Page 27 of Snow White and the Seven Little Miners
“Yes,” Der said, taking off his spectacles and digging out his ragged handkerchief to wipe them.
“I can’t even imagine,” Snow said softly. “Every one of you is so brave.”
“Well, we don’t have much choice,” Der said with a sigh. “But we do what we can to be happy out here.”
“Hardwic makes you happy?”
“Oh yes.”
“But, you do not mind him being with… with me?” Snow asked.
“Oh, goodness, not at all,” Der said, giving Snow a sunny smile. “One thing we have learned is that sharing everything and working together is the easiest way to survive. There are so many forms of love, and none are right or wrong. I always say, your heart never runs out of space. It just grows bigger to take it all in.”
“I like that,” Snow said with a soft laugh. “I have space for all of you in my heart too.”
“As do we for you, my boy,” Der replied, giving him a fond smile.
“I asked Bernhardt, but he said that Hardwic never talks about what he used to do before he came here.”
“Oh, yes,” Der said, clearing his throat a little nervously. “I… I actually do know, he… confided in me years ago. But I have sworn not to tell anyone. It is not my story to tell.”
“Then you should say no more,” Snow said, giving a solemn nod. He was not about to try to break the trust that Hardwic had put in his lover. Instead, he leaned down to give Der a quick kiss on the nose, because he knew it would make the older man blush, and it did.
There was a sudden knock at the wooden door of the cottage. Snow jumped. He had never heard that sound here, and certainly if the others had returned, they would just enter, not knock on their own door. Der looked surprised too, but not as much as Snow. “Go hide in the bedroom. I will see who it is,” he said.
Snow hurried into the other room, moving to one corner to be as out of sight as possible, his heart racing. Could it be someone coming for him? Was Der about to be hurt because of him?
He could hear Der and another voice at the door talking for a few minutes before there was silence again, and Der came into the bedroom. “It’s all right, you can come out now. A traveling lacemaker,” he explained. “We do occasionally get peddlers who come by. It’s not often, but the guards at the mine are always ready to spend coin on any amusement they can get to relieve their boredom.”
“I’d believe that,” Snow said with a soft chuckle, his heart finally slowing to its normal rhythm in his chest now that the possible danger had passed. “I imagine they have less to worry about when the palace takes care of all of their basic needs.”
“Right you are, my boy. Status and money let people live very different lives, even if we all have the same amount of time.”
Snow nodded slowly as they made their way back to the table where they had been working. “I’ve noticed. My days in the palace were much different than here. But,” he added, giving Der a sweet smile, “I wouldn’t give these up for anything.”
“We love having you here with us, Snow. Though of course, we’d much rather you be safe and not have to hide at all.”
“I just want to be able to help,” Snow sighed. “There is so much change that needs to happen. I certainly could not do it all on my own. But under my mother, it will never happen.”
“We can’t predict what the future holds,” Der said, giving his arm a light squeeze. “One day, everything might change. You never know.”
Fifteen
Everything had fallen apart in a matter of days. Red had disappeared in the Dark Forest. Her son was still alive. Her geist had broken free from her control and torched a good chunk of the palace. The Queen’s rage knew no bounds. For days, she locked herself in her chamber and would not open the door for anyone. But the servants could hear screams and the sound of breaking glass quite frequently. No one dared go near her. Nearly all of her meals remained untouched outside her door. Only her gemstones and other items she used in making her magical potions were accepted, the door opening quickly before being slammed once more with a thunderous crash.
Her huntsman had been a weak-willed man, his heart too feeble for such an important job. Her geist would have finished the task but for the magic that bound him to her being broken, and she could not recall him to her service, no matter how many spells she tried. It seemed that she was now on her own. Never send a man to do a woman’s job, she thought to herself, especially one that you want done right. She would go herself and kill Makellos with her own hands. Then she would know thejob was complete and done to her satisfaction. No frail shreds of sympathy, no unlucky ties being broken.
Once her mind was made up on this matter, she searched and searched through her books for weeks on end. She had to find the most appropriate and effective way to bring about Makellos’ demise. Something simple. Brute force had not worked, nor had stealthy silence. It was time to try a more tender approach. Perhaps the only time she had ever considered being tender to her son, the radiant boy that had grown to outshine her. She needed something that would be easy to transport and that would hold its magic until it was called upon, for she would have to travel and search for him. Her Shadow had only told her the mountain foothills, and that spanned quite a long part in the south of the kingdom.
She finally found a manner that would be simple and effective. A poisoned brew that would bring about the Sleeping Death. It could be administered in a multitude of ways, but she already knew exactly how she could do it. Makellos loved apples. He always had, ever since he was a child. The beautiful ruby red ones were his favorite; he could never resist them. It was perfect. She would poison an apple, then travel the mountain range until she found where Makellos had hidden himself.
She read down the page to where the antidote was written. Every magical spell or potion could be reversed in some way, so she had to ensure that it was not a simple process to bring him back. Very few people, if any, would know the remedy for a black magic spell such as this, but there was certainly a chance at pure luck. At the bottom of the page, she read aloud to herself. “The victim of the Sleeping Death spell may be revived by True Love’s Kiss.”
She laughed a horrid laugh. No fear of that. She knew there was no one in the palace that he considered a True Love. She had seen to that throughout his childhood, that he never got too closeto any of the servants, never spent a long time with any foreign nobles. Any love that he might have had in the palace would be unrequited; no one in the palace knew where the prince was anyway. And with luck, Makellos might be entirely alone in his hiding place. Even if he was not, surely whomever found him dead-asleep would bury him, or, better still, burn him upon a pyre. Once his eyes closed forever, she need not concern herself with what happened to his body.
She spent a sleepless night mixing the exact potion needed for the Sleeping Death. She summoned a servant to bring her a basket of fruit along with the most beautiful red apple in their storeroom. When the servant returned, the Queen took the single red apple into her hidden chamber where she had the bubbling concoction ready.
She dipped the apple into the swirling mixture. The sickly, viscous fluid clung to it like a coating of sugar. It seeped into the apple’s tender skin like sand absorbing water, the apple shriveling like a shrunken head, turning black with withered pits like empty eye sockets in an ancient skull. Then it turned completely red once more, rosy bright. The perfect temptation.
