Loose Strands Unravel

Is it possible that luck would have me suffer and nothing else? Last night, I dressed with the vigor of a young maiden racing to see her love. My hair coiffed to perfection. Dark lines drawn around my eyes to enhance their shape. The dye of currant berries painted on my lips. One of my finer gowns hung on my shoulders as my body filled the cut in a precise manner.

All that preparation for Leopold to steal away my only source of comfort and leave me to dine with Snow. The little princess only picked at her food and spoke of trivial events throughout her day. All of it hardly worth the breath she wasted in speaking. The men dined in their quarters together while I had to endure an insipid recollection of Snow picking flowers with her mother as a child. I shined with as much motherly affection as anyone could and all the while, picturing her demise.

Torn apart by savage beasts. Drowning in the Great Lake by sirens pulling her down to the depths; the look on Leopold's face for that one was quite succulent. I do have a single favorite though, and it remains the highlight of all.

Never rescuing her from that horse. I just let it run on and on; maybe, she falls, maybe not. Just so our paths had never crossed.

But that evening is over, and the next approaches. I oversaw the banquet's seating and minor preparations. Snow's dress has been approved; with gritted teeth, I styled her hair myself. She smiled and fawned before running off to greet the royals from other kingdoms. I slipped away to prepare myself. I enjoy the time alone; the bliss of being separated from all of them. Closing my eyes, I sink away to somewhere far off and rest my head against the vanity.

"My dear, it's almost time." Of course, Enid would creep up on me. "I have your gown ready."

My mind tries to count the number of times that she has repeated the same lines to me. 'I have your gown', 'we must prepare', 'your bath is ready', 'the king wishes to see you,' etc. How terrifying it is to realize that these are what form the entirety of spoken word during my days.

Her roughened touch lands on my bare shoulder. "Come now, your majesty. The king awaits."

"Why bother attending, Enid?" A glimmer of the candles' flames create an ethereal and heartbreaking ambiance in the room. "Every year is the same. Every day is the same. The conversation never strays from the same subjects. There is no life here. Maybe my absence will make Leopold see that."

Her pulse trembles through her wizened fingers. Such a delicate creature but she works better than any of the other maids; all of them were scores younger. Yet, there was always something missing. They couldn't see the gauntness of my soul behind the pretty mask. Not like Enid.

"What do you want, girl?" I stare at her tiny face in the dimmed light.

"What?"

"I said what do you want." My mind races with a thousand suggestions but none of it speaks aloud. "There must be something, your majesty. A family? Children? More-"

"I want freedom." It escapes so suddenly that I have to clarify what I mean before I seem utterly crazy. "A life of my own. That is all I want."

A laugh comes from that woman and in that second, I know that there is more to her than I had counted on. "If you want such things, then you have to take them, and the only way to take them is through power."

"Enid." I stand tall to her minute built and squarely stare down at her. "I can't. I am only the queen. Leopold is king."

"But he won't be forever. You are much younger, my dear, and stronger." The final word is spoken so low that I strain to her. "You will outlast him."

I know what she is saying. In the first few years of marriage, I had savored this conclusion. Leopold would die and I would be left a widow. However, I hadn't counted on the years being so long and time becoming heavier on my soul. Eventually, I realized that even if the man did die so soon, my desire for such freedom may not have survived.

"It will be too late by then. My life will be half over and it is his daughter and her husband that will ascend the throne."

"Unless," Her step scratches against the stone floor as she tiptoes closer. "He dies now. In an unfortunate accident."

Instantly, I seize her by thin shoulders and force her to the bed's edge. "You put both of us in danger by saying such things."

"I am only saying what you don't dare to, my dear." All the sweetness that I had witnessed in her features vanishes into a blank void and only a rasped sound remains. "I dress you every day in this room. I treat you as though you were my daughter. I have to listen to your weeping in the evenings and the sadness that you carry through those doors.

"You have all the comforts of a queen but what is it worth in the end, dear? It can't get you love or happiness. Leopold doesn't love you and I don't you see you rushing to fall into his arms. You are wasting away for nothing. Might as well leave the kingdom and damn everything else."

I stare at her in total awe. Me, the queen in complete royal presence and her, a scullery maid in a crumpled skirt. Somehow though she is the one with more command and I am the submissive subject. Why hadn't my mother spoken so to me? Where was her shock and ardor for me to live? Where was her heart? I know that the comprehension of her ideas is not a massive step to take; that is not why I hold back. It is far beyond fear or guilt or even anger.

It is terror.

The torture that awaits me if I leave. To cope with the failure of not putting a stopper to the happiness of Snow White and Leopold is not within me. I must be the one that is driven out as they walk into the bliss of happily ever after? Inwardly, I cringe at the years of agony I would endure of self-flagellation over my failure. I cannot let this go so easily.

"There are things that I cannot let go. I can't leave. I will not leave." The death in my voice doesn't seem to affect her. Her spritely spirit only grows.

"All the more reason, my dear, to consider other options." Something slides over my shoulder and everything in my world has come to a halt. "You walk a dangerous path if you think that the king doesn't pay attention to your majesty."

The jinn's silk wrap. The silvery blue fabric chills my shoulders. I had kept it under my pillow while knowing that Enid might find it but I had not imagined she would know its origins. I pull it from her hand and try to restore some sense of tenderness that I had for it. "Even if I left- for any cause, I have to finish something first. This and the genie are nothing to me. You have revealed nothing, Enid."

As I say these words, every consonant cuts deeper into my soul. How despicable all of it is but I have to do this; I must be like this. I have always had to, I find that revelation is not so alien to me and has been inside the depths of my mind. Yes, I have known it. I should have heeded it too. The only excuse that could be offered is that passion overruled reason. Yet, I see no reason in this case that my heart should be judged to be anything less than needing and wanting of more than what was offered to me. If my life, as a human, as a woman, were fulfilled and entirely witnessed as content than my straying heart should be ripped from my chest and fed to monsters of glory and lore. However, what is here in this castle that has held my heart to it?

Nothing.

I was alone. In company, heart, and soul, and even if the genie left on voyage tomorrow's tide; I would feel less lonely than I have in my entire existence. Just by knowing that the man who has awaken me is alive and vital in this world with or without me.

Enid begins to take the wrap back from me, despite my tightened grip. "Then he is here for your utilization."

Pain grips me in hysteria and I find the coldness of my soul released. "No, he will not do. If the king were to fall, it would require an expert hand. Not a bumbling slave."

"You have magic, my dear." She shrinks back when she says this. Her grip stays strong on the fabric but her eyes shine wild with fear. "You could enchant him. Make him into whatever you need, or use your spells against the king-"

The pulsing vein intensifies in its flow. I can see it practically pulsating in her neck. She knows what I am and now I am aware of that fact. Enid never mentioned such things before and I have to admit that she has been very clever to have stayed quiet. I am not the delicate queen that I play for Leopold and everyone else. Leopold is no more than a tinkering buzzing insect that I could crush with a swipe of my hand if I so wished it. If Enid knows about my powers than she is very aware of what I am capable of.

"You dare to tell me how to be rid of the king?" I rip the cloth out of her hand and she only jumps at my incensed action as she sits back onto the bed. "I am not the virtuous queen that the court laughs at nor the doting stepmother. You may have seen me weep in my private chambers and display a sullen disposition over my predicament but do not be fooled, Enid. I am commanded by no one. Least of all, a chambermaid.

"You think the little spell books you glanced through or the small acts I've performed are major things and that is quite laughable. I can hold back the Dark One and so much more. Your life could cease with a turn of my skirt. You are not allowed to tell me how to dispose of anyone!"

I point to the dress she laid out so carefully in the wardrobe. A winter blue. Satin layers and sewn jewels. Garb fit only for a queen. I point to the dress and by that action, my dress winds itself around me. The dressing robe fades away. Diamonds assort themselves in quick variations, placing rings, bracelets, and earrings. My hair springs to life and twirls into an adornment fixed for a crown. I spin in front of the mirror and a horrified Enid.

I do look quite well tonight.

"As you can see, I don't need you. I never needed you. I need no one." She sits on the bed in a huddled posture and I cruelly go on as I do believe she deserves it. "I accepted you into my service because you were convenient."

I barely catch the murmur of wispy voice. "I only wished to aid your majesty."

It should be frightening to me that yesterday she was the mother I always yearned for and now, she is absolutely nothing to me. More trash to be disposed of. It may not show but I yearn for my soul more than anything else. I would give anything for my heart to be whole again.

"Your services are no longer required." Finally, her head lifts and I see her expression. Hurt and startled. Grimly, it does give me small satisfaction. "Leave the kingdom and never return. Tell anyone of these conversation or any others within these walls and I will destroy all you hold dear, all you love."

Her shaky limbs and horrid sense of gravity conspire against her as she stands. The old instinct of rushing to help her has abandoned me. She is now without a daughter or a friend in me.

"You are simply letting me go, my dear?" Her hooded cap flops off with her removal. "After all that has been done and said, your majesty?"

My painted visage is wicked in its vulgar stare and features, I am all too aware; so I use it to my advantage. "You are of no further use, Enid. Be gone before I remember how much of a liability you have become."

For a moment, I wonder if she is going to beg to stay. Plead with me and apologize for her snooping. Give me a hundred reasons for why I should keep her. But thankfully, she remains for only a second more before shuffling off through the doors. I watch the heavy oak barriers close off sight of her departure. If I have any regret about Enid, it is that I couldn't have kept her longer. I couldn't have had a mother for longer.

This instance feels so heavy, laden with a sense of grief, anger, and confusion. I did not lie when I said that I am not as I appear. I lie to everyone and everything. I even lie to myself during the better part of my days. In many ways, I wish I were the kind and naïve person that I am believed to be. How easy it would be to waste the days without a protest about my position or my life. Like Snow White and her father. Untouched and unmiserable.

But I am not. I quiver at the reflection facing me in the mirror. The woman I am with her flawless makeup that only serves to hide the true ugliness that is not shown on the outside; only hidden within. I had started out as a fair beauty with purity and goodness in her soul. Now I am this. The queen and the sorceress; everything that I had endeavored to not become.

Outside of the kingdom, a figure traipses through the tangled forest. An old hag of disproportionate figure that only comes with age. Her limbs, slow and weak. Eyesight seemingly unsteady. She stoops underneath a branch and lays down her heavy burden of a body onto a moss sloughed log.

Any passing would not notice anything amiss. To them, a grandmother resting from a hard day's labor. No more and no less.

To those who were to stay a second longer; evil in its other form.

The tattered shawl is thrown aside. Cap, skirt, and top all piled off to be forgotten on the forest floor. A tornado of maddening red fog covers the bared figure. No other sound is made any other living thing until the stream of mist retreats. Then there stands the true personage that had made of use of the elderly disguise. Any villager would not need to question who stands against the log; as children, they were warned again and again. As adults, they openly fear and despise the creature that lounges about in giggling strides while the moon shines down on him. His miniscule stature and lizard-like features strike anyone ill and are legendary.

He is no stranger to anything in this world. Not to the lit kingdom he glares and grins devilishly at or to the young queen that he had just deceived through disguise. Despite the fact that she has been his student for the past decade, she still remains disappointing. The sorcerer doesn't know where he went wrong with her and he can't comprehend how she progresses so much under his tutelage; only to regress so far from a single encounter with a genie. Then the queen delivered the final blow to his pride; she let him go, instead of bringing about his death. She let a loose strand hang and now he has decided that she is to pay for it.

Because Rumpelstiltskin can't have her so weak and soft. Not when he needs her to be the complete opposite. Oh no, his long fangs glimmer in his smile as he mentally critiques the perfect lesson for his student. Something for her to learn from and for him to benefit from; she will break her own heart.