Snow white timeless fair.., p.1
Snow White (Timeless Fairy Tales Book 11), page 1
Snow White
Timeless Fairy Tales Book 11
K. M. Shea
SNOW WHITE
Copyright © 2018 by K. M. Shea
Cover Art by Deranged Doctor Design
Edited by Jeri Larsen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any number whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of quotations embodied in articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historic events is entirely coincidental.
www.kmshea.com
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. Of Love and Farewells
2. Flee
3. Angel, the Apprentice
4. The Seven Warriors
5. Constructs
6. Unusual Herb Magic
7. The Chosen
8. Discoveries and Ideas
9. In Disguise
10. The Four Lords
11. Tea and Marriage
12. A New Kind of Construct
13. An Altered Plan
14. An Apple
15. Poisoned
16. The Culprit
17. Princess Snow White
18. March on Glitzern
19. The Throne Room
20. Queen Faina
21. Angelique
22. A Difference of Heights
Epilogue
Afterword
If you enjoyed the Timeless Fairy Tales, check out Angelique’s story!
Other books by K. M. Shea
About the Author
Chapter 1
Of Love and Farewells
Snow White was born into a world of love and farewells. It was with much love that her mother—taking in her wisps of dark black hair, piercing blue eyes, and creamy white skin—named her Snow White. (Though sometimes Snow White still questioned her naming skills, as she had yet to meet another being named after a weather pattern who was not a mage.) Sadly, it was also with much love that Snow White’s mother left her, dying a few short months after giving birth to her.
It was with great love that Snow White’s father—King Matvey of Mullberg—raised her. Laughter and warmth lived in the palace, and Snow White never doubted her place in his heart.
Which is why it was with great love that Snow White welcomed Lady Faina to the palace as her father’s new wife when she was nine years old.
Lady—now Queen—Faina returned all that love, and together they giggled and laughed…which was the only thing that made life bearable when Snow White’s father left them both, dying in a hunting accident when Snow White was a mere thirteen years old.
Snow White survived, Mullberg survived, only because of Queen Faina, who held Snow White when she cried and would serve as regent until Snow White turned twenty and took the throne herself.
Snow White hoped that day would never come.
If I become queen, I will die the day of my crowning as my heart ceases to function, Snow White thought as she sat in on a meeting with her stepmother and the lords who served on their Cabinet. Unless, maybe, they let me wear a blindfold so I do not see the immense crowd staring at me.
Snow White tucked her chin and did her best to blend in with the bookshelves behind her. Mullberg’s Cabinet was a unique feature on the continent, as no other country had such a council. It was comprised of advisors who each served as the minister of a department, and the lords who served on it were all of a decent sort. But they also had the unfortunate propensity to try to include Snow White in the discussion—something she’d rather avoid at all costs.
“Do we need to be more concerned with Verglas, to our west?” Queen Faina asked the lords. “They’ve deposed their king, after all—though they did crown Prince Toril as their new monarch.”
“It’s about time they got rid of that tyrant,” Lord Dalberg grunted. “Torgen was a madman.”
Snow White’s lips twitched into a brief smile. I have never heard a truer statement. I cannot imagine why his country bore his cruel reign as long as they did.
“After reviewing the reports, Your Majesty, I don’t imagine the new Verglas monarch will have any negative affect on Mullberg,” Lord Kleist said.
The rest of the advisors nodded and voiced their agreement.
Snow White’s chin itched, but as the lords were looking at Queen Faina, the last thing she wanted to do was draw their attention to her position in a padded chair just a bit behind her stepmother.
“Very well,” Queen Faina said. “Then what of our internal defenses?”
The lords briefly talked amongst themselves as they shuffled on to the next topic.
Though Snow White listened to them, she allowed herself the luxury of studying the stuffed bookshelves of her stepmother’s study.
Leather-bound books with gold embossed titles were stacked on every surface. The shelves were so crammed, Snow White doubted even one more tome would fit. The few open spots held things like rolled up maps and stacks of old letters and correspondence.
But it was the books that held the most interest for Snow.
Basic Astronomy, Rotation Based Agriculture, Theory of Magic, An Endeavor in Economics…
Snow White longed to pluck one of the books—any of the books—from the shelves and read, but she shook her head. I can borrow them later. I really should be focused on this meeting.
With a slight sigh, she ripped her eyes from the shelves and returned her attention to the discussion. She self-consciously tidied the stack of papers sitting on her lap—reports she had read in preparation for the meeting.
“Despite the rumors of a pack of trolls in the north, the Veneno Conclave representative who checked into it could find no evidence of the creatures.” Queen Faina set a sheaf of papers down on her desk and raised her gaze to the dozen lords who cluttered up her private study.
Lord Kleist shook his head, making his grizzled white hair flail. “Again we chase our shadow for no reason,” he grumbled. “It’s the work of those seven brats, I tell you!”
Snow White glanced at her stepmother, trying to judge her reaction.
“Perhaps.” The beautiful queen squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed at her temple.
Snow White shifted slightly in her chair, concerned at the sight of her stepmother’s tells for one of her terrible headaches. We should try to send for a mage with healing magic. They should be able to do something.
Lord Sparneck grunted. “Baroke ought to keep his spawn in line. His son, Marzell, is the ring leader of those…hermits. Though they try to paint themselves as heroes and go around calling themselves the Seven Warriors, they dare cry out against our Queen?”
“Really, Your Highness,” Lord Dalberg puffed up his chest. “You ought to have them arrested for their traitorous talk!”
Queen Faina opened her eyes—though her nails turned white as she pressed her fingertips into her temple. “All they do is talk, Lord Dalberg. I’m inclined to ignore them as long as it remains that way. They have taken no action, and though they criticize my regency, at the very least, they are smart enough to leave Snow White out of the matter.”
When Queen Faina glanced at Snow White, she offered her a sincere smile. Though the gesture of affection warmed Snow White, the dark circles under the queen’s eyes concerned her.
Yes. A mage must be sent for.
“Indeed,” Lord Kleist studied Snow White. “If Princess Snow White were to make more public appearances and take up greater responsibilities, perhaps they would be silent.”
At her name, Snow started to hunch her shoulders as dread hit her stomach like an anchor. Oh no. No, no, no. Please don’t be THAT good of a Cabinet Minister, and instead resume not seeing me!
Blithely, Lord Kleist continued, “Marzell was your playmate as a child, was he not, Your Highness?”
A dozen set of eyes swiveled to gaze speculatively at Snow White.
Snow White felt her cheeks heat with a blush as her heart throbbed with such force in her chest, she was certain everyone in the room could hear it. Her cursed shyness closed around her neck like a noose, making it hard to even think straight with the Cabinet’s attention on her.
She tried to open her mouth to answer, but as the lords stared at her, her heart beat faster and faster, and her palms sweat. Say something—anything!
“Princess?” Lord Kleist repeated.
Am I so inept and stupid that I can’t manage a single word? Snow White wanted to shrink in her chair, and her eyes flicked around the room as she looked for a way to escape.
Faina placed a cool hand on Snow White’s arm. “Breathe, darling,” she murmured. “Look at me.”
Snow White nodded at her stepmother and gulped. “I,” she started but paused to swallow with great difficulty. “I am not yet ready for more,” she said. She hated how her voice shook as she forced the words past her lips. “I h-have…much left to learn.”
“You turn eighteen in roughly a year,” Lord Dalberg said. “Soon, you will rule.”
That was enough to make Snow White blurt out, “Not until I am twenty!”
Now that was elegantly put, Snow White internally grumbled. What an excellent job of assuring them so they remain unaware of how I dread my future.
Faina smiled at her, then returned her gaze to the Mullberg lords. “Snow W
Lord Sparneck tried to scratch his chin, squashing the bulky ruffle that encased the neck of his doublet. “As you say, Your Majesty,” he said doubtfully.
“What other matters do we have left to discuss?” Queen Faina asked.
Snow White released a shuddering breath and sagged in relief as the lords shifted the topic of concern, leaving her unnoticed once more.
It remained that way until after the meeting was adjourned and the lords left.
Faina flopped back in her chair and held her right hand over her eyes. “Though we haven’t a single problem in Mullberg, for some reason, each meeting seems more tiring.”
“You have a headache again.” Snow White stood and brushed off the red skirt of her velvet dress.
Faina sighed. “Just a small one.”
“I read of a tea recipe that is supposed to promote blood flow and proper humors.” Snow White straightened the papers her stepmother had scattered across her desk during the meeting. “I’ll send word to the cook, and she will brew it for you.”
Faina cracked a smile and lifted her hand from her eyes long enough to give Snow White an affectionate wink. “Not another one of your nasty brews you pour down my throat in an effort to fix me?”
“With centuries of knowledge at our fingertips, I’m certain I will eventually uncover something that will help you,” Snow White reasoned. “Even if I have to send for books from all corners of the continent.”
Faina laughed. “Anything but that.” She opened a drawer of her desk and removed a dark-colored piece of molasses candy. She offered it to Snow White—who refused—then popped it in her mouth. “We already spend twice our clothing allotment on your books!”
Snow White finished stacking the papers and moved the queen’s sapphire gem inkwell to its proper place. “If I can find something—anything—to help you, it will be worth the expense.”
“Such a skilled little scholar you are.” Faina finally dropped her hand and motioned for Snow White to crouch in front of her. “And I am quite blessed to have such a dedicated step-daughter.”
Snow White lowered her head, and Faina straightened the red ribbon that held Snow White’s black locks back from her face and retied the bow. “Linus delivered the volume of myths and legends you asked for the other day.” The Queen’s close proximity brought a faint whiff of the sticky sweet candy she was so fond of.
Snow White blinked. “I only asked if we had a copy. I didn’t mean to imply you needed to purchase one.”
Faina winked and patted her cheek. “If I am blessed to have such a dedicated step-daughter, I am doubly blessed to have a dedicated step-daughter who also happens to have a great thirst for knowledge. It will serve you well when you become queen.”
Snow White straightened but stared at her feet. “I don’t see how. All the knowledge in the world can’t make me speak clearly before a crowd. I have no excuse for my terrible shyness—for neither lack of education nor childhood trauma is responsible for it. Something must be defective in me.”
“You are not defective,” Queen Faina said sternly. “You are smart, kind, and loyal. No—it is only that every ruler has her strengths and weakness. A good ruler will work to improve them.”
Snow White mashed her lips together. She’d been shy all of her life and had undergone lessons, practice sessions, and more in the name of fixing herself. But no matter how hard she worked, the moment she held a stranger’s attention, her throat closed up, her mouth went dry, and it was difficult to even breathe.
Faina must have caught Snow White’s disbelief, for she stood and gently took Snow White’s hands in her own. “I know you try, Snow White. That is why I believe one day you will become a brilliant and beautiful queen.”
Snow White offered her stepmother a wry smile. “I’m glad you, at least, think so.”
“Everyone does—even those stuffy ministers of ours. It’s why they persist in asking you questions at meetings.” Faina rolled her eyes as she brushed her beautiful auburn bangs from her eyes.
Snow White nodded, hoping her misery did not shine through.
She hated her shyness, not just because it made her feel like a dolt for being unable to say the simplest of things, but also because she was horribly aware that in doing so she was letting down her country and her people.
If only I were braver—or better.
“That was the last meeting for the day—thank goodness.” Faina briefly squeeze her eyes shut. “You’re free to do whatever you wish until dinner. The book of myths should be in your room.”
Snow White glanced at one of the many shelves crammed in the study. “I saw a book about economics.”
“Go drag it off to your book den,” Faina chuckled. “Heaven knows I’m not going to read it.”
Snow White plucked the volume from the shelf and joined the queen at the entrance to the study. “You’re going to go rest in your room?”
Faina grinned—though it was less playful and more tired. “I’m returning to my quarters, but not to rest as you would have me. I intend to imbibe in my weakness and vice as a ruler: my vanity. The seamstress is to fit me for a new dress.”
Snow White wrinkled her nose. “You are not vain.”
“Quite the opposite, my love: I am as shallow as they come—but at least I am aware of it. And that is half the battle.”
Shaking her head, Snow White followed her stepmother into the hallway, cradling her borrowed book as if it were a precious treasure.
Snow White plucked at the full sleeves of her green gown.
Though the majority of the continent took its fashion cues from Loire, Snow White’s stepmother insisted they embrace Mullberg customs and designers—so as to keep the country’s clothing industry and styles within its borders. As such, instead of the smooth sleeves favored by the Loire Princess Elle, both Snow White and Queen Faina had sleeves stuffed at the shoulders and elbows. (The style, in Snow White’s opinion, looked better on Faina. Snow White, being rather petite, thought she looked childish.)
Snow White’s puffs were a delicate gold brocade—though the gathering at her right elbow had become rather lopsided due to her propensity to rest books there when she read outside in the gardens and enjoyed the late summer breezes.
“We’re late.”
Hearing the tightness in her stepmother’s voice, Snow White glanced at the Queen’s back. “They can’t start the meeting without you, Stepmother.”
Faina glided in front of Snow White, her back stiff as she gave no indication of hearing her.
Snow White frowned slightly in concern. Faina was usually unshakeable and playful where Snow White was unbearably shy and sarcastic. But for the last year, she seemed to have lost some of her sparkle. Her headaches have been increasing in frequency and pain; that must be the cause. And yet the Veneno Conclave has not been able to help her. Snow White stifled the rather un-righteous desire to smack the latest mage healer that had visited the palace not a week ago and informed Snow White she was acting hysterical over “mere headaches.”
They cannot be “mere headaches” if they are affecting her so!
Snow White pushed one of her black curls out of her face and continued to follow Queen Faina to the meeting with the royal treasurer and four of his understaff.
They rounded the corner, and Faina collided with a servant carrying a load of clean linens.
Faina bounced backwards but was unharmed and stayed on her feet.
The maid, however, who had tried to leap out of the way at the last moment, slammed into a wood-paneled wall, banging her head on the gem-encrusted frame of a painting.
Snow White hurried forward, reaching for her stepmother’s hand.
