It wasn't often that James did this, but he couldn't help himself.
He stopped his horse and took one last look around to see if anyone was following.
They weren't. They never were. He was always extremely careful when he came. He never went the same route twice, and always doubled back a few times to throw anyone following off.
It had been so long since he had seen her. It gnawed on his conscience that he had to keep her existence a secret from everyone. He shouldn't have to. She deserved better than that.
After a few minutes, the cottage came into view. He smiled when he saw the flowers she had planted since he'd been there last. She had always loved flowers, and this place was covered with them.
He got off his horse and tied it to the fence. Opening the gate, he walked down the cobblestone path until he came to the front door.
At his knock, the door opened. "Sweetheart?" a woman said in surprise.
"It's me, Mother," he said, unable to think of anything better to say.
"Oh my," she said, running into his arms. "What are you doing here? You know it isn't safe for you to come here. What are you going to do if King George finds out?"
"He's not going to find out," he said as he kissed her cheek. "I was careful. Besides, you know he can't do anything anyway."
Her face darkened for a moment, but she pressed the thought away. "Come in, sweetheart."
He wasn't surprised in the least to see more flowers in vases and jars on nearly every surface.
"How have you been, Mother?"
"It's been lonely, but now that you are here I'm better already."
"I'm sorry I can't come more," he said guiltily.
"Nonsense, son. I know you come when you can. I don't expect any more than that."
"Sometimes I wish things were different. Maybe if I hadn't accepted. . ."
Ruth remained silent. She hadn't wanted her son to go with King George. Yes, he would have security and power, but she knew he wouldn't be happy. Maybe it was selfishness, too. Maybe she just hadn't wanted to be alone. Maybe happiness would come in time. After all, he didn't have to marry Princess Abigail anymore. Her son was handsome and well respected; it wouldn't be too long before he fell in love with someone who loved him in return.
"What if it was the better option?" she asked.
James was surprised to hear that. He knew his mother had been against his decision. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."
"Son, you are free to do whatever you want now. You don't have to worry about where your next meal is coming from. People respect you now—"
"I never wanted that, Mother. I should have stayed. I should have stayed with you. I've failed you as a son," he said in despair. "You are here, all alone, all the time. Even if I were to get married and have children, you would never know them. They would never know their grandmother who made so many sacrifices for me." His throat tightened, but he forced himself to remain strong. "I should have never left you."
Ruth shook her head and took his hands. "David, I am glad you went. I'm alright," her voice broke. "Really, I'm alright. And it would make me so happy to know that you are happy too."
James smiled. "It's nice to be called by my own name."
"You don't look like a James," she said.
"Did you name him that, or did George?"
Her face grew sad, and David regretted asking her. He hadn't meant to hurt her with the question.
"No, I didn't name him. He was taken away two days after you both were born. I didn't have the heart to name him, knowing that he would be taken away. Sometimes I wish I had."
"You had an impossible choice to make," he said gently. In truth, though, he never did understand how she could have given his twin brother away. What was the farm worth when compared to a child? He didn't think he would ever fully understand. But now wasn't the time to think about that. He had no idea what his mother may have been going through at the time, and the last thing she needed right now was him heaping more guilt on her conscience.
She looked away. "Are you hungry?"
He smiled. "Starving."
"Oh son, you never change." She walked to the stove and inspected the chicken pie. "It should be ready soon."
Soon, they were both seated at the table, eating and talking. David didn't remember the last time he had has such a casual conversation. He missed moments like these where he didn't have to pretend to be someone else. It was nice to be David, the commoner.
"And you should have seen them, they were acting like two girls fighting over a new toy," he related the story about Drizella and Anastasia.
Ruth covered her face with her napkin as she laughed. "Oh son, I knew you would have all the women lining up," she said, breathless.
"Well so far, there haven't been any that I'd ever consider."
"You always have been a picky one, haven't you?" she teased.
He stayed as long as he could risk being away, and during that time they caught up on the past few months.
He told her about Snow, and how difficult it was to pretend that he had childhood memories of her. He told her about how much she cared about being a good leader, and how for the first time in nearly fourteen years, things might get better.
His mother cried when he left, making his heart heavy with sadness. She assured him, however, that she would be fine as long as he was happy.
ooOoo
Snow barely remembered her parents. She had only been three when they had been murdered, so she only had a few memories of them.
She remembered riding in the carriage with her parents for a parade, all dressed in white with small white flowers in her hair.
She remembered sitting on her father's knee while he bounced her up and down.
She even remembered her mother when she was very sick. Looking back, she realized it must have been when Cora attempted to kill her the first time.
Other than that, though, she didn't know much about how they would have ruled.
"My lady," Trisha, one of the ladies, interrupted her thoughts. She was practically dragging an older maid by the arm. "I found this woman trying to steal your things."
Snow stood. The woman looked frightened, and was as pale as a sheet.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" she asked.
"I'm sorry your majesty, I wasn't trying to steal anything."
"I saw her with my own eyes," Trisha hissed. "She should be flogged for this."
"Thank you, Trisha, I will handle this from here."
Affronted at being dismissed, Trisha took a quick curtsy before leaving.
"Go on," Snow said gently.
"I was cleaning your vanity, and I saw a tiara. I recognized it. . ." she said, without looking at Snow, "from many years ago. It belonged to your mother, the queen. Anyway, I grew very sad at the memory and picked it up. Before I knew it, I had tried it on. I know I shouldn't have. Who am I to try on such royal things? Well, I finished my duties, but I had quite forgotten that I was still wearing it. . . and I left with it still on."
Snow smiled. The woman looked so distraught that she couldn't be angry at her even if she wanted to. "What is your name?"
"Johanna, your majesty," she said with a curtsy.
"You knew my mother well?"
"As well as a servant of my status could know a great sovereign lady."
Snow came forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Johanna, I'm not angry with you. You must have loved my mother, or you wouldn't have noticed the tiara like you had."
Johanna looked like a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders. "Oh your majesty, you are merciful indeed, as your mother was."
Snow gestured to a sofa. "Come sit with me."
The older woman seemed flustered with the idea of sharing a seat with the queen, but she obeyed.
"How long have you been a servant here?"
"For thirty-three years, ma'am."
"Well, you must have known my parents somewhat."
Johanna looked like she wanted to say something, but kept quiet. Finally, she spoke. "I was one of the queen's ladies."
Snow was surprised at that, since most of the ladies in waiting were of noble birth, but she remembered that Anna wasn't.
"How did she come to pick you?"
"Well, your majesty, when your mother first arrived here to the Enchanted Forest, she was. . ." she thought for a moment. "Well, she was unhappy. Her marriage to your father was an arranged one. She performed her wifely duties, but your father knew she was unhappy. She went on daily horse rides, but one day, she didn't come back. Everyone thought she ran away, including your father, but nevertheless, he sent out a search party.
"I found her by a stream. She had fallen off her horse. She was as cold as ice. We brought her back, and although she was a little bit sick, she got better after a few days. She asked who it was who found her, so one of her ladies brought me to her." She smiled in remembrance. "Your mother must have been thankful, because she asked me, as low as I was, to be one of her ladies."
"Did she love my father after that?"
"No," Johanna said.
"When did she start loving him?"
"Well, your majesty, it didn't happen overnight. I suppose after a while she grew to see what a great man he was, and she began to love him."
Snow smiled. This older woman had told her more about her mother than she had known about her for her entire life.
"Thank you, Johanna, for telling me that. I'm sure you have dozens of stories about them."
"That I do, your majesty," she said proudly.
"Then I shall have to find more excuses for you to come and visit me," she said lightly.
ooOoo
The first council meeting was unstructured to say the least.
"We can't afford this estate, Lord Lifton," Snow said again for the third time.
"King Ivan had been planning the building of it for nearly half a year before his untimely death," he countered, annoyed.
"We have no money," Snow stressed. "King Ivan," she said almost mockingly, "saw to that. Now I'm here to pick up the pieces, and I say we don't have the money to be building anything that isn't necessary right now."
"With all due respect, your majesty, King Ivan had been in the position of leading for over a decade, and you were just crowned."
The entire room fell into a stunned silence. Snow's hands balled into fists in her lap as she struggled to hold her tongue. Taking a calming breath, she addressed Lord Lifton.
"Lord Alton has shown you all the reports of the amount of money we had before and after my uncle's reign. I daresay that even with all my uncle's long experience, his leadership abilities were lacking. I'm going to give you the facts. This kingdom is nearly broke. I cannot and will not have what little money we have left be thrown away on something we simply do not need."
"I'm inclined to agree with her majesty," Lord Ray said. Snow was thankful for his presence. "Why should we pay for a building that will remain empty and have no purpose?"
"Because it was Lord Ivan's wish," Lifton said, temper rising. "You don't seem to understand that," he said, thrusting a finger in her direction.
Alton rose from his seat. "Lord Lifton, may I remind you that you addressing the queen?" he asked in a dangerous voice.
Lifton paled at the reprimand, and cast a nervous glance in Snow's direction. He opened his mouth to say something, but remained silent.
Snow stood. "That will be all for today."
Everyone rose in respect as she left the room. Lord Ray caught up to her and addressed her.
"What is it?"
"You were exactly right in refusing to build that estate, your majesty. It would have been a pointless endeavor. Why not put that money to better use?"
"You sound as though you have a suggestion."
"As a matter of fact, I think we would all benefit from a textile factory."
"Would you care to elaborate?"
"Well, it would benefit nearly every class level. Cloth is made of either wool or cotton, so any cotton farmer or shepherd would benefit from that. Factories require a large amount of workers, so the common folk could work and keep food on the table. Then, whatever cloth they make can turn into clothes for tailors and seamstresses to make, and lastly, the wealthy would have something new to buy. Everyone is happy, and the economy will improve."
Snow frowned. "That seemed rehearsed."
"Because it wasn't my first time to say it. My queen, it is my sole desire to better this land. I tried continually to convince the Prince regent Ivan of this idea, but he was more inclined to spend the royal money elsewhere."
"Your idea certainly seems beneficial." She thought for a moment. "However, we will discuss this later at our next council meeting when everyone else is present."
"Of course, your majesty," he bowed.
She watched him leave as she rubbed her temples. She had a horrilbe headache. It made her wonder if she would always get them after the council meetings. Most of the men on her council were her uncle's puppets, and were loyal to him because of what they profited from him.
Lord Alton seemed to be on her side, as did Lord Ray, but the rest of them. . .
Snow wished she could wipe the slate clean and start from scratch with people she trusted, but how could she do that without offending the council members? The last thing she needed was more enemies. But she couldn't keep men on her council that she didn't trust. . .
What would her father have done? Snow shook her head mentally. Her father would have never had to deal with this, because he would have never allowed the kingdom to fall.
Snow sighed. She needed to stop thinking about this. When she entered her bedchamber, she saw Trisha straightening the curtains.
"Trisha, could you send word to have my horse prepared? I'm going for a ride."
Trisha hesitated. "Do you think that is wise? It isn't safe out there. . ."
"There's no need to worry, I'm sure half a dozen guards will insist upon escorting me," Snow smiled.
"Of course, your majesty," she said as she left to carry out her bidding.
Less than an hour later, Snow was riding down the beach, carefree. Well, as carefree as anyone in her position could be. After a while, she stopped to give herself, her horse, and the soldiers accompanying her a rest.
After much insisting, she convinced them to let her walk the beach by herself. They still didn't completely obey, as they always stayed close, but not so close she felt smothered.
She realized that she never really had ever been allowed the simple pleasure of being alone. Someone was always there, guarding her, making sure that she didn't wander off, and stopping her any time she went too far. What she wouldn't have given for a little bit of solitude.
Still, this was preferable to Rosenshire.
As she was walking, something caught her eye. Something golden was half buried in the sand. Bending over, she picked it up, revealing it to be a lamp. What was a lamp doing here? There wasn't any village around for miles.
When she rubbed it lightly to get all the sand off, a puff of purple smoke came out of the spout. It formed a pillar taller than her, and when it cleared, a man stood in its place.
With a gasp, she dropped the lamp and stumbled back. Mere seconds later, every guard was upon the man with their swords pointed toward him.
"Stop!" she cried. "Who are you?"
"I am the Genie of Agrabah. I can grant you three wishes, no more, no less. However, magic has its limits—"
"My lady we should dispose of him—"
"No!" Snow ordered. "Let him speak."
The genie continued. "You cannot wish for life, death, or love. You cannot wish for more wishes. Finally, once a wish is spoken, it cannot be undone, no matter the consequences."
"Leave me alone with him."
"My lady—"
"Now."
The men obeyed, but reluctantly.
Snow stared at the man in awe. She had heard of genies, but had never seen one. Nor had she ever seen magic in person.
"What is your name?"
"This servant has no name."
"Well then what shall I call you?"
"Whatever pleases your majesty."
Snow blinked. "How did you know I was queen?"
"A genie knows many things, your majesty. What do you wish for?"
"I. . ." Snow hesitated. "I don't know. This seems too easy."
"Your majesty is wise. All magic comes with a price."
"What price?"
"Sometimes the price is great, and sometimes it is small. A man once asked for a son because he had no heir. He gained a son, but lost his wife in childbirth. Another man asked for the same, and the only price he paid was having twin sons."
"What price would I pay if I asked for the land to be fertile?"
"I cannot see the future, your majesty, so it is difficult to say."
Snow looked him over. "How long have you been a Genie?"
"Five hundred and twenty seven years, your majesty. During those long years, I have served three thousand, nine hundred and eighty-four masters."
"Do you remember them all?"
"Every one, your majesty."
Snow felt pity for him. She thought her own life was hard, but what kind of life was it to serve selfish people who only wanted to use you, only to be tossed aside when you could no longer serve them?
Still, she could ask him to help the land. That wouldn't be selfish, and it would have immediate results. She could ask for more wealth so she could help people in need, or for everyone sick to be healed. Surely there wouldn't be a steep price to pay if she was doing it for the benefit of others.
What would her father have done?
Snow decided she couldn't make that decision now. She needed guidance.
"Why don't you come with me to the palace?" Snow offered.
"Is that your wish?"
"No," Snow smiled. "It is a request, and one that you can refuse if you desire."
"If that is the case, I would be honored to be in your company, your majesty.