Mirror, Mirror

by Jen Calonita

  Next she turned to the staircase against the back wall. If the downstairs were this messy, she could only imagine what she might find in the loft. Part of her actually hoped it would need as much care and attention; she could use more tasks to distract herself.

  Heading upstairs, Snow found seven small beds lined up in the small space. None of the beds were made, so she tidied them, too, fluffing pillows and placing the small slippers she found in every corner at the foot of each bed. The frames appeared to be hand-carved, and they had odd names etched into the headboards. But they couldn’t be their actual names. . . . Dopey? Grumpy? Sneezy? Bashful, Happy, Doc, and Sleepy? Whoever these children were, they clearly had a sense of humor. And very comfy-looking beds. Just looking at them, Snow felt herself begin to yawn. There was a small window against the far wall, and the light was dimmer up there. She peered out to see the sun was already starting to set. Could it be evening already? This had been the longest day of her life, and the first time she’d ever been away from the castle come nightfall.

  The castle. Mother. Father. Aunt Ingrid’s dark deeds. Now that all her busywork was done, she felt the thoughts come rushing back to her like a waterfall. Thankfully, the urge to sleep was coming on just as fast. She felt her limbs grow heavy as she sank down onto the nearest tiny bed and lay across them. The beds felt soft and safe. Maybe she could lie down for just a little while and rest her head. She’d surely hear the door and be downstairs in time to greet her hosts. . . .

  It was only a matter of seconds before Snow fell fast asleep.

  Snow awakened with a start. Seven figures were leaning over her, watching her sleep. She quickly sat up and blinked at the people surrounding her, feeling disoriented. It took her a minute to remember where she was and why she was there. Oh, yes, the childr—actually, they weren’t children at all. They were grown men. They were quite small in stature, but there was no mistaking the mature look to their faces—not to mention the facial hair. One even had a white beard. Their clothes were quite dirty and ash smudged their foreheads and cheeks. Now she felt foolish. How could she have thought a group of children lived on their own? She was the only child she could think of who’d been left to raise herself.

  One of the men glared at her angrily. “Who are you, and what are you doing in our house?”

  She gaped, trying to remember why she had thought it was a good idea to venture inside the cottage instead of waiting outside, but her head still felt so heavy.

  “Now, is that any way for us to talk to our guest?” said one man with a round belly and long eyelashes. He smiled at her. “We’re sorry, miss. It’s just us out here and, as you can see, we’re not used to having visitors.”

  “Especially not visitors who . . . achoo! . . . clean the house,” said one with a bright red nose.

  Sneezy, it would seem.

  “Are you all right, miss?” asked one with tiny spectacles. Another man peeked out from behind his shoulder. He seemed quite shy. Perhaps that one had the nickname Bashful. “Have you fallen ill?” the spectacled man continued. “I can fix you a tonic to help you feel better.” She shook her head. He lowered his glasses and looked at her clearly. Maybe he was the one called Doc. “Are you sure? Not many make their way to the edge of the kingdom near the mines by foot.”

  So she was near the mines. She’d heard Father talk about the diamonds being some of the kingdom’s most valuable riches. At least they had been, once. It was said the mines were all dried up now, which cost many villagers their jobs and the kingdom valuable assets—very likely part of the reason the kingdom had become so poor.

  “I apologize for the intrusion,” Snow said, feeling more embarrassed about her foolishness by the moment.

  “Why, that’s all right!” one said, sounding jolly. She assumed this one must be Happy. “We never get visitors, which is a shame. It’s nice to have company. Right, men?” No one replied.

  “I lost my way in the woods and stumbled upon your cottage,” Snow explained. “I tried knocking, but no one was home and the door wasn’t locked, so . . . I was so tired I let myself in.” She looked down at her torn dress, feeling her cheeks flame. “It was quite rude of me.”

  “So she does speak,” said the angry one, who Snow deduced must be the one called Grumpy. He looked her up and down. “But you still haven’t told us who you are. A spy?”

  “You’re so distrustful,” said another man, who yawned before looking her over mildly. “The girl obviously just needed a rest. She’s not here to steal our gems.”

  “Don’t tell her we have gems!” Grumpy barked, and they all started arguing.

  “I’m not here for your gems,” Snow promised. “Precious jewels should be kept safe when the kingdom has so few left.”

  Grumpy raised his right eyebrow and grunted. “So few left? Hogwash! The queen closed the mines so she could keep all the diamonds for herself!”

  “No, the mines were closed years ago because they were all dried up,” Snow said, confused.

  Grumpy grunted again and looked at the others. “That’s what people were made to think, but why do you think we’re covered in soot? Because we like spending our days in caves?”

  “Because we don’t wash much?” Sneezy suggested. Grumpy nudged him.

  “Because she’s got her best miners secretly still doing her dirty work!” Grumpy declared. “The diamonds are still plentiful! But now we mine the caves, and she keeps the riches. The Evil Queen is poison, I say! Poison!” The other men shushed him.

  The Evil Queen. So the nickname extended beyond the palace walls. How many others had her aunt’s cruelty and greediness affected? She needed more information. “My apologies. I fear I’ve turned a blind eye to much of what’s gone on in the kingdom.”

  Grumpy grumbled. “Like most, I’d say. But who are you? You still haven’t said.”

  The men looked at her curiously, and she hesitated. Did people still know her name? When she’d been small, her parents had taken her everywhere and endeared her to their people. But, of course, since Aunt Ingrid had become her caretaker, she’d spent her days locked in a less than ivory tower. Did their people think she’d abandoned them the way her father had? That was what Aunt Ingrid always claimed, saying there was a high price on her head. But now she wondered. Maybe they knew she was as much a prisoner as they were. “My name is Snow White.”

  “Snow White!” the men repeated in unison, and there were a few audible gasps.

  “You’re the princess!” said Doc, removing his cap. “It’s an honor, Your High—”

  “Get out!” Grumpy commanded at the same time, and Snow winced.

  “That’s no way to talk to the princess,” Happy argued. They all started to quarrel in disagreement.

  Grumpy jumped up. “She’s the princess, you fools! Do you know what that means? If the Evil Queen finds out

  she’s here, and that we told her the truth about the mines, we’re done for!”

  “She thinks I’m dead,” Snow said flatly. “She tried to have me killed this morning.” Some of the men removed their caps. The room was silent.

  “Your Highness, no.” Doc sounded breathless. “We’re thankful you’re all right. We truly hoped someday you would escape. We’ve always thought you were our kingdom’s last hope.”

  That’s what the huntsman had said, too. Why had she never seen it that way before? She had failed her mother. Failed her father. Failed their kingdom. Well, not anymore.

  “I’d like to be, but . . .” Snow paused. “I escaped death for the time being, but this has still been the longest day of my life, which is strange because I’ve had quite a few long days.” She couldn’t help thinking back to the day her mother died and the night her father disappeared. “When I found your cottage, I was completely spent and unsure I could even go on. Your home seemed so welcoming that I couldn’t resist.” She looked at their forlorn faces. “To repay you for your kindness, I tidied up and made supper. But I can leave before you eat.”

  Grum
py seemed to like this idea, but Snow could tell the others disagreed.

  “Stay for dinner, Your Highness,” Happy said. “We’d like to know more about your journey.”

  “Thank you all,” she said, feeling grateful to stay with them for even just a little while longer. Feeling overcome, she reached out and squeezed the hand of the man closest to her. “Thank you so much.”

  He backed away nervously, but didn’t speak. He smiled at her from the safety of the other side of the room. Had she overstepped?

  “Dopey isn’t much for talking,” Happy explained. “But he’s a good man to have on your side. Come, Princess.” He motioned toward downstairs. “Let’s continue our talk at the table. We haven’t had a nice home-cooked meal in years!”

  “Hey, are you calling my goulash rubbish?” Grumpy asked.

  “It’s edible . . . sometimes,” Sneezy replied.

  “Why don’t you all wash up and I’ll put the food out?” Snow asked. Her aunt would be horrified at the thought of a princess serving people, but it felt good to be so useful for a change and to be in others’ company. Still, the men looked at her strangely.

  “Yes, wash up,” said Bashful. He nudged the others. “Come on, men.”

  There was some grumbling, but they all went to the sink while she ladled soup into bowls on the table. Dopey lit a fire, which made the room toasty. Then they all sat and ate. The men slurped loudly, but there wasn’t much talking. Grumpy kept watching her, but every time she made eye contact, he looked away. Between the fire and the lanterns glowing in various corners of the room, Snow suddenly realized that she felt quite safe and warm, a sharp contrast to how she had felt only a few hours before. Maybe that’s what continued to make her feel so bold.

  “That was delicious, Princess,” said Happy, patting his round stomach.

  “I’m so glad you liked it,” she said. “While we all digest, I was hoping you could tell me more about the diamond mining and how the queen has altered your original arrangement.”

  Grumpy dropped his spoon onto the table with a thud. “See? Told you she had a motive.”

  “If I’m going to stop my aunt’s reign, I think it’s important I know what she’s done to those in the kingdom. Don’t you?” Snow asked, looking at Grumpy, then at Doc. “As you said, I may be our kingdom’s only hope.” She hoped she hadn’t gone too far, but now that she’d gotten kernels of information about the happenings in the kingdom, she craved more.

  Grumpy leaned back in his chair, tipping it so far she was sure he’d fall. He looked her square in the eye. “All right. We’ll talk. But we have some questions, too.”

  “We do?” Bashful spoke up. Grumpy gave him a look.

  “Fair enough,” Snow agreed. “If you would be so kind, could you tell me the true condition of the mines?”

  The men looked at one another. “For years, the queen has ruined our commerce,” Grumpy complained.

  “King Georg always had us meet a quota, but as payment for a job well done we could keep a percentage of our findings,” Doc added.

  “But this queen wants it all! She is so selfish she has led the kingdom to believe the mines are dried up, when they are not,” Grumpy spat.

  “We’ve heard stories up and down the land of the jewels she’s claimed as her own,” said Happy.

  “The rugs and the gold that are meant for trade wind up in the castle, locked in her quarters, while in the streets, people are starving!” Sneezy added.

  “And still she sends her henchmen to check our mines to make sure she gets it all,” Bashful told her.

  Snow clenched her fists. “I had no idea this was happening. How has she gotten away with this?”

  “Her guards keep her well protected and her court is afraid of her wrath,” said Sleepy. “No one will question her decisions.”

  “We are honorable men,” Happy added. “We may not be family in the traditional sense, but we have stuck together for years, and we are barely scraping by.”

  “Look around you, Princess,” Doc piped up. “Do we look like we are living beyond our means? No. We can’t afford her taxes.”

  “We don’t touch the diamonds we’ve hidden away,” Sleepy added. “They’re only for a rainy day.”

  “I won’t say anything,” Snow vowed. “It sounds like you are actually owed money by the kingdom. I won’t take away what’s rightfully yours. You can trust me.”

  “Trust. Humph! You’re related to her!” Grumpy pointed out.

  “But we are not family,” Snow said. “She certainly has never treated me as such. Even after my mother died and my father left, she left me to fend for myself.” She spotted a carving of a bird etched into the men’s fireplace. It made her think of her mother. She’d have loved this humble abode and the people who lived in it. She’d have wanted to hear their worries and their triumphs. She would’ve tried to help. If the former queen couldn’t be there to do it, it was up to Snow to. “The kingdom is falling apart, and as you said, people need help.” She thought of her mother and how she had tried to help everyone she met. She thought of her father opening the gates so their people could feel like family. Her aunt did none of that. “She isn’t running the kingdom like a queen should.”

  “And you think you can defeat her?” Grumpy looked skeptical. “Why, before today, it sounds like you didn’t even know what was going on in your own kingdom! And she wants you dead! You don’t have a chance on your own.”

  That could be true, Snow realized with a sinking heart. What good was an army of one? The queen had magic. What did Snow have? Maybe she was a fool for thinking she could do more. But still, knowing what she did now, how could she not try?

  “But she might with our help,” Happy suggested, and Snow looked at him hopefully.

  Friends. Allies. That could make a difference. “I would welcome any help you could offer,” Snow said.

  “She can’t stay here,” Grumpy said. “We have enough troubles.”

  “Every month, the queen sends her men to check on us,” Sneezy explained. “They just came this week, so no one will be around again for a while. You are safe here for now, but we don’t have much to offer. We barely have enough to survive the month.”

  “Safe? She’s not staying!” Grumpy insisted again. “The queen probably already knows you’re here, or she’s having you followed.” He looked out the window again. “They say she’s good at dark magic! She can see all!” A few of the men looked alarmed.

  “But she thinks I’m dead,” Snow reminded them. She rose to her full height. “The queen wanted the heir to the throne disposed of so she could keep it for herself. From what you say, she’s clearly not taking care of our people.” She cleared her throat, voicing her anger at the injustices she’d learned about. “Her reign cannot be allowed to continue. I will fight her to my last breath.” As she said the words, she knew them to be true.

  “What if she tries to destroy us for taking you in?” Bashful asked. In the distance, they heard a wolf howl, and he shuddered. “We’ve managed to avoid her notice for so long.”

  “Avoid her? She takes all we have,” Doc reminded him. “Soon there will be nothing left and she’ll be done with us, too. I say we help the princess.” He smiled at her.

  Dopey walked over and stood by Snow’s seat.

  “I do, too,” said Happy, as did Sneezy and Sleepy. Bashful agreed, too. Everyone looked at Grumpy, the one holdout. He sat with his arms folded across his chest, staring at the fire instead of her.

  “I won’t let her continue to harm my people,” Snow declared again, her voice commanding. “If you help me, I will work hard to bring peace and prosperity back to this kingdom, as it had once before.” She looked at Grumpy. “I know I’ve let you down, but I won’t anymore. You don’t know what I’ve been through. All because I’ve been afraid.” She straightened her shoulders and looked at them with steely determination. “I’m not anymore.”

  Grumpy studied her for a moment. Finally, he spoke. “Fine. We’ll offer o
ur assistance.” The other men smiled.

  “Thank you,” Snow said, feeling relief seep through her. For the first time in a long while, she was no longer alone. Somehow, she had found these small men, and now they were her allies. It felt like fate.

  Mother, Father, I won’t disappoint you again, she thought.

  Snow sat back down. “First, we need a plan.”

  Dopey ran and found a scroll and some quills. She took a quill gratefully as the other men resumed their places at the table.

  She looked at the others. “Now. Let’s see how we’re going to take back our kingdom.”

  Nineteen years earlier

  They couldn’t have been happier.

  Ingrid had thought the attraction would fade eventually. The farmer and his wife barely looked at each other. Her own father and mother, in what limited memories she had of them together, certainly hadn’t shown affection toward one another in front of their daughters. But King Georg and Katherine were different. Their love only seemed to grow.

  The farmer had no qualms about giving Katherine’s hand away, but he didn’t want to be burdened with Ingrid. Katherine offered her a room in the castle, but Ingrid didn’t need her sister’s pity. She had taken up residence on her master’s floor almost immediately. It wasn’t ideal, but at least she was free.

  She grinned painfully through the royal wedding, with all its pomp and circumstance. Everyone was thrilled by the idea that a commoner could marry royalty, that Katherine had impressed the king with her innovation and her goodness. The fanfare caused the kingdom to grind to a complete halt. Not a single subject worked that day; no fields were sown nor quarries mined. They were all invited to the celebration. Ingrid thought the move was foolish. The kingdom could have been pillaged as the people danced, but Katherine was sure it would not be. And Georg, of course, listened.