Black Forest: Kingdoms Fall (19 page)

"But the feeling was not mutual," Cinderella continued, as Snow White rose from her place by the fire to join them at the table. "I had a discordant
feeling, like I should want to be caught by the prince, only I did not. A vision of our wedding filled my mind's eye, but it was in opposition with my
heart. So, I fled."

"You fled?" Snow White questioned in shock. "But he was a prince."

"Yes," Cinderella nodded.

"Why would you not want to marry a prince?" She looked truly confounded.

"Because he was possessive and arrogant and thought Neptune was the god of the sky," Cinderella returned.

"But..." Snow White only seemed more confused. "Every girl wants to marry a prince."

"Does she?" Cinderella asked, fingers drumming tensely upon the table, as Rapunzel's hand turned to a comforting caress upon her leg. "And why is that?"

"Because," Snow White said at once, before stopping to blink around the room, giving up her search for a real reason with an unconcerned shrug. "Because
that is what is best. My father always did hope to match me to the kindest of princes."

A derisive burst of laughter escaping her, Cinderella clamped down on it when Snow White looked wounded. Remembering they were from two different lands, it
occurred to her a kind prince could well exist in Snow White's. "I do beg your pardon," she uttered. "Perhaps, one day you will meet your prince."

The apology erasing the embarrassed expression from Snow White's face, the girl smiled once more. "How did you get from your kingdom?" she asked. "How did
you meet Rapunzel? How did you end up here?"

"I cannot explain," Cinderella shook her head, "if you cannot understand why I would run from a prince."

"Maybe I can," Snow White replied, and, much to her surprise, Cinderella believed her. Watching her eyes cloud, as if cogs were working so hard inside her
mind they began to smoke, she awaited Snow White's next thought. "You said you had the wrong feeling?" she questioned at last, and Cinderella nodded. "I
never thought to feel," Snow White returned quietly. "I knew my marriage would be set for me. Wanting for anything else, wishing for anything more, was a
senseless undertaking. So, I did not wish."

After all she had seen and known, it was, perhaps, the saddest thing Cinderella had ever heard. For her stepmother and stepsisters had taken what they
could from her, and it had been much, but they could not take her wishes.

"What your mind felt was in discord with your heart?" Snow White went on to ask, and, swallowing thickly, Cinderella nodded once more. "How did you know
your heart was right?"

"I did not know," Cinderella whispered, for she had run mostly on instinct, as prey knew to flee a predator. "Not then. I knew only that I was in trouble.
You cannot throw a shoe at a prince and not invite the wrath of a kingdom."

"You didn't!" Snow White's face split into a wide smile.

"I was desperate," Cinderella said with a strained laugh. "I wanted only to get away. Once it toppled him from his horse, though, I knew I could only stay
and be caught or keep running. My mother, she told me to always trust my heart, and, that night, my heart said to run, and, when I did, my mother's tree,
it opened to me, swallowed me up, and I was pulled from my kingdom. Then, I emerged into Rapunzel's. It was there that my heart said something else, and
then I did know I was right to flee."

Eyes going to Rapunzel's face, Cinderella raised her fingers to the soft skin of a warm cheek, and blue eyes regarded her with something she never thought
to have directed her way. As awed by it as she was the first time she saw it, her heart kicked as Rapunzel pulled the hand from her cheek to press a
lingering kiss against her knuckles.

"Oh!" Snow White's exclamation drew Cinderella's eyes back to her. "Your hearts. That is how you knew. Your hearts... they are fitted."

Glancing to Rapunzel again, Cinderella watched a smile play at her lips. "Yes," Cinderella replied. "They are fitted."

When she returned her gaze to Snow White, though, the girl's smile warped instantly to a frown, and Cinderella felt sickness drop into her chest. "And that
is bothersome to you," she uttered.

"No," Snow White assured her at once. "It is not. It is just..." She glanced toward the window and Cinderella could see the pain set in on her face, as
clear as any expression. "My stepmother, she tried to have me killed."

Remembering the threats of her own stepmother, Cinderella grimaced, for, despite the cruel punishments doled out at her hands, her stepmother had never
actually attempted to take her life.

"The laces," Rapunzel said.

"I am certain," Snow White nodded. "Before that, though, she sent one of the huntsmen from the castle to slay me. It is how I ended up here." Eyes still on
the snow beyond the window, she looked most bothered. "I know that in my head," she went on very softly, as if she was not quite sure of what she was
saying. "But, when I fall into my thoughts, everything goes blank and my heart grows loud. And my heart, it will not believe it."

"What does your heart say?" Rapunzel asked.

"My stepmother has magic," Snow White replied. "She never used it much, but I have seen it. My heart says, if she wanted me dead, I would be dead, and all
that she has done, she has done to protect me."

"Protect you from what?" Again, it was Rapunzel who posed the question, but it was Cinderella who leaned across the table, anxiously awaiting Snow White's
answer.

"From herself," Snow White said at last.

T
he queen was in mourning.

For days, the castle staff had watched the door of her chamber, waiting for it to fly open at any moment with a command or reprimand, but the queen had yet
to emerge.

When Lemi took her food, she refused to eat it. When people called upon her, she refused to see them. She was content, it seemed, to remain in her bed, the
one she had made for times like this, when she did not want to share a bed with the king.

As far from the chaotic toss-about of the dwarves' loft as it could be, the bed was crafted of pure luxury, from the detailed dark cherry wood to the
perfectly-stitched down pillows upon which the queen rested her head. While those in her kingdom passed difficult nights on whatever spot on Earth fate
granted them, Queen Ino always slept well. Until the past few days, when even luxury brought no respite.

When the queen was awake, she watched the unsympathetic weather bear down upon the windows. When she was asleep, she was met with visions of three young
women, Snow White and the two strangers, who were not dismissive, but gracious to her, each mouth adorned with an inviting smile. They would wave to her,
welcoming her in, and the queen would accept their invitation, waiting until each back was turned and slitting three perfect throats, waking only when the
blood reached her knees.

"She has not moved in days," a female voice whispered in response to an inquiry the queen did not hear. She sounded worried, the unidentified servant, and,
a moment later, the knocking that came at the chamber door was rapid with concern.

"Darling?" King Kardon's voice carried through the wood surface, and Queen Ino closed her eyes against its call. "Are you well?"

She knew she must get up. Even as stepmother, they would give her time, but it made no sense for her to mourn beyond the king, not when she had made a
well-known habit of keeping Snow White at a distance, when she had always taken pride in her ability to remain above common human emotions. If she
crumbled, it would reveal much. People might actually come to care for her. Then, who knew what would happen?

Desperate to ward off any impending emotion, Queen Ino tossed back the covers and pushed herself to the edge of the bed. Room spinning before her, she
clenched her eyes tightly shut and reached out for the headboard, her failure to take good care seizing her. Effects finally subsiding to a manageable
degree, the queen rose unsteadily to her feet and went to the mirror in the corner. Lacking powers, the glass reflected only what it saw, and the queen had
never been so pleased with its inability to see beyond what stood before it.

Weight had fallen off of her in drastic measure, her cheeks showing gaunt and sallow in the glass, which only served to highlight the unsightly dark
circles beneath each eye. Hair and lips dry and dull, she could tell even beneath the heavy fabric of her sleeping gown that her normally voluptuous body
bordered on a very unattractive emaciation, like the starving poor who lived in her streets.

For the first time in her life, her appearance befit her value, and it was a terrible thing to see.

Retrieving her robe from the cupboard, the queen pulled it hurriedly on, pushing her shoulders back, trying not to notice the way the bones jutted from her
too-thin frame. Even if she did not look the part at the moment, she was still the queen, and she would behave as such.

Going to the door, Queen Ino yanked it open with the force of one who retained more strength than she felt and stared at King Kardon and the servant with
greater authority than she truly had.

"You are out of bed," the king uttered.

"Obviously," Queen Ino snipped. "And, as far as your question, of course I am well. While the kingdom mourns, I too deserve extra sleep." Ignoring the look
of anger, or hurt, that passed over the king's face, Queen Ino turned to the servant. "Tell Lemi to prepare my favorite dress, and I want breakfast, all
the things I like."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Queen Ino knew the servant believed her back to her right state when she rushed to follow the command at once.

"As long as you are all right," the king uttered lowly, turning from her, and the queen was left in the silent aftermath of her return to form.

Watching him walk toward the grand hall, she slipped through the doorway and took the opposite path, the one that led down the front stairs and into the
entrance hall, making haste to the storage room and leaning against the solid surface of the door as it shut behind her.

With a fearful eye upon the mirror, she wanted to flee, not only the room, but the palace, the entire village, to escape back to the mountains, where she
could live out her days in solitude and relative peace. Everything she thought she could leave there had followed her. There was no escaping it.

Pushing off the door, the queen's steps carried her forward until she stood before the mirror, one weak hand reaching up to pull the cover so it fell to
the floor at her feet.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall," she whispered, voice weak from lack of use. "Who in this land is fairest of all?"

"So much beauty, soft and fair," the mirror returned. "Three whom now I cannot compare. Magic failed, you found two more. Now, My Queen, you are number
four."

Unsurprised by the words, Queen Ino felt nothing.

"They found her?"

"Well, My Dear," the mirror seemed pleased. "You did leave quite a trail."

Hand going to the perfume bottle on the dressing table below the mirror, Queen Ino took gentle hold. Of exquisite detail, the bottle was shaped as a
frolicking fawn, crafted for her by the town glassblower, a gift from Snow White on the last holiday.

"Why can I not have what I want?" The queen looked to the fawn, but did not see it.

"Why must you want what you cannot have?" the mirror questioned in return, and Queen Ino felt tears upon her face, absent most of her adult life, so common
in the last few days. Nothing felt as it had before. Everything felt on the verge of fracture.

She was breaking.

"Why must you want what you cannot have?" the mirror asked again, and Queen Ino looked sharply up. "Why must you want what you cannot..."

"Why must you want what you cannot..."

"Why..."

"Why must you want what you cannot..."

Suddenly, the question was everywhere, echoing around the room, bouncing against walls, both inside and outside the queen's head.

"Stop." Queen Ino clenched her shoulders against the clamor, her hand tighter upon the blown glass.

"Why must you want..."

"Why must you..."

"Why must you want what you cannot have?"

"Stop it!" the queen screamed, feeling herself slipping. Into panic. Into madness.

At her order, the sounds did stop, the room returning at once to its silence, and Queen Ino heard nothing but her own heavy breathing, her hand clutching
tighter to the fawn as she felt attacked by something she could not see.

"Why must you want what you cannot have?" a single voice asked, and Queen Ino looked up to find the face in the mirror was not her own.

Flinging the bottle at the stranger, both fawn and mirror shattered as she whirled in the explosion of glass and dashed from the room.

Rapunzel peered into the foliage, trying to find focus against the growing darkness. Sometimes, when her mother left early, light enough remained for her
to see Cinderella appear from the trees and rush to the tower's base, as if she could not wait to meet again. When night fell first, the forest turned into
a black void, and Rapunzel could see little beyond the window's ledge as she dropped her hair and waited for Cinderella.

Wind whipping at her cheeks, the breeze carried a surprising chill, as if filled with bad omens. Though she had yet to do so, Rapunzel knew the sorceress
could return at any time of night, that she could catch Cinderella at the tower and punish them both. The only rule Rapunzel ever truly had was to allow no
visitors other than her mother. Trapped as she was, there was no need for anyone else, her mother said.

The first tug at her hair relieved the strange feeling of dread, as she knew only Cinderella knew where to find her. At least, Rapunzel was certain of
that, until, eyes closed against the uncomfortable cold, she felt the wrong hand upon hers on the windowsill.

Startling back, Rapunzel was caught by the hook that held her hair as the stranger put his boot on the window's ledge and launched himself inside.