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The torches guide me through the castle until I come to a darkened hallway in the belly of the palace. Two huntsmen guard the door, and it only takes a moment to utter a sleeping spell. When they’re slumped on the ground, snoring heavily, I throw open the door and step inside.
I come to an abrupt halt when I see Snow White lying on the floor, her dress ripped open, and Silas on top of her, stroking her hair, calling her Elspeth. If the fury I had over the mirror naming Snow White the fairest was intense, what I feel now is all-consuming. My fists clench at my sides while my magic swirls around me in an agitated tornado. My chest heaves with heavy breaths, and my vision goes red.
“Whore!” I scream at her as I step closer. Sending a tendril of magic shooting into Silas, I wait for his eyes to turn black before leaning down and grabbing her by her long lustrous hair. Her body stiffens when she comes out of whatever trance she seemed to be in, her mouth opening and closing when she sees the ferocity of my anger.
Pressing my face close to hers, I spit, “Is this how you are trying to win your father’s attention back? By opening your legs for him?”
Snow shakes her head, her wide eyes unable to hide the terror in them. “No, stepmother. I swear it, I did not ask for this. I did not want it.”
I sneer back at her and turn her head, making her look at her father. Reduced to his puppet state, he sits on the floor, his flaccid cock dangling between his legs. His darkened eyes stare blankly, and a sliver of drool hangs from his lip. This is how he should be after all these years. I was wondering how he was able to resist my magic—even if only a little—for all this time, and now I know.
It was her fault. She’s the spitting image of her mother, except for those freakish eyes of hers. Although I had removed all of the paintings and reminders of her after my marriage to Silas, I still remember her beauty.
“There’s your father, Snow White. Take a good look. He’s nothing but a drooling idiot. But you? You have betrayed me. I have allowed you to live, have allowed you to sleep under this roof and have food to fill your stomach. This is how you repay me?” I shake her hard, her head snapping back and forth with the force of my anger.
Her hand moves to rest over her stomach, and I go still. My gaze runs down her body, and I truly look at her. “No,” I breathe, my magic starting to whip even faster around me. It’s almost undetectable, but her belly is slightly swollen, and the fury comes racing back. Setting her on her feet, I grab her wrist and pull her from the room, ignoring her stumbling footsteps behind me as I drag her to the dungeons.
I cannot allow anyone to witness what I’m about to do. Although a good portion of the castle is under my full control, some are only able retain my spell for short periods. Others, not at all. And a few that I haven’t bothered with, as I do need functioning protection should another country decide to invade. I’ve managed to frighten most of the population into obedience, but there are small pockets of resistance.
Should they discover Snow White’s plight, I’ll have a war on my hands. I may be the most powerful sorceress in the kingdom, but I’m not the only one. And the Restüra Continent, of which Valderán is but one country, has many more. It could become a problem should they make it their business.
Snow drags her feet the closer we get to the dungeons. “Please, Morana, I’m sorry. I swear I did not do this!” Her whiny cry sets my teeth on edge. Rounding on her, I growl, “You should have kept your legs closed. I’ll make sure your father never looks at you with lust in his eyes again.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, her head lowered.
Oh, poor child. I think you misunderstand me. When I’m through with you, no man will ever want you. And I’ll be the fairest in the land once more.
We arrive at the gates to the dungeon. Thick iron bars block the entrance, and I pull a set of keys from a hidden pocket sewn into my skirt. After it’s unlocked, I drag Snow White down the dimly lit stone staircase. The room isn’t as big as it could have been, but since the country has been at peace for over a century, it hasn’t been required. The low ceilings are arched, the stones perfectly placed to balance the weight of the palace above it. Small arrow slit windows line one wall, letting in the barest amount of light. Two cells are placed on the window side. Although the windows have no panes in them—allowing prisoners to freeze in the winter and be eaten alive by mosquitos in the summer—they are far too narrow for even a small child to fit through, so do not pose an escape threat.
Each cell contains a wooden bucket and a heap of moldy hay. To the right of the cells is a wall complete with chains and manacles, and to the right of that, several instruments are hung. A vicious barbed whip, large rusted pincers, a blood-splattered saw, and spiked gloves wait patiently to be used.
Swinging Show White around to the front of me, I push her up against the cool stone wall. She sobs quietly, the sound grating and most irritating. Leaning down, I rip the ruined dress from her and toss it in the corner. Snow immediately tries to cover her breasts and genitals, and cries out when I tear her arms away, locking the manacles around her wrists, then ankles.
“Why are you doing this?” she cries, her gaze flinching away from the sight of the tools.
“I am the fairest in the land!” I shout back at her, flinging my hair over my shoulder. “I will not allow anyone to best me. Especially not the daughter of that whimpering bitch, Elspeth.”
“My mother was not a bitch,” she growls back at me, finding a bit of backbone. I am almost impressed with her daring; it’s been a while since anyone has challenged me.
“Oh, but she was,” I sing, turning my back on her. “I saved her life, you know. The great Queen Elspeth, beloved by all . . . yet cried herself to sleep and refused to eat, simply because she could not conceive a child.”
Snow frowns, a shiver working through her body. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Stepping forward, I lift her chin with a finger, a dark smile playing on my lips. “My dear sweet child. Has no one told you the truth? Your mother was barren, as useless as a glass of wine under water. When she locked herself in her room, starving herself to death, I came to her. I saved her, and with my magic, allowed you to be conceived.” I poke her in the forehead. “So, you see, you owe your life to me. Without me, you would never have been born.”
“Without you, my mother would still be alive!”
Stepping back from her, I chuckle darkly. “True, but that is neither here nor there. The past cannot be undone. But I will ensure no one takes from me that which is mine.”
Chapter 6
Cassian
Myheartfeelsasif it’s being ripped in two. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could block out the sounds of the king’s grunts and groans as he defiles his daughter. I want to kill him, to inflict the kind of pain on him that he is on Snow. I want to strangle him with my bare hands and mount his head on a spike.
I want to pull her into my arms and take her somewhere far away, where we’ll both be safe.
I remember the day she was born. My father, Alaric, brought me into the royal nursery when she was just a few hours old. The queen was resting in the next chamber from the birth, and a nurse sat next to the cradle, humming a lullaby.
