Once Upon a Time: The Villains (19 page)

My smile tensed as I slid my hand away. “Do you enjoy your job, woodsman?”

When his gaze rose to my face, I was greeted with the same adoring look I’d come to expect from all of my subjects. “I do, Your Majesty.”

My smile widened. Leaning forward, I stroked his rugged, stubbled cheek. “And do you wish to please me?”

He grabbed my hand and held it to his face. “Above all else, my queen. Your voice is that of the lark greeting the morning. Your face that of an angel. Your desires are my desires. You wants my—”

“Yes, yes.” Sometimes the adoration bordered on the weary. I drew ever closer until my lips were but a hairsbreadth away from his ear. I must be gentle with my fervor, but I was so close to seeing my wish granted, I could no longer hold back my excitement. It shimmered within my eyes; it raced across my skin; it poured from my lips on a quivering whisper. “And if I command you to take a life?”

He turned his head and kissed the sensitive skin of my palm, murmuring, “I shall do as you bid me. Whatever you want I shall see done.”

My head grew light, and my body shivered with ecstasy. Finally! With Snow White gone, I could breathe freely. A woman like my husband’s daughter was not born every day. I stood, detaching my hand from his firm grip, and skirted the woodsman, my eye centered on an ornate box inlaid with gleaming brass and exotic ivory. I unlocked the box and gazed within at my most favored jewels. Large diamonds and sapphires, rare emeralds, dark rubies and glowing pearls; they all glimmered and winked seductively in the dim light. With little care for their preciousness, I dumped them onto the table. Now was the time to see how far the woodsman’s adoration would carry him. Drawing in a breath, I turned and handed him the box. He took it, his gaze questioning.

“I charge you to kill the princess Snow White and bring me her heart and tongue in this box as a token of your devotion.”

He didn’t so much as flinch, and without being told, he bowed deeply, subserviently, and left.

Such an obedient man. I would have to reward him with something special. Mayhap a new cloak with a silver broach? I spied a broach in the shape of a hawk, wings outstretched in flight, and picked it up. It had sapphires for eyes. With such a gift from his queen, it would surely elevate his status among his peers and keep his tongue from wagging.

That night, I slept like a newborn babe. Indeed, I felt reborn. Soon my curse would be lifted. I would be free. I had to believe it was true. I demanded it be true.

The next day passed excruciatingly slow. And when the night pushed the last vestiges of day against the horizon, the woodsman appeared at my door. It was very late, for only my maid still attended me. I had begun to despair that he had carried out my simple request.

“Let him in,” I told my maid. “And then you may go.”

From the moment the woodsman entered my chambers, I couldn’t take my eyes off the box. It looked no different than when I had given it to him — the brass still gleamed bright and clear, the ivory still glowed a warm ecru. Did he do as I asked?

He knelt at my feet and lifted the box. With shaking hands, I accepted his gift. I opened the lid and drew back, for there, nestled within the white satin lining were a small heart, still flushed red with blood, and a pale-pink tongue.

He’d done it. He’d actually done it.

I slowly closed the lid and laid the box in my lap. Years of living in fear welled up within my eyes. I blinked back the tears and stared at the woodsman whose head was still bowed in submission to me. A cloak of dark green lay folded across my chair. With great care, I placed it about his shoulders and used the silver hawk to secure it. I put my hands on his shoulders and placed a kiss upon both his cheeks. “I am well pleased.”

“I am forever your servant,” he replied. He then stood and left.

What a simple chore. How easily it had been done. Why had I delayed so long in executing it? I reopened the box and called my dogs to my side. I gave one the heart and the other the tongue and laughed as they gobbled them down.

I snapped the lid closed and placed the blood-soaked box in the room with the mirror as a keepsake for all I had had to endure to get this far. A celebration should be ordered, but alas, it would not do well to rouse suspicion. When people began to notice Snow White’s absence, I must appear confused, then angry with her thoughtless absence, and then finally frightened by her unexplained disappearance. I must order a search of the woods, where there would be found the remains of the princess, attacked and half eaten by wild animals.

“How horrific,” I said to my reflection. I may even faint. Yes, that would do nicely. When I rouse myself, a time of mourning will ensue. My subjects will vie for my attention, fighting for the honor of pulling me from my sorrow.

“Black,” I suddenly said, shaking me out of my daydream. My wardrobe was bereft of that color, for I hated it so. I must order dozens of gowns and one especially for the funeral. “I will have a black gown embellished with black seed pearls.” Aye. I shall be the most becoming grieving mother ever seen.

The euphoria that engulfed me was…well, euphoric. Everywhere I looked I saw a happy future for me. The air tasted sweeter, the sky bluer, the grass greener. Life was indeed wondrous to behold. Even during that first month of mourning, my spirit could not be dampened. I was called the shining light in the midst of our nation’s tragedy. I was beloved wherever I went. The people loved me more for the sorrow I must endure once again.

“Such grace in the face of adversity,” I heard one of my subjects say.

“Been through the fire, she has. And look how brightly she glows now,” another replied.

Yes, I was a magnificent sight to behold. As the months passed, I visited the country to revive my people’s faith in me and reestablish the enchantment my beauty would harvest. They would be my children, and I their fair queen. I would cosset them, and give them all they wanted. The euphoria that had embraced me made me forget the boredom of the past few years. I took up the mantle of queen with renewed vigor, helpless to stop the daydreams from roiling through my mind. They were sweet and left me feeling grand. I had done these people a service by extinguishing the poor excuse for a monarch and his kin. I was the treasure they’d found beneath all those layers of dirt.

From my carriage, I smiled wider than I’d ever done before, and the people bowed down before me in awe.

All except one lone figure.

Bent and bowed by years of hard labor, I recognized my mother standing in a sea of adoring faces. She did not smile, nor did she sigh in delight as I passed. She only stared accusingly at me. I blinked, and the figure disappeared. I searched the crowd for the impossible, for I had heard my mother had died years ago. Disturbed by the sight, I bade the royal carriage driver to return us home posthaste.

Why, after all these years, would I see my mother? The vision was disquieting, for it showed her remaining years had not been kind to her. She had looked more hag than the dejected housewife I knew she had been. If the enchantment I lived under ever broke, would I deteriorate into such a wizen, sad sight?

All my old insecurities returned with a vengeance. I couldn’t sleep. I felt the curse swallow my happiness, until one evening, I could no longer endure the torture. I entered the room where the mirror resided. I was confident that even in my disheveled appearance, I was more beautiful than any woman I knew. But I needed to hear it from the mirror.

“Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

The mirror awoke and its eyes sparkled in the dim light.

“Thou wert fairest, Queen of mine,

Now Snow White has beauty fine.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Nay, you must be mistaken.” I picked up the box I had placed in the corner and opened the lid. The dried blood within the interior greeted me with a cloyingly sickly sweet scent of decay. “Her good heart and tongue were given to me. Her death in the woods should have set me free.”

“The huntsman did deceive you well,

He let her live beyond the dell.”

I slammed the lid shut. “Where, oh Mirror, where doth she stay, I vow to see her dead this day.”

“
Amid the forest darkly green,

She lives with dwarfs, though rarely seen.”

Anger pulsed through my veins. I must avenge myself on the princess, but I knew not how. The mirror would tell me. “How may I end Snow White’s young life? For she must die to end my strife.”

“If Snow White’s life you wish to end,

A poisoned apple you must send.”

“You’re right. Her father always grabbed the biggest, juiciest apple for his little angel.”

I thanked the mirror and left the room. I could see the culmination of everything I had worked for was near, and I vowed to end this curse once and for all. The potion I had used on my husband’s family would serve me well. I would use it to poison an apple and deliver it to Snow White. It was fitting she die in the same manner like her family. And when the dwarfs found her dead, they would think she died of the same disease that had infiltrated the castle all those years ago. How utterly poetic.

That night, I carefully dipped the brightest, juiciest red apple I could find in the poison. The apple soaked it up like a sot after cheap wine. Though beautiful to behold, the apple was now rotten to its very core. When it dried, I buffed it until it shone. So tempting was its crimson skin that even I desired a taste.

“Rotten apple for a rotten child. Oh this will be perfect,” I said as I stuffed my prize into a ragged bag. I had transformed myself into an old beggar woman. I had taken the oldest dirtiest gown from the laundry room along with a smelly cloak that possessed a deep cowl. As I lifted the hood over my head, my soot darkened face disappeared within its folds. I would claim blindness and disfigurement, and beg her mercy. I had little doubt she wouldn’t comply. She was ever tenderhearted for the poor wretches of the land.

It took me most of the night to traverse the hills and dales of the country to reach the edge of the forest where the mirror said the dwarves lived. They were a miserable, dirty group of creatures that spent most of their time beneath the ground mining for treasure. Not known for their hospitality, I couldn’t imagine how Snow White had gained an extended invitation. As I trudged through the woods, the heat of the day wore me down. I longed to throw off the oppressive cloak and itchy gown, but I dared not. I felt the eyes of the forest on me. Beggar woman they saw, beggar woman I must be.

Finally, when the sun grew high, chasing all the clouds away, I saw a small cottage…so small that it could only belong to the dwarves. I approached the tiny door like a woman without sight, yet a happy tune flowed from my lips. A quick knock gained me a peek from within. “Hello?”

I could only hope it was Snow White, for I dared not look. I bowed and turned my voice crackly. “I am but a poor, blind, widow woman selling good bites. Will you let me in?”

With eyes averted, I could only see the door open a little more, and hear the answer to my request. “I dare not let anyone enter, good widow. I am not allowed to speak with strangers.”

My heart picked up a beat for it was Snow White. Although I had not seen her in years, the sweetness of her voice had not changed. I had found her exactly where the mirror had said she’d be.

I dug into my bag and produced the ripe apple. It glistened tantalizing in the sun, and I could just imagine her eyes brightening at the sight.

“Oh,” she sighed. “It is truly the most delicious looking apple…but I was warned not to talk to strangers. My wicked stepmother wishes me dead, and I can trust no one.”

“What a hateful woman,” I declared. “A wicked woman indeed. If I were your mother, I would be most blessed, for being disfigured as I am, I would be pleased to see your beautiful countenance every day, and receive the kindness of your spirit.”

The door opened a mite more as I had hoped my flattery would do, and Snow White stepped a bit closer. “You are too kind, good widow. The day is warm. Do you wish for a glass of cool water?”

“I would.” And that was no lie, for my throat had grown parched from my trek through the forest.

She left and returned with the water. I drank deeply, smacking my lips with appreciation. I handed back the cup. “Now you must take this apple as a gift, for I would be a true beggar if I did not repay your kindness.”

“I couldn’t,” she said.

“I insist,” I returned. Back and forth we went until finally, I thrust the apple in her hands and wrapped her fingers around the plump fruit. “I will not hear differently. Now take a bite, for I will not be happy unless I hear you enjoy your treat.”

What could she possibly say to that? She would not wish to see me unhappy. That was not Snow White’s way. So she bit into the apple, and in a heartbeat, she fell down dead.

But this time I would be sure. I checked. No pulse could be found. Overjoyed at my success, I scooped up the apple and raced from the dwarfs’ house. Through the forest and back to my castle I flew, as if my feet had wings and the distance felt but a stone’s throw away.

Panting, I stumbled into my darkened chambers that night and pulled off my disguise. I headed directly to the mirror, and demanded to know, “Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

The mirror’s eyes loomed before me. I waited breathlessly to hear the words I craved above all others.

“Thou art fairest, oh wondrous queen,

The fairest woman I have seen.”

I closed my eyes. Ecstasy raced through me. “It is done. I am fairest once again.” I hugged myself and twirled about until I fell to the floor laughing. The euphoria was back. My life was renewed. I had seen the feat done myself and I knew it to be a job well done. Picking myself off the floor, I went to my bed and slept the whole next day and night. I awoke the day after that with a heart filled with purpose.

Can the joy one feels for freedom ever be truly expressed? No cloud of despair hung over me. Not only had I seen the deed done, but the mirror, the magical mirror that never lied, had confirmed Snow White’s death. A national celebration could be called. No one would think it strange this time, for my step-daughter was already believed dead. I could rejoice in my victory without fear of reprisal.