Summary: The huntsman spared Snow White, so the wicked queen sent another, her most loyal.
The wicked queen glared at the bloodied bag clutched tightly in her hands, the still-warm heart of a wild boar nestled within.
As she scrutinized the gruesome prize, a tidal wave of anger surged through her; the huntsman had betrayed her, defying her orders and undermining her authority.
He would pay dearly for this insolence, but before she could exact her vengeance, she needed to rid herself of a more pressing issue—the child. Her stepdaughter had to be eliminated, yet she couldn't entrust the task to anyone. No, she required an accomplice she could depend upon.
"Henry," she called, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade.
A lanky young man sprang into action; his movements hurried as he knelt before her, eyes wide with a mix of eagerness and concern.
"Your grace," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
She studied him closely, taking in the unkempt mop of hair that framed his face, the pallor of his ashen skin, and the depth of his dark brown eyes that seemed to hold the weight of his unspoken fears. His ill-fitting and clunky armor appeared to consume him, making him look smaller and more vulnerable.
"Henry, the princess must die," she declared, her words cold and calculated.
He rose abruptly, disbelief washing over his features like a sudden storm. "Snow White?!" he gasped, stepping closer, desperation etched on his face.
"Yes," she confirmed with a chilling calmness.
"But—she adores you!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling. "She would—she would die for you if you asked her to."
"And I'm sending you to tell her," she commanded, her eyes narrowing as she held his gaze, unyielding and severe.
He faltered, his expression crumbling into sorrow, tears welling in his eyes as he knelt again, the weight of his loyalty pressing heavily upon him.
"As you wish, your grace," he replied, his voice breaking under anguish.
The queen stood before her looking glass and asked if sending Henry was the right choice.
'He is my most loyal subject.' The queen pointed out.
'Yes, he is.' The looking glass agreed.
'Then what's the issue?'
'He has a fondness for her.'
'Because she was nice to him when they were children?' She scoffed. 'Give me a break.'
'A little kindness can go a long way.'
'His fondness for me is greater.'
'Yes, it is, but his for her can grow.'
Henry embarked on a journey to locate Princess Snow White, with the queen's ominous words echoing in his mind: she claimed the princess was hidden deep within the enchanted forest. He struggled to fathom the queen's intentions as he traveled through the dense trees and swirling mists.
Why did she want to harm a girl who had always adored her?
Their bond had seemed almost maternal, as if the queen had given birth to the girl.
After spending seven long years fighting bravely in the king's war, Henry felt anxiety and uncertainty about what had transpired during his absence.
The world he had known had changed, and so, perhaps, had the princess. He wondered what kind of person she might have become. She may no longer be the sweet, innocent girl he had cherished in his memories. The thought of her transformation filled him with dread and determination as he pressed onward into the forest's heart.
Snow White sat gracefully in the open ebony window frame, feeling the crisp winter breeze gently brush against her skin. The air was filled with the scent of the delicious meal she had spent hours preparing for the dwarves, who had worked hard in the mines all day. With its rustic charm and cozy warmth, the cottage had grown quite hot from the cooking. She had made a hearty lamb stew, rich with various vegetables, accompanied by freshly baked bread and a vibrant kale salad topped with pomegranate seeds. For dessert, she had prepared a delightful marzipan cake that looked beautiful and inviting.
As she nestled into the window frame, memories flooded her mind. She thought of her father and the stories he had shared with her, stories that had shaped her understanding of love and family.
He once told her that her mother had spent her days gazing out of an ebony window frame much like this one, wishing and dreaming of the day her daughter would be born. The thought brought a soft smile to Snow White's lips, even as she felt a pang of longing.
Now, sitting in a similar window nearly 22 years later, Snow White made a wish as she gazed at the frosty landscape. But unlike her mother, she did not yearn for a child.
Instead, Snow White craved something deeper—genuine and heartfelt affection. She longed for a connection that
transcended mere obligation or superficial impressions.
Although she was regarded as beautiful and was, after all, a princess, those qualities were not the source of her desire. She understood that the dwarves cared about her, but their concern often stemmed from pity regarding her circumstances rather than true companionship. In their eyes, she was a damsel in distress, and while that brought some comfort, it did not fill the void she felt inside.
She truly wanted to be around someone who cherished her for who she was, someone who found joy in her company, laughter in her words, and comfort in their shared moments. A faithful companion with whom she could explore the wonders of life.
As these thoughts swirled in her mind, she couldn't help but consider her mother's own desires during those long winters.
Did her mother also yearn for a faithful companion, or was her wish solely focused on Snow White's arrival?
Then, her thoughts shifted to her stepmother, the queen, a figure shrouded in mystery and ambition.
What did she wish for?
What drove her motives and desires?
Snow White pondered the complexity of her stepmother's
heart, wondering if beneath the queen's cold exterior lay a longing mirrored her own.