Narissa was waiting for him to return.
“Where have you been?” She demanded.
“I haven’t been anywhere. Where could I go?”
He was amazed he could say as much. While the words were technically true, it was a struggle to spit them out. Fortunately the witch wasn’t actually paying much attention.
“I have a surprise for you,” she said.
Smiling, she drew out a silver box. He allowed the horror to show on his face as she opened the lid, revealing the huntsman’s dagger inside.
“Is that blood?” he cringed.
Narissa nodded as her grin widened. “It’s Snow White’s blood.”
It was clever of the huntsman to prolong the deception like this, but the prince hoped that the man was also smart enough to get as far away from here as possible. Narissa removed her prize from its container and held it up to show him. She turned it delicately, oblivious to the fact that the red stain had nothing to do with her enemy.
“Let’s try again then, shall we? My beloved mirror, tell me. Who is the fairest of them all?”
Again he refused to answer. He held out longer this time, but it did him no good.
“She’s still alive, isn’t she?” asked Narissa, her glorious expression fading sharply.
The prince cursed inwardly. He had hoped to keep Snow safe longer by drawing out Narissa’s belief in her demise. Yet while he hadn’t said that the girl was alive, neither could he truthfully deny it. He decided not to bother.
“You failed,” he taunted.
“Shut up!”
“I thought you wanted me to talk.”
“You will do as I say!”
“Or what?” he countered. “What could you possibly do to me now? You’ve lost your chance. Snow White is gone, and you will never find her.”
“What is it about her? What inspired this level of devotion?” Narissa hissed.
“She did nothing. Her mere existence draws me.”
“If she is the kind of girl you like, I could look like that.”
Indeed, her hair began to darken and her gorgeous face shifted until she perfectly resembled the princess. Yet it was still obviously Narissa in disguise. She could not fake Snow White’s innate personality.
“I keep trying to tell you. It’s not about my feelings for someone else. It’s about not caring for you.”
Narissa dropped her mask as quickly as she had created it. He was left staring on the perfect, frozen face of anger that he had come to know.
“You can decide to look like anyone in the world, and it won’t matter. It will still be you staring out of those eyes,” he told her. “My queen, you have an ugly soul.”
The witch suddenly slammed the mirror so hard it shook. The hate welling up in her eyes made him very conscious of the huntsman’s knife still in her hand.
“She has made you very brave, but you need to remember that I am still the only one you should be worrying about.” She spat. “Everything you are belongs to me. When I find your precious harlot, and have no doubt that I will, I am not leaving anything to chance. I will wring her pretty white throat myself.”
Something shattered as she drove the dagger into the glass. Everything that he was suddenly centred on the hole she had pierced in his soul. It barely registered that this was the first sensation he had experienced in years as he tried to retreat from the sting. He remembered Narissa laughing as the pain became too much to bear.
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