Mirror Mirror

Chapter 5: A Trip to the Village

Brighton, who was following behind her, looked nervous. "Uh...forgive me, Your Majesty, but I don't understand."

The Queen sighed. "Brighton, the Prince is rich. He's built like an ox. I'm going to marry him, and then my financial problems will be...solved." She explained, with a snap of her fingers.

"No, I understand that part. What I don't understand is how you intend to pay for the party. It pains me to say this, but you're broke, my Queen." Brighton reminded her.

The Queen placed her hands on her hips. "Then go collect more taxes."

Brighton laughed nervously. "Your Majesty, I don't know the last time you were in town, but the people are starving."

"Do you have no imagination?" She snapped. "Go tell the villagers that bread is meat, less is more, blah, blah, blah. Commoners love a good metaphor. Just go sell it."

Brighton nodded, and left the room.

...

Across the frozen body of water, Winter and (Y/n) entered the now run down and depressed village. They both looked around in shock at how bad the living conditions were.

There were people sitting out in the streets, freezing, and some where standing around fires that they had made to keep warm.

A little girl approached Winter and (Y/n), holding out her hands.

"Excuse me, do you have anything to eat?" She asked.

Winter looked at her with pity and sadness in his eyes, and looked up at the girl's mother. "What happened here? I visited once with my father. It was a wonderful place. People always seemed to be singing and dancing."

"That must have been many years ago." The mother replied.

A horse neighed in the distance as a carriage pulled up into the village. Brighton stepped out, and Winter quickly pulled his hood up, and took (Y/n)'s hand, pulling her around the corner of a building.

Brighton climbed the stairs and pinned a piece of paper to a wooden square that read 'Notices'.

The crowd gathered around to see what the message was, and a man wearing glasses looked at the taxes notice incredulously.

"More taxes?"

Brighton looked at him. "Good. You can read. Make sure they are collected in a timely fashion."

"What's she doing with all our money?" A woman asked.

"Protecting you."

"From what?" Another villager asked.

"Must I remind you of the brutal attacks we have suffered?" Brighton said.

"He speaks of..."

"The beast!"

The villagers all gasped and stepped back.

"Yes. Evil lurks in the dark woods, more hideous than you could ever imagine. The only reason it hasn't gorged itself on all of you is because your tax dollars are hard at work. I'll be back tomorrow for the money." Brighton said, walking away.