Page 44 of Snow White

Lady Lock’s knee starts to shake as we approach, but she offers us a bright smile. Belle waves before pulling out her book and flipping through the pages.

“Are you guys excited?” I ask.

“Nervous. I feel like I’m about to vomit.” Lady Lock gulps.

Belle pats the woman’s hand, her focus still on her book. “You’ll be amazing. Much better than…” Belle trails off and waves her hand toward Princess Petunia as she throws her head back and emits a loud screeching sound that echoes through the room. So she is going to be… singing? I hate being rude, but I have to cover my ears. She sounds like a dying seagull.

My attention moves back to Lady Lock, who is turning a bit green. I take her hands in mine and rub my thumbs over the backs. I summon my ice, cooling my touch. The effect is meant to soothe, and it looks like it is working.

“Breathe with me,” I whisper.

Lady Lock nods, taking deep breaths. I smile at her, and she returns a weak grimace.

“We shall now begin the showcase,” my brother announces from the stage. When did he arrive?

Eric stands beside our father, his eyes looking over the women gathered. He takes his time, looking at each one. I assume he is testing to see if they will melt beneath his gaze. I can hear the women at the nearest table sigh, and I shake my head. My brother did have a point. He is the test to see if these women will be loyal to our father.

Princess Petunia is up first, gracing us with her seagull-like voice. I watch my father from the corner of my eye, and even he can’t help but wince. She will be going home tonight, which isn’t much of a loss. I’d overheard her talking about Azura in a nasty tone. She called her a manipulative bitch.It made my blood boil, and I almost froze her into an ice sculpture.

Once she finishes, two other princesses go. The first woman does a dance. She is beauty and grace personified, and even I am entranced. The latter plays the piano, the music so long and somber that Belle nearly falls asleep. I giggle softly at her, and she hits my shoulder.

“Lady Lock,” Eric announces.

I lean over, kissing Lock’s cheek. “You can do this.”

Lock nods anxiously before standing and making her way to the stage. She takes her seat and arranges her knitting.

“There was once a little girl made of ice,” Lock begins, her needles flashing as she starts to knit. “She was different from the others and not just because of her abilities. This girl was kind and giving. Many would call her naïve, but she was more than that. Everyone she talked to felt the touch of her goodness, spreading light and happiness to all.”

Lady Lock’s hands moved as if without thought, the needles clicking softly in the quiet of the room as she held all within her thrall.

“One day, she met someone who was the complete opposite of her, a being crowded with hate and emptiness. Their souls called to one another, and their personalities shifted to complement the other. But something stood in their way, an evil unknown to both of them. Will they be able to stop this evil before it consumes them? Only time will tell.”

Lady Lock flips the small blanket she’d created. She had done it with a speed I didn’t know was possible. The blanket depicts two women in silhouette, holding hands as they look at the setting sun. It is breathtaking, and I can hardly look away from it. Lady Lock is truly talented.

Everyone claps for her as she stands. Her face flushes red as she scurries from the stage and back to her seat. I smile at her, taking her hand as Azura makes her way to the stage. She stops next to a bowl of shiny red apples and picks up a bow and quiver of arrows. She tosses each apple but one into the air, shooting her arrow and hitting them all in one go, pinning them against a target set up against the wall. My jaw drops in awe, and I shift in my seat, arousal rippling through me.

Azura turns to look at us, bowing before grabbing the last apple from the bowl and stepping off the stage. My eyes track her, observing the blush above her breasts. The events of this morning play through my mind, and I don’t fight the memories. I hunger to feel her tongue against my clit again. Remembering how she ran it in lazy circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves until she brought me to climax makes my body heat in anticipation. It was pure bliss, and I need more.

Belle steps onto the stage, catching my attention. She tells her story, her voice wrapping each of us in her spell, though not everyone is watching. I can’t take my eyes off Azura as she weaves through the tables. She winks at my father and gives him the last apple before sitting beside me. My heart twists in my chest.I want that apple.

I focus back on Belle but don’t notice when she is done until everyone starts clapping. I join in, but I wish Azura would give me the look she gave my father. Even though my stomach twists with jealousy, I crave her. As the show ends, my father stands to address everyone.

“Thank you for sharing your talents with us. It was extremely enjoyable to watch, and it helps me get to know you all just a little better,” he says, his voice filled with warmth. “Tonight, a few of you lovely ladies will be sent back to your homes. It was a pleasure to meet you, and I hope you are able to find love with others. For the rest of you, I will be back in a week. When I am, I will arrange dates with each of you. I am truly excited to get to know you all more. It is now time for me to depart. I will see you ladies soon.”

I smile sadly as I rise and hurry to him. He wraps his arms around me in a tight hug.

“Be safe, Papa,” I whisper.

“I will,” he says, pressing a kiss to my head before releasing me. I watch as he turns and leaves.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Azura

There’s a palpable shift in the room after the king leaves. It is as if everything was barely held in check by his presence, and the moment he’s gone, all propriety is lost. I lick my lips absently, savoring the taste of frosted apples, as I watch the post-show. The women focus on Eric, openly assessing him like predators preparing to attack. I can’t help but roll my eyes. They are so transparent, and they’re meant to be competing for hisfather,not him.

How does no one else see how empty he is? He is a storm with skin, a smile without a soul, yet these women hope to draw his attention. To his credit, though his gaze moves over them slowly and an arrogant smirk plays with his lips, his eyes don’t change. He’s feigning interest, going through the motions.

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