A/N: I was unsatisfied with the world I had created for this story so I'm going back and changing it. I think the previous setting had no depth to it and Snow White was kidnapped so many times within a week. Sorry if you were waiting eagerly for the new chapter, but I really want to rewrite this in a way that satisfies me. Hopefully, you will appreciate these changes. I apologize for the inconvenience of my readers.


Chapter One: A Handsome Marriage Proposal

You have no right to judge me. I see you looking at me now. You see the violence of Terre De Miroir in me and you condemn me for it. But you have no right. I can try to explain it to you, but you will never understand. Until you have lived my life second for second, witnessed every spectacle that I have and felt every stranger's sidelong glance, you have no idea how I became the woman that I am. You have no right to judge me.

I will try to explain my upbringing before I begin my story. You will never understand fully. You will call me violent, proud, stubborn, cruel, ambitious, vengeful, and hateful. But you must understand, all those adjectives also describe my country.

Terre De Miroir was an island raised in violence.

Amongst the five Fairy's Islands, we are the entrepreneurs in technology. Your cellphones? Your laptops? You television? All made in Terre De Miroir. But while we advanced technologically, our taste for cruelty and violence simultaneously advanced.

The first two thousand years of Terre De Miroir's history is stained with the violence of the five tribes (these five tribes would later become the main cities of Terre De Miroir—Pensee, Verite, Renvoy, Neiger, and Dunor). It was not until the seafarers of Maricean landed on the coast owned by the Dunor tribe in the year 1609. Maricean brought boats and technology to Terre De Miroir, and soon, Terre De Miroir entered into the trading business. But what did a northern, desolate island like Terre De Miroir have to offer the other four islands? Technology, we discovered. We could invent things. And so, the race amongst the five tribes for technological superiority began.

Cities were built, weapons created, and engines invented in Terre De Miroir. During the next three thousand years, the five tribes fought viciously to protect their progress and knowledge. Wars broke out between cities, traitors and enemies were punished with public cruelty—prisoners were made to kill each other and fight ravenous carrion birds; the southeastern tribe of Renvoy developed the concept of Danfeu, dancing to death in iron shoes. This went on for centuries, destroying the economy of Terre De Miroir several times. We actually lost control of the technological monopoly for some time. Eventually, what had begun as simple execution turned to games of cruelty. And by that time, Terre De Miroir's taste for violence and blood became unquenchable.

Eventually, the constant wars drove the five tribes bankrupt. Weapons are expensive, you know. People in the same tribe were forced steal, cheat, and lie simply to each. Muggings happened in broad daylight. Prostitution was a common practice. In the end, the starving, desperate people would fight each other as a spectacle to entertain the elite. By the end of the fifth millennium, the tribes were being devoured from the inside.

In the year 4998, the Warlord of Neiger, Landor White, defeated the other warlords. In a wave of bloodshed and metal, he tore through the country and took the title of "king" as he stood on the corpses of thousands of men. All those technological advances that had been made in each tribe's separate city were, for the first time, united. They no longer needed to spend money on war and, under the leadership of their first king, the people of Terre De Miroir were able to drag themselves out of bankruptcy.

King Landor White, my father, was headstrong, violent, and proud. He took and he took and he took and he never gave. When he became king, he took the intellectuals and locked them away until, under threat of Dansfeu, they created new technology. He took the Spectacles, made then state-hosted events, and charged money for attendance. And he took the most beautiful woman in all the land for his wife.

That "most beautiful woman in all the land" was my mother, Rose. She was taken from her poverty-stricken parents at the age of twelve because she was beautiful and she was placed on a throne because she was beautiful and she was draped in jewels because she was beautiful. Everything that she was, she had because she was beautiful. She was convinced of that. She believed it with all her heart. Do you understand? (This is an important part of how I was raised.)

My parents were married for five years without children before the problem arose. My father wanted a son to carry on his reign. My mother wanted no children (she was frightened that pregnancy would mar her beauty). The arguments filled the halls of the palace until my father threatened to have her dance in red-hot iron shoes if she didn't bear him a son.

In order to protect her position, my mother became pregnant with me. Well, you can imagine my father's disappointment at my gender. He wanted my mother to try again and she didn't want to. Three months later, my father, King Landor White of Terre De Miroir, was found dead, poisoned at the hands of his mistress. I wasn't even a year old.

There are three things you need to know about my upbringing.

Firstly, I was raised by a strong, single queen. Despite the words of her advisors, my mother refused to marry again. She ruled Terre De Miroir with a fist of steel and she ruled me in a similar way. There are two ways that children can come out when their parents are merciless. I could have been a timid, kind girl who strove to be the opposite of my mother or I could have been a strong, rebellious girl who fought every command my mother ever gave me. As you can imagine, I turned out the latter.

Secondly, I was raised to believe in beauty above all else. My mother was given her status, her wealth, her power due to her beauty. The Mirror of Truth, a gift from the Fairy, which was supposed to be used to rule the country wisely, she used to confirm that she was the most beautiful woman in all the land. She believed that beauty could get her anywhere, and she passed this belief down to me.

Thirdly, I was raised by a woman who hated me. When I was six, she took me to a hedgewitch's home in downtown Pensee (the capital city of Terre De Miroir). My mother told me that a woman's only weapon is poison. She had the hedgewitch show me how a deadly poison, known as Lace, worked on lab rats. Then, as the rat regurgitated the insides of its own stomach, gave one last shuddering breath, and died, my mother told me that if I ever disobeyed her, I would suffer the same fate as that rat.

It is little wonder that my personality ended up the wreck that it is.

Alright, so now that we have the background information out of the way, where should I begin my story? I suppose the only way that I could start is with the marriage proposal. Though unrest had been brewing for quite some time, the marriage proposal really was the catalyst.

I was twenty-years-old when a prince decided I was marriageable. What prince? Prince Richard the Charming of Verriere, actually—you know him well, don't you, Cinderblock?

Anyway, my marriage to Prince Charming of Verriere would put my mother's claim to the throne in question, so, as you can guess, my mother was not happy about that.

"He's not attracted to women," said my mother.

She paced back and forth across the North Chamber of the Black Root Palace, the hem of her dark purple dress flapped about her ankles as she walked.

The palace had been built by the noble Red family long before King Landor White came to Pensee. It was made of pale granite with black-metal spires reaching towards the sky. The palace was built in the Old Style, with stain-glass windows and carved arches, which stood out boldly against the abstract designs of the new buildings in Pensee. The interior of the palace had been brought to modern times, decorated with expensive leather couches, electric fireplaces, wall-sized televisions, and actual air conditioning. The only room that had been kept in the traditional Old Style was the North Chamber, which was home to the Fairy's Mirror.

As you know, when the Fairy created these five islands to each island the Fairy gave a gift. To Terre De Miroir, the Fairy gave the Mirror of Truth. Even now, I remember the mirror perfectly—a huge, circular mirror framed in black metal, which crisscrossed around the polished glass. In theory, if you ask the Mirror a question, it will respond with the truth. But I happened to know that the Mirror is very specific. Sometimes, the Mirror won't answer the questioned asked of it and sometimes it will answer questions asked in its presence but not directed to it.

My mother, Queen Rose White, paced in front of the Mirror, fuming. She was dressed for the occasion in a dark purple gown that clung to her rail-thin hips. My mother was the perfect image of an aging beauty. She still possessed the soft, attractive features of her youth, but the years had caused faint wrinkles to appear. My mother always pretended not to notice. She held her head high and her smooth, black hair hung down to her waist in ringlets. A golden crown rested on her head proclaiming her the supreme ruler of Terre De Miroir.

"How can he propose to my daughter?" asked Mother. "My daughter is female. She does not have a penis."

My mouth twitch into a smile at the sound of my mother using such a crude word.

"Prince Richard cannot provide an heir to his kingdom if he marries a man," said Antyom, always the voice of reason.

Beside the Mirror stood Antyom, my mother's hired sorcerer. When I was ten, my mother brought Antyom, with his dark skin and tattooed head, from Nuireve. I had never seen a southern man before, let alone a sorcerer. Antyom, with his curses and spells, had both fascinated and frightened me. A week after his arrival, Antyom punished an ambassador from Maricean, who had spoken out against the Festival of Skeletons.

Oh, but you don't know what the Festival of Skeletons is, do you? The festival first began four hundred years ago in Pensee, but now people from all the cities come to watch. Four times a year, with the change of seasons, the unemployed and homeless are gathered from one of the cities and brought to Pensee. After begin starved for a week, the homeless will be thrown into a stadium where they are expected will tear and bite each other until a victor emerges—this festival is the only time that cannibalism is legal in Terre De Miroir. The ambassador called the festival "an abomination created from the cruelty of the human mind". Antyom chained the ambassador by the ankles to the ceiling and hung him over a pit of starving festival participants. They ate every part of him that they could reach.

Oh yes, I learned to fear Antyom.

"Curse him," said Mother, rounding on Antyom, her blue eyes flashing with icy rage. "Curse Prince Charming so that he may not use my daughter for such an abominable purpose."

"Abominable purpose?" I asked, speaking for the first time since hearing about my marriage proposal.

I stood in the far end of the room, as close to the exit as I could, leaning against the black stone wall. My arms were folded over my chest (my superb 36D chest) and my legs casually crossed. I wore a black skirt under a red blouse—simple, but it looked fabulous on me, who my mother knew to be the most beautiful woman in the world since the day I turned eighteen.

"He only wants to marry you for your gender," cried Mother.

"And my status," I said. "I am the next ruler of Terre De Miroir."

That comment rewarded me with my mother's livid reaction. Her cheeks and forehead blotched red and she quickly turned away from me so that I would not see her face at its least attractive moment. When she turned back to me, her skin had returned to its flawless, pale color. She smiled at me, though I could see the burning hatred behind her mask.

"I don't want you to enter into a loveless marriage," said Mother.

"Is he handsome?" I asked.

It was not mother who responded, but the Mirror. A deep, musical voice flooded the room. I felt my very bones shudder with the sheer power that rang through the North Chamber. The Mirror, which spoke with only heavy truth, said, "Yes."

"Will I find a more handsome husband?" I asked.

"No."

I turned to my mother and gave her a smug smile. "I accept the proposal."

"Snow White!" cried Mother.

"I want the most handsome man in all the land," I said, tossing my mane of black hair over my shoulder. "Only he can match me, the most beautiful woman in all the world. I will marry him and I will accept the title of Queen."

Mother gritted her teeth. "Snow White."

"The marriage, Mother, will form an alliance between Verriere and Terre De Miroir. I will have two children. The eldest will inherit the throne of Verriere and the youngest will rule Terre De Miroir. The two countries will be tied by blood long after you and I are dead."

"Dead," snapped Mother, her voice twanging with distaste on the word.

"Not even the sorcerer can provide you with immortality, Mother," I said.

Antyom's face showed no change at his mention. According to the servants, my mother had asked him about immortality several times and each time Antyom had responded in the same manner—immortality is impossible for all but the Fairy.

"You will grow old, Mother," I said. "Your hair will turn gray and your face will wrinkle. You will die and your bones will turn to dust. The Fairy decreed it so."

"The Fairy decreed nothing," snapped Mother. "We only think the Fairy decreed it so. Those without ambition accept death blindly."

"Oh?" A smirk flitted across my face. "With a mentality like that, Mother, you should try your hand in the Spectacles. I'm sure the other participants would fall to their needs before you."

"Snow White. I am losing my patience," said Mother.

The cellphone in my pocket vibrated and, after typing in the password, I read the message that I had received.

I pushed off from the wall and took a step towards my mother. "I want to go through with the marriage proposal. I want to secure Terre De Miroir's alliances. I want to tie us to a country that has access to gold and silver. I want to save Terre De Miroir from any possibility of debt. I can see no reason not to go through with this marriage proposal to the handsome Prince Charming. I want what's best for my country—what do you want, Mother?"

The next few words took all of her effort and all of her acting skills to say: "I want you to be happy, Snow."

I beamed at her. I was her spitting image. The same pitch-black hair, the same snow-fair skin, the same red lips, the same round face, the same height that caused us to tower over many men, the same skinny hips that questioned our child-bearing abilities, and the same confident air that drew men's eyes to us. The only things I had inherited from my father, or so the nameless maids told me, were my black eyes.

"Mother," I said. "It's nice to see you so concerned of my well-being. But, you know, there's a reason you're a queen instead of an actress."

Queen Rose White of Terre De Miroir pulled herself up to her full height and said, with all the feeling she could muster, "Being an actress is part of being a queen. The fact that you do not understand this shows that you do not understand what it means to be a monarch, and you are not ready to decide who you are going to marry."

I kept the smug grin plastered across my face. "You really feel threatened by me, don't you?"

Mother was bustling with rage, while I wore that hateful smile until my cheeks hurt.

"Get out," said Mother. Her voice was a venomous hiss. "Get out now."

"No need to tell me." I said, holding up the cellphone. "My car is waiting. I have a Spectacle to attend."

I walked towards the door, my skirt brushing against my thighs as I moved. I reached the door and had it partially open before I turned back and said, "Before I go—Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?"

The Mirror spoke as it had spoken for these past two years. In the voice that knew all, the Mirror said, "Snow White."

My mother was livid. The corners of her mouth and her forehead were streaked with frown lines. Her hands trembled and her lips pouted stubbornly. Antyom stood beside the mirror in silence, though irritation burned behind his coal black eyes.

I beamed at the two of them, curtsied politely, and then closed the door firmly behind me.