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The cook smiled as the Queen continued.
“And if you can manage it, a six-layered cake of chocolate, hazelnut, and cream cheese; a bit rich, but we can serve anise afterward…”
Verona came into the room looking a bit mussed, strands of her hair falling from atop her head, and her cheek smudged with what looked like ash.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, my Queen, but I would like to discuss the decorations. I was wondering if you had anything in mind?”
The Queen looked up from the list she was going over with the cook and smiled at Verona.
“I do, actually. I have many trunks in my private chamber filled with the decorations my father made for my mother many years before I was born.”
Verona looked relieved.
“How lovely, my Queen. Would you like me to start unpacking them?”
The Queen thought about it for a moment and said, “I would love your help, Verona, along with a few of our most capable maids. The mirrors will have to be washed before they are hung, of course, but I would prefer to unpack them myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I completely understand, my Queen.”
Then the Queen looked to the cook and said, “If you’ll please excuse me, I will leave with you the menu I’ve written up. If you have any questions, we can discuss it later this evening.”
“Of course, my Queen,” he responded.
And with that the Queen followed Verona to the Queen’s private chamber. No one in the castle had a key to this room but the Queen and Verona. As the Queen took the key off the little belt under the fold of her blouse, she felt a tinge of nervousness. She slipped the key into the lock, turned it, then slowly opened the door.
Dread.
The room contained all of her mother’s and father’s things: the last of her father’s mirrors, the portrait of her mother, as well as decorations that were lovingly packed away in crates, probably by her own mother’s hands the year before the Queen’s birth. The King had the items moved to the castle when he and the Queen were married.
She had never before had a reason to come into this room, and truth be told, she had tried to avoid it. It was full of fragments of her old life. And now, it felt as if she were stepping into a cold, dark crypt. She noticed Verona shiver too.
The Queen opened the trunk, and a rush of memory flooded over her. The trunk smelled of her father’s house. It’s strange how a scent can call up such vivid memories, practically transporting you back in time—the smell of the shop, the moldy, musty scent of her former home.
She pushed the thoughts out of her mind as she unwrapped the little mirrors, noticing a face that looked much like her mother’s reflecting back at her.
Verona noticed the Queen’s discomfort and decided to make idle chatter.
“You look so much like your mother, I almost thought that portrait was of you.”
“The King said as much when he first came to my father’s shop years ago. I didn’t see it then, but I do now. I almost thought she was looking back at me from these mirrors.”
Verona smiled. She thought to herself how lucky Snow was to have the Queen as her stepmother. And the winter celebration would make the girl so happy. If only those horrible sisters hadn’t decided to stay for the solstice. Verona felt uneasy in the sisters’ presence, and wondered how the Queen did not feel the same way. Why had she invited them to stay for the celebration? Verona dreaded the sound of their rustling skirts and their chattering voices coming down the hall in the morning. Their annoying high-pitched laughs, simpering whispers, and their habit of finishing each other’s thoughts and sentences were far too much for Verona to bear.
She almost wished the sisters would cross the line somehow, do something that would justify the Queen’s asking them to leave. One couldn’t help but focus all attention upon them when they were in the room; they were like that—morbidly appealing. Verona often found herself looking at them in fascination, curiosity, and revulsion, hoping her face did not betray her when the sisters caught her staring at them with a sickening awe.
Snow came into the room, interrupting Verona’s thoughts.
“Lucinda says we are going to put candles and mirrors in the trees like Grandma used to on solstice eve, Momma. Is that true?”
“It is true, my little bird,” the Queen said. “You may help me if you like.”
Snow smiled and said, “I would love to, Momma. Let me tell my cousins I can’t have tea with them and I will be right back.”
The Queen noticed that Verona looked disturbed by something as she watched the girl run off.
“What is it, Verona?”
Verona made a funny pinched expression pushing her lips to the side; she looked as if she were thinking of the right words.
