Page 30 of Snow White

I whirl on my heel as I hear something from the woods, my hands out, ready to cast a defensive spell. There’s nothing there, and I let the black magic die before anyone notices.

I’m losing my mind.

My smile is forced as I turn back to Snow and Belle, but I hope it covers my unease. There is no way I will let anyone or anything take Snow from me. I will stand guard, and I will analyze that instinct another time.

“I’m not much of an artist either, but I’d love to watch.”

“Well, I rarely paint either, but I thought we could just try it?” Snow whispers. My poor anxious princess, desperate for acceptance and friends.

Wait,my?

Belle walks over and grabs a paintbrush. She dips it into the paint and says, “Let’s do this.”

I nod at them both reassuringly. “Go on.”

They laugh as they start to paint. Snow appears to try for a bird but uses too much paint, and Belle’s attempt at a rose turns into a blob. Neither picture is decipherable.

Belle huffs. “This is much too hard.”

Snow laughs. “It looks beautiful.”

My magic flickers in my hands, but I am careful to keep it hidden from Belle and Snow. Their painting soon turns into a battle as they flick paint at each other instead of the canvas, delighting in the day.

I smile softly at them before returning my attention to the woods, my eyes scanning as everything in the forest goes quiet. The sounds of birds and insects vanish. Even the flowers in the grass stop moving.

“Snow? Belle?” I position myself to better protect them. “I don’t believe we are alone anymore.”

Belle flicks paint at me. “Worrywart.”

Snow giggles, and I tense, scanning the horizon. Snow laughs again. “How about we wash up for lunch? I can get someone to fetch this when it dries.”

I nod, keeping my back to them. “Let’s.”

Belle and Snow link hands, walking back toward the palace, as I trail behind. I tense at the door and look back over my shoulder.

The trees are even closer now.

Chapter Twenty

Snow

Over the next couple of days, Belle, Azura, and I spend our free time together. Much of it is spent in silence in the tearoom, and surprisingly, I don’t mind it. I always thought that people had to be speaking at every moment to enjoy friendship, but these silent moments are nice too. It feels good to have another presence in the room. One that I feel comfortable going to if I have questions or I need another’s opinion.

Belle is truly intelligent. At our urging, she has told us of her father’s inventions. Lady Lock is always very interested in hearing about them. Belle knows how each machine works. If she put her mind to it, I am sure she would be able to create any of them or even create her own.

I gave her access to our private library, and so far, she has read at least eight books. That is at least six more than I could read in a couple of days. She absorbs information like no other. If I ask her a question from one of her most recent reads, she can recite the information as if she is reading from the book itself. I am thinking of telling my father to make her an advisor if he doesn’t choose to marry her. Her type of gift should never go unnoticed.

Azura, on the other hand, is as quiet as ever. Her poised and elegant beauty grows daily. Luckily, I have been able to control my thoughts. Only at night do I allow them to wander as my hand strays down my body. She has no idea that she has left me tongue-tied on several occasions. Then again, I do stutter when I am nervous. So, it is not strange that I would trip over my words when my gaze drops lower than I should allow.

As for myself, I have felt less cold. I feel like I am slowly settling into my powers. After eighteen winters, I finally have the confidence to control my body temperature. My power is not controlling me, but I am controlling it. The voices are also quieter in the back of my mind. Some days I don’t even hear the dark thoughts.

I let out a long sigh as I flip through my book. Today, Belle and I went straight to the tearoom. There has been no sign of Azura, but I assume she will be arriving soon.

Only two women have been sent home since the competition began. The first was sent away due to rumors of her conspiring to assassinate my father after the marriage. Instead of sentencing her to death for her treason, he sent her home. There was no solid evidence, and we didn’t want to risk a war.

Her betrayal truly shocked me, and I made a mental note to stay aware of the other princesses. The other woman that went home was an awkward girl. She is barely eighteen, and my father personally felt uncomfortable with the age gap, so she was sent packing.

Even with the two fewer women in the room, the environment is still abuzz with conversation. It is draining to listen to side conversations all day. I discovered that yesterday when listening to three ladies talking about different corsets. I nearly passed out from boredom.

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