The Evil Queen

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The Evil Queen Page 30

by Showalter, Gena


  Vikander brought me three meals a day. Twice, he created a metal tub from a metal shaving and filled it with water from the enchanted canteen. Cold water. He then sent a maid to scrub my back and style my hair.

  I would have welcomed the help, but he’d sent Annica, Roth’s former girlfriend. The smoky-eyed beauty with curves for miles I’d once seen in a vision.

  When she’d laughed and told me, “Princess Truly spoke of you to Princess Farrah, and mentioned Prince Roth’s abhorrence to you.” I hadn’t punched her—proof I wasn’t the Evil Queen. Such restraint!

  Also, I still wasn’t jealous of Farrah’s beauty. Her strength was another story. Gimme!

  Footsteps sounded. Who would visit me this time? Vikander? Truly and Farrah?

  A familiar symphony played. Rattling keys, squeaking hinges. As the cell door swung open, I shoved the sliver of enchanted glass inside my pillow and sat up on my brand-new cot.

  In walked Roycefus, the king’s top advisor. He wore another velvet-soft robe and carried the same stone tablet.

  Clad in a serviceable brown dress made from lava ants and poison ivy—surely—I didn’t feel like a lady, so I didn’t bother acting like one. “What do you want?”

  He scanned the cell, features pinched with disapproval. “King Challen would like to meet you, but he’s in no condition to climb the tower steps. Therefore, I will escort you to him.”

  “Is he getting weaker?” He must be. Before this, he’d expressed zero interest in me. Or... “Has Roth returned?” Anticipation sang in my blood, a melody both hypnotic and grating. I’d checked the glass mere hours ago, but I’d seen nothing. Why? Was he...? No! He lived. I would believe nothing less. “Am I supposed to perform the healing ceremony?” Whatever it was. No one seemed to have a clue.

  “The prince has not returned, and no preparations have been made for the ceremony. But King Challen has weakened.” Very well. I would use this meeting to advance my plan.

  Trying to disguise my eagerness, I eased to my feet. “Well? Let’s get this over with.”

  He led me out the door, and I wondered—again—if he was one of the seven.

  A guard stepped forward to offer his assistance, but Roycefus waved him away. “According to Princess Truly, she cannot mount an escape. Brute force is unnecessary.”

  “How...kind of the princess to share my plight with others,” I muttered. Meanwhile, my mind shouted, Betrayer!

  As the advisor led me around corners, down hallways and different flights of stairs, the furnishings became more elaborate. Even the air changed, warming and sweetening. Quiet voices created a cacophony of sound, and I picked up a smattering of words. “Sorceress.” “Prisoner.” “Healer.”

  Finally, we reached the room I’d seen in my vision—the one with the wall of windows overlooking the mountain. A crystal chandelier hung from a circular cutout of stained glass. Cream-colored stucco walls boasted swirling designs. An ivory grand piano occupied one corner, a small table another. A marble hearth crackled with flames.

  The king reclined upon a plush couch, wearing a plain white tunic with an ankle-length hem. A nightshirt? He’d lost weight. His already-thin hair had thinned some more, and his weathered cheeks had sunk in.

  Keen intelligence glowed in his emerald eyes—eyes so like Roth’s. Pang. While his body had deteriorated, his mind remained sharp.

  Armed guards watched me from posts throughout the room, ready to pounce as Roycefus led me to the chair directly across from the king.

  Challen waved his advisor away, saying, “I will speak with the girl alone.”

  Clipped nod. Roycefus gave my hand a comforting pat before stalking to the door. None of the guards followed, so I guessed they didn’t count as observers.

  “I am honored to make your acquaintance,” Challen said.

  “Then you must have forgotten I’m an evil sorceress.”

  “Are you evil, then?”

  Leaning back, I kicked up my feet, resting my heels on a coffee table made of emeralds. “I’m not not evil.”

  He thought for a minute, then sighed. “Ever since my son sent a missive attempting to end his engagement to Princess Truly, I’ve been eager to meet you.”

  What! Roth had asked to break his engagement, despite the potential for war? “You should do it. If they get hitched, they’ll make each other miserable.” Helping Roth carve out a better future while you suffer? Fool!

  “They might be miserable,” he said, “but they will live, and that is what matters. That is why I fight to survive. Why I will do anything to survive. Other kingdoms would raze us to the ground, just to gain control of our mountains and the precious stones we mine. My battle magic stops them from even trying.”

  I perked up. “Battle magic?”

  Nod. “I am able to predict an enemy’s every move and create the perfect counterstrikes.”

  I took his words for what they were: a warning. “So what does your battle magic tell you to do about me in general?”

  He heaved a weary sigh. “To free you.”

  Seriously? Hope bloomed, only to die a quick death when he added, “But I will not. As my body weakened, my magic has weakened, as well. No longer can I trust its leadings. Instead, I rely on my oracle. She claims you will save me.”

  Oh, really? “What did she say, exactly?”

  He closed his eyes and recited, “With hair as pale as moonbeams, eyes like mirrors framed in gold, and an apple forever within reach, she will burn with fury and save the mighty King of Sevón.”

  I remembered the second vision I’d had of this man, as different blondes introduced themselves and revealed their palms and wrists. He’d been hunting for me even then, searching for the girl with an apple forever within reach.

  “So sure I have an apple within reach?” I asked, stroking my fingers over my wrist cuff.

  “Prove you do not. Remove the cuffs.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I will willingly, happily save you. Today. If you vow to free me afterward, and if you remove the torque. I cannot syphon from healers while I’m wearing it.”

  “I’m sorry, Everly, but I cannot let you go. Not today. Not ever.” Sadness emanated from him. “You play a part in Farrah’s fairy tale.”

  Her fairy tale? As if the rest of us merely served as fodder to advance her plot. Hardly! “You are sentencing me to life in prison for crimes I have yet to commit.” The fury he’d mentioned? Yeah, it already blazed in my heart.

  “I do realize this, but I will not be swayed. The well-being of my children, and my kingdom, comes first.”

  The envy I had for Farrah doubled. Tripled. She had something I’d always wanted but had never received—a father’s unconditional love. “You think you can change fate?” I asked.

  “I think I must try.”

  “Then stop courting my wrath. Right now, I can forgive my mistreatment. I want to help you, and I want to move on. But the longer you lock me away, the more I dream of retaliating.”

  Just as stubborn as his son, he said, “That is a risk I’m willing to take.”

  Swallow your frustration. Remain calm. Denial today didn’t have to mean denial tomorrow. I could change his mind. I had to change his mind.

  Or maybe I had to goad him into performing the ceremony sooner rather than later? “Then I’ve just moved Farrah’s pain and torment to the top of my To Do list. Roth has spot number two. Too bad you won’t live long enough to protect them. Wanna bet on when you’ll die?”

  If he were anyone else, if the situation were any different, I would have been revolted by my conduct. But the Charmaines had stripped me of everything but my wits—and my temper.

  With determination and desperation calling the shots, I looked him over and smirked. “My guess? You’ll die in a matter of days. You’ve been getting steadily worse, I’d guess, growing a little weaker every day?” I le
aned forward and smiled cruelly. “In the fairy tale, Snow White’s father dies soon after the Queen of Evil enters their lives.”

  He went ghost-pale. “Guards. Escort the prisoner to her room.”

  Two soldiers stomped over to haul me to my feet. I was shoved none too gently into the hall.

  “Careful, boys.” I batted my lashes at one, then the other. “My online review is already hovering in the one-star range.”

  Just as the door closed behind us, I heard the king command, “Fetch Noel. Quickly! I must consult my oracle.”

  I grinned and practically floated back to my cell.

  29

  With this ring, I thee wed.

  With this dagger, your blood runs red.

  Only an hour later, Annica marched into my cell with a basket of goodies: a white gown, sparkly slippers and an array of toiletries.

  I bathed in Vikander’s tub, happy to be clean again, then sat before the unlit hearth. No one trusted me with a fire. Annica brushed my hair a bit too roughly, then styled the locks into elaborate braids around my head.

  I dressed after secretly tying the enchanted glass to my thigh. The white silk gown molded to my curves. The slippers were a perfect fit, as well.

  “Why so fancy?” I asked, pulling at the torque. The metal remained in place.

  “I do not know,” she muttered. “I do what the king commands.”

  “And you’d rather be anywhere else, helping anyone but the sorceress.”

  “Yes! Especially the girl foretold to harm our beloved royals.”

  More hate. Yawn. I searched the basket, hoping to find a mirror. “I hear you used to date—sorry, court Roth.”

  She ripped the basket from my grip, snapping, “We ended our relationship when the king announced his engagement.”

  So, a year ago. Unless she was lying. Instinct told me she wasn’t, that she would be bragging if she’d nailed him since then. Which meant I’d seen the past. Which meant my magic was amazing!

  “Did the honorable prince promise you a happily-ever-after and then renege?” I asked with an exaggerated pout.

  She sniff-sniffed. “He didn’t need to promise me anything. His eyes spoke for him.”

  So she’d woven a pipe dream. “What are my eyes telling you?”

  She studied me and laughed. Laughed! “You want him, and you actually believe he’ll want you back. You, a sorceress.”

  “That never gets old,” I muttered.

  “Hear me well, sorceress. I grew up in this palace, and I love the Charmaines. There is no finer family in all the lands. If you hurt them in any way...”

  Such vehemence. Then and there I knew beyond a doubt I’d found one of Farrah’s Seven Protectors.

  In order to craft a better defense and offense, I needed to identify all seven. I hadn’t wanted a war, but the Charmaines had given me one.

  I had more questions for Annica, but Vikander entered the chamber, looking dapper in a white jacket with gold trim and black slacks. His dark skin glittered more than usual

  With a tilt of his chin, he dismissed the lady-in-waiting. As soon as she scurried out, he pinned me with a glare. “The ceremony isn’t supposed to take place until Roth’s return. Whatever you said to move up the timetable, you’re going to regret it.”

  I wanted to whoop with excitement. And cry. “Why?”

  “Noel explained the healing ceremony to us.”

  Uh-oh. “And?”

  “Congratulations. You’re getting married.”

  * * *

  I fought. I fought so hard, but Roth’s compulsion forced me to walk to the ballroom, where the marriage ceremony would be held. One step, two. Three. I couldn’t stop.

  Marry Challen...

  Even the idea sent me into a tailspin of panic because (1) I was only seventeen and had no desire to tie my life to another person in holy matrimony; (2) I had no desire to marry the old king, specifically; (3) If I did marry the king, fate would win this round.

  I would officially qualify as the Queen of Evil. No symbolism required.

  “Don’t make me do this,” I pleaded. Hating him, hating myself.

  “I must. I am bound by duty.” Merciless, Vikander ushered me deeper into a ballroom.

  Heavy breaths sawed in and out of my mouth. Light flickered from golden sconces, highlighting intricate wall murals. Brighter light spilled from a massive chandelier, glistening crystals illuminating a large crowd of onlookers—a sea of unfamiliar faces, sparkling jewels, lace gowns and velvet suits. Every gaze rested upon me. Some people watched with pity, others with envy or intrigue.

  If not for the torque, I could have drained everyone and blown this joint for good.

  I would do anything for power right now.

  In attendance, countless fairies with glittering skin in various shades of white, black and brown as well as winged avian, with skin in various shades of purple, blue, red and green. There were a handful of minotaurs, centaurs and creatures I hadn’t come across before. Like the woman with tiny snakes attached to her scalp (gorgon), the man surrounded by a strange red glow (phoenix) and the teenage girl with a beaked nose, feathers instead of hair, and tiny, delicate wings (harpy). Some attendees wore wrist cuffs, some didn’t.

  Oh, look. There was Roycefus, standing with the other advisors. He seethed with disapproval, so I crossed his name off the Seven Protectors list.

  Problem was, he didn’t protest. No one did.

  Close to hyperventilating, I searched that sea of unfamiliar faces. Surely there was one person with honor or integrity, who would stand up and defend me. Someone? Anyone?

  Someone fair—

  I laughed without an ounce of humor. Fair. Finally, I understood what EQ had meant in “Little Snow White,” when she’d requested the “fairest of them all.”

  The fairy tale was unfolding right before my eyes.

  If Snow White was the fairest, as the fairy tale promised, she would offer me aid.

  Afraid to hope, I scanned the crowd once again. There. Farrah and Truly pushed their way to the front, both wearing pale pink gowns and enough jewels to sink a ship. How sweet. They’d dressed for the occasion—Everly’s downfall.

  Did they protest? No.

  Why, why, why had I rushed this ceremony? Why hadn’t I waited for Roth? “How would you feel if someone stripped you of your free will and forced you to marry someone you didn’t love?”

  Truly opened and closed her mouth before averting her gaze.

  Behold, the Huntsman’s betrayal.

  Tears welled in Farrah’s eyes, but she spoke not a word.

  All hope burned to ash, and burrowed deep into my heart. Every beat gave me life and poisoned me anew.

  “Your brother will be furious.” Or mildly perturbed. Though he despised me, he would never force me to marry his father. Despite his faults, he was fair. “He commanded us to wait for his return.”

  Silence.

  Had he even heard of these nuptials? Would he rush to the rescue any second? I needed to stall, just in case. Threats wouldn’t work. I needed to run, hide.

  Preparing to bolt in three...two...one!

  Nooo! Compulsion forced me to take another step, another and another, until I stood beside King Challen, the groom, who leaned against a cane, sweat dotting his brow.

  Until Roth released me from the compulsion, I had no choice but to follow through with this indecent proposal.

  Any second now...

  No harried footsteps. No shouted command to stop.

  Don’t cry. Never reveal a weakness an enemy can exploit. Hysteria loomed. “How will a wedding ceremony heal you, King Challen?”

  “I don’t know. I’m told it will.”

  “Don’t believe everything you’re told! Take what I said, for instance. I was wrong to taunt you. You’re not going t
o die today or tomorrow.” He might die today or tomorrow. His breaths now rattled. “Please, don’t do this.” Begging again? When would I learn? Begging revealed weakness as surely as tears and would get me nothing but censure and disappointment.

  Anguish darkened the king’s eyes. I thought I’d reached him. Then he tottered, nearly falling over. “I’m sorry, Everly. We do this today. Now.”

  Murmurs rose from the crowd, the sea of people parting. Ophelia and Noel strode down the newly created path. The witch wore a skimpier-than-usual leather ensemble, and the oracle wore a kind of frilly pink bathrobe. Her feet remained bare.

  “Everly! So good of you to come to your wedding.” Noel smiled and waved. “All is well, I hope.”

  I’ll see you at the wedding.

  Never in a million years would I have guessed Ophelia had referenced my wedding. “Get me out of here, and I’ll pay anything.” I would even forgive her for her crimes. “Help me!”

  She scratched her head and looked up at the taller Ophelia. “I thought that’s what I was doing.”

  “It is.” The witch eyed me expectantly. “Some people don’t know when to be grateful.”

  Hate these two! I wished I’d never promised safe passage if ever I ruled a kingdom. Because if this wedding persisted, I would be ruling this kingdom. “Contact Roth.” My gaze darted between them. “Tell him what’s about to happen.”

  “Are you kidding?” Noel spread her arms, all does no one ever listen to me anymore? “He might put a stop to it.”

  I withered. Alone, outnumbered and outmagicked. A true damsel in distress.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” Remaining out of my strike zone, Noel climbed onto the royal dais. “A wedding and a funeral, both in one day. A beginning and an end.”

  Funeral? Whose? Mine? Had to be. No one else was panicking, as if they knew a secret I did not.

  “Vikander.” Swaying, inhalations more labored, Challen said, “Begin.”

 

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