Page 53 of Snow Hunted

I rolled my eyes at the interruption and let my fork drop to my bowl with a loud clatter to show my annoyance.

“I’m sorry my Queen. I can tell them you’re busy.”

“Yes.” Why was she such an idiot? She should have thought about that before she came to interrupt me. I looked down at the guroo on my plate, its tentacles still moving. The slimy delicacy was good for revitalizing youth, which was greatly needed. Since Snow’s escape, I’ve been feeling more tired and found two wrinkles on my forehead.

Wrinkles!

“Should I-”

I cut my eyes at her and she stopped talking. As she slowly closed the door, I heard her say a name.

I yelled out a garble of sounds, not quite sure what her name was.

She opened the door again. “I’m sorry, my Queen. Did you say something?”

“Yes. Did you say the huntsman is here?”

“Yes, my Queen. I’m asking him to leave now.”

“Nonsense. Bring him in right away.”

Confused by my change, she stumbled over herself, then mumbled something to the huntsman.

A moment later he walked into the room carrying with him the silver box.

My eyes grew wide and I can barely contain my excitement. “You found her!”

He nodded, but didn’t speak.

I nearly tripped over myself racing to him and snatched the box out of his hands and took it back to the table to slowly opened it and then snapped the lid shut with excitement. I gently opened it again, this time letting the lid fully rock back, observing with the greatest delight a set of two beautifully preserved organs- a heart and a liver.

“Well done huntsman. I have heard great things about you and your family. You come from a long lineage of royal servants, unlike your fellow huntsman.” I felt a flash of fire sweep across my eyes at the memory of all the other huntsmen I had killed for their betrayal. “But that was in the past and they have all paid the price.”

He nodded, but didn’t speak and showed no sign of sympathy.

Did he not understand? All my children, those huntsmen had killed over the years. A shiver went up my spine at the horrible thought. It wasn’t their deaths that bothered me, so much as the years of wasted youth I could have extracted from them.

It’s ok though.

They took my youth, so I took their children.

One by one, I killed them and sent the parents' pieces of their children in a silver box… every year on the anniversary of their death.

A warning to all others who would try to cross me.

For good measure, though, I began surrogating my children out. Snow was the first.

Surely the others wouldn’t be as difficult as she had been.

She was always a horrible child, so many mistakes made with the first, I suppose.

I would have to go check on the others. The second one should be getting close to age.

“Chef!” I yelled.

He came scurrying out of the kitchen a second later.

I handed him the silver box. “Prepare these for me. I will have them for dinner tonight.”

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