Snow stood, with the doorway, the bleak winter sun illuminating her features. She watched Prince as he strode away, his retreating figure getting smaller and smaller, before it was engulfed by the shadows of the trees, their branches interlocking behind him. Off to mine once more.
A different, however crazy thought occured to her.
Should she follow him? She could go unnoticed...
"Hey."
Snow's eyes widened at the sudden visitor blocking the doorway, her heart palpitating slightly at the surprise intrusion.
"What in the world are you doing here?"
Andrew only grinned sheepishly at Snow's exclamation, withholding a laugh at her incredulous expression.
"What are you laughing at? Get away from here!" Snow chatised, though even she could hear the smile in her voice. "I told you to go back!"
Andrew shrugged. "I changed my mind?"
Snow blinked.
Andrew blinked back. Astute and unmoving. Perhaps even expectant.
"I guess you better come in then," she sighed, moving to allow his form to pass through the threshold- it did.
"Why are you here?" she blurted, the moment the door closed behind him. "Why did you come back?"
Andrew was oblivious to her words, drawing in a deep breath, before releasing it in a large sigh. "There's something Amity found," he said, his voice dropping low. As if he had expected a spy to be hidden in the midst of the cabin.
Snow felt her heart palpitate for the second time. "What?"
"A letter." Andrew's expression spoke of sorrow, even sympathy, shooting sparks of fear into Snow's heart.
"From who?" Snow knew the answer before he even spoke.
"Your mother."
"My step-mother? The Queen?" It was the answer she understood- the answer she expected.
"No... Your birth mother."
"What?" Snow felt her confusion sink into her features, replacing the dread present just seconds ago.
"Apparently," Andrew replied, his expression almost grim.
Snow's eyes widened, and suddenly the letter was in her hands, snatched from Andrew's grasp. She grappled at the folds, almost ripping the fragile paper in her haste to peruse it.
"It's... uh... not what you would expect," Andrew cautioned.
Snow spared him a curious glance before her gaze finally managed to land on the open letter- the slanted cursive font splayed upon the page. Holding precious words.
She drew in a deep breath. She was going to read them. The only words left of her biological mother. She released the breath.
And began to read.
My dearest Snow,
By the time you read this, I know I will be long gone. So it is only natural that I apologise for my absence- that I could've been there for you, watching you blossom into the fine woman I would've raised. But it seems that fate would not have it.
The most I can do now is offer information. Information and warning.
I am a witch.
That is something you must recognise, for I know not of who is to care for you in your childhood.
I have magic. And I fear you have it too. But magic matures upon your eighteenth birthday, and hence, you may not wield it until much later. But is a fact and an expectation that if you choose to use it, it must be done with precaution and thought. Its consequences can be much worse than you assume.
YOU ARE READING
Snow (SLOW UPDATES)
Teen FictionOnce upon a time... There lived a princess named Snow White. But this is not the fairy-tale you were told. Snow has lived her whole life cast out of royalty, treated like vermin, and ordered carelessly about by her vindictive step-mother. She slave...
