenched, and she fought her fears back. You can do this. The Queen isn’t there anymore. It’s time to make new – better – memories.

  The guards stopped by the doors, lining up on either side while the faery paused in front of them. “Ready?”

  Natalia nodded quickly before she had a chance to change her mind.

  He gave the two guards gripping the door handles a brisk nod and they opened them, spilling bright light onto her face that made her squint.

  The throne room looked completely different, save for the black marble floor, which she could now see was made up of swirling black pearl patterns. It was beautiful. The drapes had been removed from the windows and walls, which were actually a vibrant golden color. The red rug had been replaced by a white one, and white, gold, and red silk streamers hung from the rafters and black iron candelabra. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow through the walls of tall windows that contrasted with the warm orange glow of the hundreds of lit candles in the room. People and forest dwellers stood to either side of the white rug, and every head turned when the trumpets began blasting the series of notes that was the announcement of her arrival.

  She held her breath, blinking to snap herself out of her momentary shock, and took one slow step after another down the rug. It took great mental effort to keep her face composed as she passed the crowd, all of whom nodded to her as she walked by. Someone gasped to her right, near the dais, and her eyes flickered over to catch Tristan, dressed in a light blue tunic, smiling at her. That one, simple gesture made her feel so much better, and she gratefully smiled back. Goldentongue met her at the foot of the dais and helped her up, where she knelt before Malachite, who was wearing the blood-red robes of the High Priest, a single golden rosary dangling from his neck.

  He spread his arms, inviting the crowd to join him in prayer. She muttered the prayer fervently along with him, wishing with all her might that she would be everything the people needed. She was so caught up in praying that she almost missed the first part of the oath she was supposed to recite after Malachite. Her heart stuttered on the last phrase, and she trembled as he announced, “I, High Priest of the Thesperian Church, do hereby crown Natalia Victoria Thesperana Queen of Thesperia and keeper of the land. May your rule be prosperous, and may you continue to guard and watch over our people for all your days.”

  The weight of the crown settled on her head, and she closed her eyes, feeling the weight of her new title officially settle on her shoulders.

  “Rise, my Queen,” Malachite said.

  Inhaling a shaky breath, she stood and slowly turned around to face the room. It seemed surreal. All her life she had been the one at the base of the dais, not standing directly before the throne – her throne.

  “It’s an old Thesperian tradition to name our rulers according to a virtue. And so I give you – Queen Snow White the Fair!”

  “All hail, Snow White the Fair!” the room answered, bowing.

  “Rise,” she said, raising her voice to command the room.

  As everyone shuffled to their feet, she said, “Many of you stood by me even when the world was against me, and by doing so, you were putting yourselves in grave danger. It may not mean much now, but I swear to you I shall never stop trying to protect you and trying to build a better future for our tomorrows.”

  The room erupted into applause, and at least a hundred smiling faces looked back at her.

  She smiled back, hoping they couldn’t see how afraid she was beneath the crown and the dress.

  ***

  At her insistence, the following ball was small in scale, though the joy and reverie was grand. For the most part she sat on her throne, which she still didn’t feel like she had the authority to sit in, watching the dances and generally trying to avoid being noticed.

  Many of the partygoers, which she couldn’t believe were her “citizens” now, stopped by to offer their encouragement. Several even tried asking for a dance, but she always politely declined.

  Until Caspar bowed before her and offered his hand.

  She stared at it. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Asking my queen for a dance.”

  “I can’t dance.”

  “Oh, anyone can dance. It’s no different from any other skill.”

  “But I’ll step all over your toes.”

  “I’m sure they’ll heal.” He quirked a brow.

  She stared at his hand, fighting the urge to chew on her lip, one of the “un-queen like” habits her advisors were trying to break.

  “Please, my Queen,” he said, softer.

  Something about the way he said it, so urgently, as if he were begging, made her reconsider. “Fine,” she said, standing. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. When you can’t stand tomorrow morning –”

  “Oh, come here,” he said, hooking her arm under his with a smile. The crowd parted, some clearly astonished she had finally conceded to dance, while Caspar led her to the center of the large ballroom. She blushed as he pulled her close, but not so much that it was inappropriate for a lady. His mouth rested beside her ear, and they began swaying as the orchestra changed to something tenderer.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Frightened. Relieved. Excited. There’s so much to do that I feel a bit guilty for spending the night dancing when my people need my help now.”

  His arm tightened around her. “It’s overwhelming, I’m sure. But you need to take this time for yourself. I think you deserve a break after defeating the most powerful dark witch the world has ever seen.”

  She smiled at the quiet humor in his voice. “What about you?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “What will you do now?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

  He stiffened. “Actually, that’s part of the reason I wanted to catch you alone. With so many people clamoring for your attention tonight, I didn’t know when that would be, so I settled on a dance.”

  “I knew you hadn’t asked for my impeccable dancing abilities.”

  He chuckled softly, but it was strained. “I need to return to Elyon.”

  The floor might as well have dropped out from under her. She stopped, holding him at arm’s-length and searching his eyes. They were grim and perfectly serious. It felt selfish wanting him to abandon his country to stay with her, but she knew deep down she could only put off the inevitable for so long. Licking her dry lips, she said, “When, my Lord?”

  “Tonight. My father was in ill health when I left, and Jaspar needs someone there to help him. Besides, someone needs to spread the news of the new queen.” He smiled, as if to say, “I’m sorry,” before pulling her close once more.

  His cheek touched hers and she leaned into him, closing her eyes. “Come with me,” he murmured.

  Her throat tightened as tears stung her eyes. “I wish I could… but I can’t.”

  �
�Then I’ll write to you every day.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise. I swear one of these days we’ll be together again. And if we can’t have forever now, we can at least have this moment.”

  They didn’t speak another word for the remainder of the dance, content to be in this fragile dream of love and hope. The orchestra seemed to sense their mood, for the tune dragged out and other dancers joined them, locked in tender embraces and turning and swaying in slow, graceful movements.

  After the ball ended, Caspar walked her to her new room. At the door, he leaned in and gave her the softest of kisses, barely touching her lips yet shaking the earth beneath her.

  “Good-bye, Snow White,” he whispered, bowing and finally tearing his eyes from hers as he started to walk away with heavy steps. He hadn’t gone very far when he stopped and ran back to her, taking her hands in his. “Would you like to come to Elyon next spring?”

  She blinked, surprised. “Of course. That would be wonderful.”

  He delicately kissed the back of her hand. “Then I shall look for your banner coming up the mountain pass when the roses first bloom.”

  A year. That sounded so far away, and yet she knew they had no other choice.

  She didn’t remember what she said next, if she said anything. By the time she regained her senses, he was already halfway down the hall. “Good-bye,” she whispered, her voice too soft to carry.

  He turned the corner, and she rushed through the door, closing it behind her before running to the window. The guards had parted a path through the protesters, and she watched as a hooded man rode out the front gates on a black horse, with five men riding behind him.

  She placed her hand to the window; the glass was cold, but the heat of his touch remained locked within her fingertips as she watched, unblinking, as they rode through the field and disappeared into the forest and out of her life.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Ever After

  The following months were so busy she barely slept, but that was fine because she was accustomed to not getting much sleep. Before leaving, Caspar had made Ivan head of her guard and commander of her army, which was quite small since few Thesperians were loyal to the crown. It still felt weird, knowing she had an army, and she prayed every day she would never have need to call upon them.

  Court politics gave her a frightful headache, even more so after a few days when letters and messengers began arriving, either offering their support to the new queen or trying to gauge if she was an ally or an adversary. Her heart jumped at spying the gold seal of Elyon, the first of the letters to arrive. It wasn’t a personal letter, rather more along the lines of proposing trade contracts and treaties, and though the contents were rather dull, her councilmen had to tear the letter from her hands because she couldn’t stop reading. It was Caspar’s handwriting, and anything that made her feel as if he hadn’t been a dream was better than nothing. Goldentongue, whom she had made an advisor, suggested a council summit to meet the other foreign leaders and discuss options to help rebuild Thesperia via trade agreements and other commerce contracts. She had readily agreed, wanting to start as soon as possible if it meant helping her people. They desperately needed the money, as the previous queen had depleted the treasury on her own vanity.

  After discussing it with Malachite, Natalia had declared an entire week for mourning and honoring their dead. Pyres burned every day; some were mounted with bodies, while others were adorned with flowers and other things that had belonged to lost loved ones.

  The riots and protests died down over time, going from a raging fire to a small flickering of flames as the citizens took to repairing the city. Many left and she couldn’t blame them. So many horrible things had happened in Thesper. If she could, she was fairly certain she would leave too.

  She had assigned several officers to patrolling the city, and at the end of the day they were to recount to her their findings, including the number of sick and dying, and how many Thesperians were left. Upon finding out several families were starving, she ordered that the majority of the food meant for her be given to the people in need. Then she donned her cloak, a simple pair of riding breeches and a blouse, and drove the food wagon to the square herself, surrounded by a handful of guards.

  She did not know when she rode out into the city someone would try to kill her. Luckily, the guards subdued the man before he could cut her throat, but the event left her shaken, reminding her the Queen’s grip on the city was going to take a long time to break.

  After the assassination attempt, the castle became her prison. She wasn’t allowed out by Wormwart or the others, and she spent most of her days either in meetings or tucked away in her mother’s garden. It had become her practice grounds, and she frequently met Tristan there to work on their healing abilities. From what it appeared, he had very little gift for healing, whereas her powers grew stronger every time she used them.

  As Rose watched her big sister become more skilled with magic, she became more impatient to see if she had any powers. Though she tried, Natalia could not find any way around the protection spell, and with a pout, Rose relented to waiting until she was of age before discovering if she was Charmed.

  Natalia wouldn’t have minded the help, but she didn’t let the enormous task of healing the land alone daunt her. She started a little closer to home and saw tremendous improvements within a mere matter of weeks. The garden was nearly restored, and the glass had been repaired and polished, letting in fresh sunlight. The clouds seemed to have dispersed when Octavia died, and more and more often Natalia saw the sun.

  The landscape was still ugly, but she planned to change that soon as she was strong enough to heal several things at once without feeling faint. Whenever she got a free moment, she practiced healing plants in the garden. Little by little, she grew stronger.

  It took a long time, but slowly the land began to change. Blades of sharp silver grass softened, turning flush with green. The putrid, rotting flower field was brought back from the dead, coming to life with a sea of bright white roses. The soil became fertile and seeds were planted, lifting the worried frowns of the Thesperians as they watched the guards plow and sow the miles of field.

  The forest was considerably harder to improve, as were the animals that inhabited it. Healing the immediate land surrounding the city and castle took quite a toll on Natalia, and she had to take an entire week off to rest before she could continue. Every day she worked on a mile long stretch of forest, restoring it like a painter would an old painting. Soon there was so much green that it made her dizzy from the brightness.

  After several months, the city was nearly rebuilt, and it was grander than before thanks to the increase in trade. Red terra cotta slates lined the rooftops, a bright contrast against the evergreen fields. Pearly white slabs had been imported for the construction, and a beautiful golden cross had been mounted to the newly constructed cathedral.

  Throughout the long first six months of her reign, she found herself staring at the hazy purple mountains in the distance from the window of her bedroom.

  There wasn’t a day that went by when she didn’t think of Caspar. He had kept his promise, writing to her every day, but over time, the frequency of letters had slowed to a trickle. She practically pounced on the servant every time he brought letters to her only to be disappointed none were from her prince.

  When spring at last arrived, she was anxious to get out of the castle. But her excitement at finally experiencing a little bit of freedom was overshadowed by her nerves at seeing Caspar again.

  ***

  Sunshine dappled the ground, sneaking in through the thick green foliage of the Silver Forest as her entourage steadily rode down the dirt path. It had been nearly a full week since they left on the journey that would take them to Elyon. Admittedly, it had been great fun to escape the castle and camp out under the stars in the sanctuary of the forest. At first, she wondered if sleeping in this place, once full of nightmares, would frighten her, but
after having spent several months healing the land, she no longer looked upon the forest as a death trap. Somewhere along the way, she had grown quite fond of it.

  Parts of the woods felt like an extension of the castle rose gardens, which were completely restored. Full bushes of white roses danced on the spring breeze, lifting her hair and filling the air with their perfume. Winter had ended early, and though they were nearing summertime, the temperature remained docile and inviting.

  Natalia felt alive out here, among nature. Wormwart said as she healed the land, she was tying herself to it in a way, and it gave her its strength in return. As it grew stronger, so did she. She never understood what her father said about “feeling the land,” but she did now, and it was wonderful.

  Upon healing the land, her powers had received a tremendous boost. But even with that added weight, it still took her some time to learn how to fully control her magic. She still had so much more to master before she would be able to completely undo the Queen’s Dark Magic.

  Traces of Octavia’s influence remained; every now and then Natalia could see the glint of metal, leaves that weren’t quite back to their original state, or an animal with some metallic appendage. It would take a long time before the land was completely healed, but she never stopped working at it, not since she had taken the crown.

  The Thesperians were still timid around her. She finally convinced her guards to let her go outside again, promising to take at least ten bodyguards with her. She healed the sick and spoke with the people, getting to know them and what bothered them in an effort to learn how she could help. Though they were gradually warming to her, there was a wariness in their eyes whenever they looked at her that wouldn’t go away. She didn’t blame them. Anyone powerful enough to take down the Queen should probably be feared, at least in their eyes.

  “Yeh look nervous,” came a gruff voice from beside her.

  Her thoughts interrupted, she turned her head, where Wormwart rode alongside her, dressed in her chosen royal colors of crimson and silver. A silver badge hung on his chest, a mark of his rank within her court as Personal Counselor. Wormwart was incredibly knowledgeable about the land, knowing exactly what needed to be fixed while offering valuable, practical insight as to the direction they needed to go to further strengthen the land. Despite their rocky beginning, he had become her most trusted friend.