Summary: 'Mirror, mirror, on the wall. Who is the most Enchanting of them all?' A saying from a charred queen of an abusive tale. Before the success of the futuristic Sparx by a deceitful queen, the "queen" has a tale of her own romantic, destructive, manipulative, and deadly life. She never wanted to be like this.
'Mirror, mirror, on the wall.
Who is the Enchanting of them all?'
Disenchanting Chapter 1: "Memories"
She was lying on a burning pyre, hot coals beneath her back. Gray ashes floated in her sight, but the mercy of unconsciousness would not come. Her throat felt like sandpaper from the screaming. The smell of her own burning flesh invaded her nostrils. Smoke stung her eyes. Entire swaths of flesh peeled away, revealing the raw tissues underneath.
The pain was relentless; the agony never ended. She had pleaded for the darkness, but it would never grant her mercy.
She reached out with her good hand, trying to escape from the fire, but the bed of burnt wood collapsed under her weight, dragging her deeper into the hell embers.
Through the darken fog, she caught a glimpse of gentle eyes. A kind smile. A finger curled towards her.
'Little Butterfly, I am hereā¦'
Bloom gasped and bolted upward. Her sheets were damp from sweat, but her skin felt like a volcano from the nightmare. Her throat felt dehydrated, as she struggled to swallow her smokey saliva. It was the same hellish dream that had plagued her; She could never escape from the horror.
With a trembling breath, she lay back down. Afraid to close her eyes, she stared up at the canopy and waited for her heartbeat steadied.
A thousand possibilities floated before her. She'd be beautiful, but there were many types of beauty. It could depend on skin tone, hair texture, the shape of eyes, the length of a neck, freckles, and the movement of grace.
Bloom knew a great deal about beauty, just enough like ugliness.
Then she remembered the funeral. She groaned at the thought of how exhausting it would be to hold a deception all day in front of the entire kingdom.
As the dream receded into her subconscious, Bloom looked at herself in the mirror. Her left eye was permanently encircled with a black eye, while her right eye was permanently sealed shut. Rotten tissue was all over her face, forming harden wrinkles. Great chunks of her hair would never grow back. Scars were all over her body. She hated herself, trying to forget what had happened all those years ago.
She quickly remembered her appearance as a child, and changed her look. Fair skin, a perky noise, and red hair that was shoulder-length. Finally, a shade of dark cyan for her eyes with long lashes included. She could have look like this, but it was never meant to be.
A tap interrupted her thoughts.
"You may enter," she commanded. A very-rounded servant entered, carrying a breakfast tray and a dread gown. Bloom had said nothing as the maid placed the clothing on her bed and uncovered the tray with Sparxian Tea and 10 Dragon Berries.
"Is there anything else, Your Highness?"
"No, that will be all. Dorthy, you may go."
"Of course, Princess Bloom," she answered. With another curtsy, the servant ducked out of the room, leaving Bloom with the sleek dress and the breakfast tray. Soon she felt no delight to eat her breakfast, for her sadness of the assassination of her parents.
Their deaths had been terribly gory. They were murdered by a witch who used her magic to sneak into the palace. The witch had killed five royal guards before her parents' bedroom in the West Wing. Once she reached the bedroom, she had choked her mother and stabbed her father at the heart.
Bloom hadn't seen the bodies, but she had seen the bedroom the next day to find the unpleasantness to the palace. Instead of the usual thought of death, she would have thought of anything better had it been her murdered instead of them.
Bloom had managed to eat half of the berries when her door opened again. She was immediately on fire at the intrusion, only to be glad, her deception was still in placed.
But it wasn't the weaklings of the servants, it was her sister! "Daphne!" Bloom barked. "I have not given you permission to enter."
"Then perhaps you should secure your door more often," said Daphne, hissing like a rattlesnake, "There can still be more potential murders, you know."
She said it with a happy smile. Why wouldn't she be? The killer had actually did suicide after the death of the rulers, falling in front of King Oritel and Queen Marion.
Sometimes, Daphne was a fool if she wasn't even concern. Never mind, Daphne was a fool already.
She was an ageless beauty, though. Her sister had fair skin, light-blonde hair, and hazel eyes that glittered when they meet the light. Daphne was convinced that her sister's beauty was a deception, but the stupid girl wouldn't confess even if mirrors would tell the truth.
Daphne was already dressed for the funeral with dull-gray gown like Bloom's. Only one detail had in line that means didn't match the funeral. Her left hand was painted with heart that was scratched with 'You will be missed' inside the heart. Altogether, the "red-head" wanted to puke at the look.
"What do you want?" asked Bloom.
"To see that you won't be embarrassing me by your appearance today," answered Daphne. Reaching forward, she tugged the flesh beneath Bloom's eye.
Then, quick as a viper, Daphne slapped Bloom across the face, sending her stumbling into one of the bedposts. Bloom cried out, the shock causing her to lose control of her deception.
"Ah, there's my ugly duckling," Daphne cooed. "I suggest that your appearance shouldn't embarrass your reputation already. As you, ugly duckling, you will speak for me today. I will become queen, and you shall obey me."
Turning away, Bloom scrambled to reinstate her illusion. To hide her disfigurements and pretend that she was beautiful, too.
Releasing Bloom's chin, Daphne stepped back. "Put on your mourning dress, little sister, she said, once again wearing her pretty smile. "We have a very big day ahead of us."
Bloom looked at the dull gown on her mattress. She did have a very big day ahead of her.
