Reflect- Snow White Retold

by Demelza Carlton

  Guinevere found her voice. "Thank you, Sir Lancelot," she said. Then she left, to find the safety of her chamber where she might weep in frustration without being watched.

  Seventeen

  Clouds had darkened the day early, so what had been a sunlit room when she left it yesterday was now a place of shadows and deeper darkness with the shutters closed. The newly lit fire didn't help matters, flickering weakly like a dying bird that had fallen down the chimney.

  A fitting place for Queen Guinevere to sleep tonight, she grumbled to herself as she pushed the door shut behind her.

  For the first time in her adult life, she wanted to throw herself on the floor and pound the flagstones until her frustration died. To be so close to safety and yet so far…

  But if she did, the weariness already starting to weight her limbs would overcome her, and the floor was no place for a queen to sleep. Better that she take herself to bed instead, and pound the pillows without hurting her fists.

  She took a step toward it, before the unfamiliar glitter stopped her.

  "You need the help of a powerful man at court," said a voice that turned her stomach.

  Melwas. The glitter of his eyes reminded her of a spider in the dark, only his eyes reflecting the firelight as he reclined on her bed.

  Ugh. She wouldn't beat the pillows. She would burn them.

  "But I am not the altruist that Artorius is, or was," Melwas continued smoothly. "A plea for help and a look from those big, sad eyes will not be enough to win me over. No, you will need to offer me something of value in exchange for helping you."

  He rose from the bed, an ungainly manoeuvre that reminded her of a ballista ball being hefted out of a cartload of straw. A lot of rocking and rolling, puffing and blowing, until the man's feet finally touched the ground.

  For all his girth, he stood no taller than her.

  "I have nothing to offer you," Guinevere said. She meant it as a polite dismissal.

  "That is not true," he said, taking a step toward her. "You have the jewels Artorius gave you as a wedding gift. Princess Zurine was furious when she discovered they were gone."

  Jewels? The only item of jewellery Artorius had given her was a crown, and he had that still. Guinevere knew only a fool would hand this man a crown, even one fit for a queen.

  "I might accept the jewels as a deposit. The first instalment of many," Melwas said. "Your father's kingdom has many treasures, so I am sure you have a fat dowry that Artorius will not miss."

  Guinevere's mouth was too dry to speak. She could hardly tell this man that she'd fled Flamand with little more than a sack of clothing, and her father would probably disown her when he discovered what she'd done, if he hadn't already. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to let this man see her cry.

  He seized her, and when she opened her mouth to scream, he shoved his tongue down her throat, choking her. Thick lips bruised hers, as equally heavy hands kneaded her bottom like she was a loaf of bread he planned to devour.

  A furious hammering sounded, somewhere far away.

  Melwas released her, swearing, and she realised someone was knocking at the door. She sucked in a breath and called, "Come in!"

  The door opened. Xylander spilled into the room, his eyes wild. "The princess is gone!"

  "What did you say?" Melwas demanded.

  Xylander stared at the man, as if he hadn't seen him before. "I said Princess Zurine has disappeared. No one has seen her all day. She's nowhere to be found in the castle."

  Melwas swore, then hurried out.

  Guinevere's legs could no longer hold her. She sat heavily on a chest, and let her tears fall. "I don't know what to do," she wept. Yet even as she said the words, her mind began making a list. "I need to change the bed, and send for water so that I can wash. Wine to wash out my mouth. Strong wine. Have a lock fitted to that door to which I have the only key…" She looked up to find Xylander staring at her. "You have to go after the girl. It doesn't matter if she's in the castle or if you have to chase her halfway to Flamand. Find her, Lander. Or I am doomed."

  Xylander glanced back the way Melwas had gone, then looked at Guinevere. "Did he hurt you? I swore to defend you, and if he did anything, anything at all, I will slice him into pieces so small no one will know if the body is a man or a pig. I can't leave you here in danger. I swore an oath."

  Oh, how much she longed to let him stay, to be her loyal bodyguard against that horrible excuse for a man.

  But if anything happened to the princess…Melwas would be crowned king, and he could have whatever and whoever he wanted. Guinevere could not let that happen.

  "He did nothing. I am upset about the King's illness and the missing princess," she insisted. "Find the girl. You know what to do."

  Xylander looked pained, like he knew she lied. "Are you sure?"

  Heaven help her, why did he tempt her so? Locks and a bath and fresh bedding would see her safe. It had to.

  "Yes. And do not return until the girl's heart is yours," Guinevere said.

  Eighteen

  Tracking the princess took longer than Xylander expected. Perhaps because he was accustomed to tracking beasts in the forest, where there wasn't such a plethora of paths to follow, as there were outside the city gates. If he hadn't brought one of the palace hunting hounds and a pair of the princess's slippers with him, he suspected he would never have found the trail at all.

  When her trail left the road to follow a track through the forest, Xylander sent the dog back to the palace and forged on alone.

  The princess had evidently urged her horse to move swiftly, not an easy thing in the dense forest. A castle-bred girl who'd spent little time in the woods – if she hadn't wanted to be found, she should have kept to the road, where the steady stream of traffic might have hidden her tracks. Instead, she wandered through the forest, circling around one game trail before turning to another, with no clear direction in mind. Almost as if her heart hadn't truly been party to her sudden desire to run away.

  Not like Guinevere, who had never looked back for a moment.

  No, not like Guinevere at all.

  Darkness had fallen by the time he found the princess, and he almost rode over the top of her in the dark.

  A piercing scream ripped through the night, affrighting his horse so the mare reared and dumped Xylander unceremoniously on the ground before galloping off.

  Xylander jumped to his feet, drawing his sword. "Show yourself!" he demanded.

  She pulled off her hood, revealing her pale face. "Please do not hurt me, Sir Knight. Your horse frightened me as much as I frightened him."

  "Her," Xylander corrected, sheathing his sword. "Like with people, I find female horses are better at doing what needs to be done than male ones. Except when it comes to war."

  The girl shivered, pulling her cloak more closely about her. "I'm not sure if that's true. Why, I cannot even seem to start a fire." She waved at a pile of branches with no kindling or tinder in sight.

  Xylander sighed. Why had Guinevere sent him out here to kill the girl? She would perish on her own of exposure without a fire. He could not bring himself to kill someone so helpless. It went against everything he believed in.

  He would bring Guinevere the girl's heart, all right. But it would still be beating, locked in her breast. Oh, such a lovely, sweet breast.

  All he had to do was persuade the girl to return to the castle where she belonged.

  He held out his hand for her tinderbox. "Please, let me."

  Nineteen

  She wasn't hungry, but Guinevere forced down another bite of food without tasting it. She would need all her strength to get through the coming days.

  "You cannot hide in your chamber forever. The people need to see their queen." Lady Ragna stood inside the room, voicing Guinevere's own thoughts, as she waved a procession of servants through the door.

  One chest was deposited on the flagstones, the solid thump followed by twin relieved exhalations as the servants released their bu
rdens. A second and third thump followed the first, before all six men bowed and departed.

  Lady Ragna did not. "These are your court clothes, as the King commanded. In his absence, the people need their queen."

  Guinevere stared at the chests. The clothes they contained could only be new, for she had not brought enough from Flamand to fill one chest, let alone three. She could not have commanded enough seamstresses in Flamand to do so much in so little time. "But it's only been a day," she said.

  "A day in which you have been crowned queen, the King has been taken ill, and the princess has gone missing. If you mean to be queen for more than a day, you must take your place in the Great Hall and the throne room on the morrow. Or Lord Melwas will."

  Lord Melwas. Who she could shut out while she stayed here, but she could not avoid if she had to leave her chamber. How one man could frighten her so, she wasn't sure, but Guinevere's hands shook at the very thought of him.

  Lady Ragna pursed her lips. "I will send a maid up in the morning to help you dress for court. If you do not choose a suitable gown, then she will. You are part of King Artorius' family now, and while you might be more familiar with foreign ways, you will do things differently here. The King might be ill, but he will not be dishonoured by one such as you."

  Ragna left without waiting for a response, which was probably just as well, for the words Guinevere wanted to say were certainly not queenly.

  Anger forced her to her feet, and all the way to the door, where she considered shouting something after the bully of a chatelaine.

  "Your Majesty."

  Guinevere blinked as she met Lancelot's eyes before he bowed. Then he straightened again and faced the corridor, instead of her.

  Like a guard, her bewildered mind supplied. He guarded her chamber, just as he'd guarded the royal bedchamber last night.

  But no mere man could guard against death, which had stolen into the room and felled Artorius as he slept. Death would claim him in the end, for an enchanted sleep could only delay the inevitable.

  She slammed the door and barred it, wanting to sink to her knees and cry, but this time, she knew she could not. Instead, she should busy herself…by examining the gowns Ragna had brought. Guinevere might not like the woman, but she agreed with her that a queen could not hide at dark times such as this. She would not dishonour Artorius, even if he would never know.

  So she took stock of the gowns Ragna had brought, laying them one after the other on the bed that she'd had made up with fresh linen after Melwas' visit.

  White linen and wool, edged in silk or a lovely golden fur she'd never seen at home. And the crown jewel of them all, a gold silk gown trimmed with white fur. Ermine, she thought. A gown fit for a queen that outshone even her wedding gown, which she had not yet found. Ah, she had only unpacked two chests so far – one stood untouched in the corner.

  The final chest contained her wedding gown, as expected, but beneath it was a surfeit of underclothes, white as fresh snow. Stockings and shifts, veils that ranged from thickly woven wool to linen so fine she could see through it when she held it up to the light. And beneath it all sat two caskets she had not seen before.

  She opened the first, and found it full of jewellery. Golden fillets, some jewelled and some plain, though she could hardly call such intricate workmanship plain. Gold lace, woven of fine metal wire instead of thread, formed a crown so light she would barely feel its weight when she wore it. There were necklaces, too, but the crown was a work of art.

  She opened the next casket, expecting to see more of the same jewellery, but found it full of silver, not gold. A set of jewelled combs, and a set made of plain silver. And beneath those, a mirror, the like of which she'd never seen before.

  This was a far cry from the scratched bronze in the inn. The silvery surface shone beneath a layer of some sort of crystal or glass – the biggest piece she'd ever seen, an oval bigger than her head. She'd never seen her own reflection so clearly – her skin so pale, making the dark, sleepless circles beneath her eyes stand out all the more.

  What did her appearance matter? What she really wanted to see was her brother, successful in his mission.

  As if on command, the mirror surface misted over for a moment, before clearing to show a forest in darkness.

  Guinevere caught a flicker of movement, and peered closer.

  "Here, let me," she heard Xylander say, as if he was in the room beside her.

  The rasp of a flint, spitting sparks onto tinder, lit Princess Zurine's face for a moment before the girl pulled her cloak more closely about herself and backed away.

  Someone hammered against the door. Guinevere almost dropped the mirror in surprise. "Who is it?" she called.

  "Lord Melwas wishes to see you, Your Majesty."

  Ugh. "Tell him I have no desire to see him," she called back.

  "Open this door. I must see the Queen. It is a private matter of great importance!" Melwas demanded.

  She would rather die first. "I am indisposed. Return on the morrow."

  The door rattled violently, and she heard Melwas swear. Thankfully, the bar she'd dropped across it held.

  "You will regret this, Queen Guinevere!" he shouted.

  She doubted it, but she didn't tell him that. Instead, she busied herself, returning her gowns to their places, except for a fawn-coloured one trimmed in white silk that seemed the most practical of them all. On the morrow, she would wear it to court, as she waited for Xylander to return with the princess. All would be well, she was certain of it.

  Twenty

  Zurine accepted the bread and cheese Xylander handed to her, though she was more hesitant about the skin of wine. He gulped down some wine, to show her it was safe, before she sipped from that, too.

  "What is a lady like you doing in the woods? What are you running from?" he asked.

  Zurine took a larger swallow of wine. "My stepmother's assassins."

  Xylander choked.

  Zurine managed a sickly smile. "I know it sounds silly. I said as much to my cousin, when he said she would try to kill me, but then I heard her. She was talking to someone – a man – and demanding he bring my heart to her to prove he'd done what she asked. I could not stay in my father's house with her after that. Just waiting for the axe to fall. So…I ran."

  A foolish thing to do for a girl on her own, who had no idea how to survive in the woods. "Why didn't you ask someone for help? Find someone to protect you?" If she'd come to him first…

  "My father might have, but he has fallen deathly ill. At my stepmother's hand, if my cousin is to be believed, and I am beginning to think he might be right."

  Xylander shook his head. No. Guinevere would never have hurt her husband. Not when she relied upon his protection. "What about your cousin? Would he protect you?"

  Zurine laughed weakly. "He says he can, but for a price. He wants to marry me, and claim my father's lands as his own. My father made other plans for me, but if he dies…I fear my prince may never come." She swiped her hands across her face. "You must think me a fool."

  "No," Xylander lied. "I think you are very brave." That, at least, was true. To leave her father's castle for the unknown meant she had a great deal of courage. "But I think you would be wiser to seek shelter than to stay out here in the open. Perhaps an inn in the city…"

  He stopped when he saw her shaking her head.

  "In the city, someone will recognise me, and her assassins will find me. I cannot return."

  Xylander's heart sank. Winning the girl's trust would take too long, and even then, she might still refuse to return to the city with him. He had to try something else.

  He dug through the pouch at his belt and extracted an apple. The enchanted apple Guinevere had given him. If it put her to sleep, he could carry her back to the city before she woke.

  "Here, an apple from my father's orchard. I'd be delighted to share it with you, Princess," he said, holding it out.

  She eyed it suspiciously.

  Xylander sigh
ed. He'd have to eat some of this, too. Just be careful not to swallow, lest he fall asleep, too. He took a bite, then handed the apple to her.

  Zurine lifted it to her lips, her dark eyes regarding him.

  He met her gaze, willing her to trust him, but the darkness in her eyes seemed to grow deeper, expanding until blackness engulfed him.

  Twenty-One

  Xylander woke slowly, revelling in how well-rested he felt. He could not recall how long it had been since he'd slept so well. Why, he could almost imagine himself in his own bed in his father's castle, he was so comfortable.

  He opened his eyes, and realisation dawned. He wasn't home, nor in a bed, and the trees surrounding him seemed to mock him for his stupidity.

  He'd eaten Guinevere's apple. There was still a piece in his mouth – he hadn't swallowed it. Yet it had enchanted him, all the same.

  He spat it on the ground, cursing as he realised he was alone beside the ashes of a cold fire. No fire, no horse, and no Zurine, either. She'd even taken the rest of the bloody apple.

  Something about the apple must have made her suspicious. Maybe she'd seen that he hadn't swallowed, or maybe she'd recognised him, after all. Ah, by all that was holy, what did it matter? The girl was gone and he had to find her again.

  Swearing, he found fresh hoofprints and set off after them.

  This time, she'd taken a relatively direct route back to the road, surprising him. Had she returned to the city, after all? Or headed away from it, taking the road away from everything she'd known, just as he and Guinevere had?

  A rustling sound drew his attention to the roadside. A horse stepped delicately through the long grass, crunching her way through them.

  The princess's horse, saddled and bridled, but missing her saddlebags.

  And the princess herself was nowhere to be seen.

  Xylander swore again.

  Guinevere would not be happy.

  Then again, if the girl had slipped away from him, then she was safe. All he had to do was give Guinevere a heart and tell her it was the girl's and Guin would be satisfied.