Shimmering candlelight caught the threads of her gown, unfolding around Lucy like a finely woven trail of glittering scales, as if she herself were a creature of legend, bound to serenade men to their graves, enticing them with her otherworldly beauty. Cold metal curled around her neck and wrists, necklaces and bracelets precious enough to fit a Queen's station and heavy enough to never let anyone forget their presence. Lucy was a vision of gold and glamor, shining like the crown jewel in a hoard of treasure.
And on the other end of the wide hall was Snow White, descending a spiraling staircase, the epitome of innocence and demure beauty. Her black hair was allowed to flow freely, decorated not with precious stones but small flowers, delicate and pure in their appearance. Her gown was light and unadorned but couldn't detract from her figure or beauty, instead enhancing the fact that Snow White didn't need anything to be perfect. No expensive fabric, no eye-catching colors or complicated designs - simply herself.
If Lucy was a piece of dead and dusted gold, then Snow White was the freshness of spring, a gentle nature nymph to contrast Lucy's deadly and sinful siren.
Lucy unfurled her fan, glittering and obnoxiously eye-catching as the rest of her costume, with a harsh flick, using it to hide the lower part of her face. But her lips weren't pulled down in a frown - Lucy allowed herself one, small smile.
A spring nymph would only drown in the cruel torrents of this deep-sea palace.
It had been almost two weeks since Snow White's return to the castle and many things had changed during that time.
When Snow White first woke up, bedded in luxurious down-feather blankets and surrounded by watchful nurses and servants, the girl had panicked. She had screamed to let her go, had cried and said that the Queen wanted her heart and her life, that she would be dead if no-one helped her escape.
But her doting and desperate father wasn't here. There was no king to listen to her claims, only the queen she accused reigning supreme within the castle. And as Snow White could procure no evidence apart from the words of her abductor, it was easy to pass the blame.
When Lucy had first gone to see the awakened girl, she had sat at Snow White's bedside, cradling a cup of morning tea between her fingers. The royal physician hovered behind a screen, in case the princess' panic worsened and her frail constitution endangered her, while the king's advisors were waiting in front of the closed doors, not allowed to see the princess in such a stage of distress but certainly allowed to hear her accusations.
Lucy had invited them to.
Rumors festering in the dark were always much harder to weed out when no-one dragged them into the light and let the merciless heat wither them instead.
And so Lucy never protested Snow White's accusations, only sighed as if her heart hurt and asked why the girl would think so ill of her, when she loved her like her own daughter, grieving her disappearance to this day as if a part of her heart had been missing.
"Stop, just stop!" Snow White's eyes were wide while she stared at Lucy, polished obsidians set in white ivory, the contrast stunning. "You're a liar!"
Lucy allowed the steam of her herbal tea to obstruct her view, still not quite used to seeing Snow White, in the flesh, living and speaking and breathing, right in front of her. A figment of a tale with pumping blood and livid eyes. The figment that was opposite her own figure, the opponent's chess piece, the one that in another time would have spelled her ruin and death.
And now they were sitting together in luxurious chambers dripping with crystals and tapestries, conversing while the refreshing scent of mint spread through the air.
Lucy would grow used to it with exposure, but in the beginning it was still quite disconcerting.
"My child -"
"I'm not your child!"
Lucy sighed again. "Your Highness, please open your heart enough to explain to your Queen Mother why you would think so ill of me. What convinced you that I would ever wish you harm?"
Snow White leaned back as if she wanted to further the distance between them, her paleness turning from unblemished porcelain to something more sickly, tinged with gray around her pressed lips. "You - The man who took me, he said ..."
There was a shuddering breath as the girl obviously fought against her memories, long past but never forgotten. "It's only because he couldn't do it, that I'm still alive! If he had followed your vile orders, I would be gone from this world!"
Lucy allowed one of her long fingernails to clink against the rim of her cup, the clear noise almost pensive. "This man who said he was acting under my orders, what was he supposed to do to you?"
"Don't act like you don't know! You wanted him to - to cut out my heart!"
There was a strum of heavy silence permating the room, an echo to the girl's weighing accusation. Lucy couldn't even hear the rustle of the advisor's clothes anymore.
They must have frozen.
Lucy was quick to move through her own rigid fear, buried deep though it was. She lifted the cup to her face allowing the tea to wet her lips before speaking in a clear voice. "This man will be found, and if I have to overturn the whole kingdom to weed him out, it will be worth it to renew your trust in your mother."
Snow White scowled but Lucy continued before the girl could protest their relationship again. "Once he is brought before us, we will know who is the real perpetrator behind him and who would so brazenly use my name to do misdeeds. Until then you should rest, Your Highness. You are finally home."
When Lucy stepped out of the chambers, she gave a regal nod to the advisors who all bowed in turn. "I dare not involve myself in the politics of this land or the process of justice that my husband upholds with his name and might. Trusted advisors, please act upon your conscience."
And though Snow White never stopped blaming Lucy, there was no trial officially accusing her. Instead men were sent out to scour the kingdom, searching for the bogeyman off a frightened girl's tale.
And though the rumors didn't die out completely, they morphed into fanciful speculations to pass the afternoon leisure instead of growing claws that would drag Lucy into hellfire. Because once one thought about it, the claims really were a bit far-fetched. Would a Queen, without any children of her own, abduct the only daughter of her husband, then allow her henchman to unveil her involvement to that same daughter and then let her victim live so she could one day accuse her? And would the Queen herself then be the one to recognize and bring this daughter back?
People laughed and shook their heads and quietly wondered who had been the real villain behind it all, wanting to wound both the princess and the queen with one clever stroke, driving a wedge into the relationship of royal mother and daughter.
And while gazing at the flowering roses in her garden, Lucy could at least be sure that the huntsman, who would have been able to validate Snow White's accusations, was never to be found.
But Snow White was not confined to her bed forever, and though naive, she certainly wasn't dumb. She stopped shouting about the injustice, though she was the only one to never doubt Lucy's involvement. Maybe because it was a belief that she had fostered for the last ten years or maybe it was some inherent mistrust gifted to her by this world that was supposed to protect her from the villainess. But she realized that for now there was no process to be made without her father or the huntsman to back her up, and so Snow White slowly shifted her focus to life at court, integrating herself into a world that was foreign to her despite her blood claims to the highest title.
And suddenly the reins were taken from Lucy's hand. She was delegated to bystander as Snow White herself took over the role of villainess to her own fate, blundering with every step.
Her first misstep happened during a big feast that was held to celebrate her safe return, nobles from all over the land attending to catch a glimpse of this elusive, formerly-missing princess.
And Snow White, the guest of honor, seated at the highest place of prominence, sprung up when the servants entered the hall with the first course and offered to help them.
It was safe to say that Lucy wasn't the only one stunned into speechlessness. Sure, she had known that Snow White was a perfect fairy-tale princess, embodying goodness and compassion. Lucy was aware that Snow White hadn't come into contact with any trace of nobility in the past ten years.
But surely ... surely, even so this was ridiculous. A princess offering to carry a bread basket?
For a few seconds no-one knew how to react and then the table revived. Shocked gasps and mean-spirited snickers were barely hidden behind perfumed handkerchiefs as the attending nobles rippled back to life, watching the play Snow White had unwittingly put on. The servants on the other hand looked close to fainting, unsure how they were supposed to act. After all they couldn't deny a princess' request but if they really allowed Snow White to help them bring out the dishes like a common serving wench it would be their necks on the chopping block.
Lucy was not one to let opportunities slip past. "Please excuse my daughter, she is young and pure of heart, all traits of a benevolent and caring ruler. Of course she does not intend to actually assist with such a lowly task ..."
"Stop putting words in my mouth! Why are you making me insincere? And where would you be, without all these people doing 'lowly tasks'?"
The servants frozen inside the hall immediately fell to their knees, bowing more deeply than Lucy had seen them before. If Snow White thought she was earning their gratitude for standing up for them, she was deeply mistaken. Because they knew they would be the ones to pay for Snow White's brash claims.
Lucy let them cower for a few long breaths before she gracefully waved a long-fingered hand. "Resume your duties."
The fanciful dishes almost clattered in the haste with which they were put down before the servants fled the hall like mice before a cat, while only those tasked with attending were forced to remain.
Deep down, Lucy felt a slow simmer of discontent, souring her stomach while she watched the sneering nobles all around her.
Lucy wasn't actually the evil queen. She didn't believe she was owed meticulous service or that she was born better than anyone else. If she were allowed to be herself, she would have agreed with Snow White's words, knowing them to be true. A monarchy rested not on the shoulders of its king but on the shoulders of its servants, peasants, farmers, all the little wheels turning so the machine could work. Without them there would be no feast to enjoy and no gowns to wear.
But Lucy was not herself. And so she didn't say anything while Snow White slowly sat back down and the feast resumed, though with an added air of scandal about it.
Lucy absently wondered how this had played out originally. Was the king present at Snow White's first presentation and so better able to shield his daughter, certainly more effectively than Lucy who was parading her around and subtly antagonizing her with every sugary word?
Or was Snow White's future husband so devoted to his new bride that he allowed Snow White all her eccentricities, overthrowing traditional beliefs and systems for her sake?
After all it was a fairytale. No one cared beyond a 'happily ever after'.
But in this reality Snow White was forced to suffer the servants' terror and the nobles' disdain alone. Lucy knew that the princess' behavior reflected on herself as well, talk of bad upbringing and lacking role-models that would cling to her name like dust after this first public presentation. But she didn't care, because while for her it was dust, for Snow White it was dirt.
It didn't remain Snow White's last faux-pas. In the coming days, Lucy was often relegated with the woes of terrified kitchen staff, who found Snow White in their midst, claiming she wanted to learn new recipes - or, even more hair-raising for the cooks, show them her own.
Of course they would never dare let a princess serve them and so Lucy was often called to mediate. Slowly her role changed, though she was still the same devil ruling this certain circle of hell, now she didn't only inspire fear but also relief - because Lucy was the only one in a position that could rein well-meaning and curious Snow White in.
But no matter how often she 'carefully' (ineffectively) reprimanded Snow White, it only proved to antagonize the girl and push her further into her un-ladylike behavior. After terrorizing the kitchens, Snow White switched her focus to the gardens and groundskeepers, enamored by the beautiful flowers growing year-round. And once those servants fled at the mere sight of her presence, Snow White found the stables, fascinated with the horses and cats.
Knowing it would be their fatal fault should Snow White suffer any injury while carelessly invading the horse's space, the stable boy was in actual tears while bowing to Lucy, pleading for mercy.
And Snow White in turn was predictably enraged with Lucy when she forbade her from entering the stables, only slightly pacified when Lucy allowed her to bring a flea-bitten cat into her rooms to keep as a pet. Scratched skirts and dresses teeming with loose cat hair would certainly not help Snow White's standing and then even Lucy was surprised when Snow White actually took the animal to a small afternoon tea Lucy had arranged for a few of her ladies-in-waiting.
Of course it ended in disaster, cat puke on a Marchioness' shoes, seventeen servants chasing a barely domesticated feline through the echoing chamber while all they had left of the tea tray were glittering shards and steaming puddles.
It couldn't have gone better if Lucy had planned it. And so she felt almost idle in her villainous existence, as it was enough to simply leave Snow White free reign.
Lucy knew that she wasn't wholly without responsibility when it came to the princess' current standing. She should have given the girl tutors for etiquette, allowed her a bit more time to find her standing within the castle before throwing her in front of the whole kingdom, admonished her more earnestly after her first missteps while explaining why they were missteps in the first place.
But Lucy clung to the mantle of a Queen who couldn't bring herself to burden the dearly missed princess with any hardships, allowing her to do as she wished.
A too indulgent mother was just as harmful as a negligent one.
And so Snow White's spree of misconduct continued, leading to this first ball of the season. Lucy had dragged the event forward quite a bit, wanting to hold it as soon as possible, before the King's return. She knew that her freedom to act as she wished would disappear as soon as her husband's boots crossed the threshold and she didn't doubt for a second that he would be Snow White's most important ally. Of course the King had been informed via courier as soon as Snow White's identity had been confirmed by her old wetnurse and Lucy knew that he was bound to arrive sooner rather than later, spurred by his wish to embrace his long-lost child.
And maybe he wouldn't be so quick to dismiss his daughter's accusations as everyone else had been.
The ball, which had once been scheduled for later spring as a chance for young ladies to debut, suddenly took place in early spring, when the first sprigs of green were only just unfurling.
Snow White wouldn't yet be presented as a new debutante, as it would be below her standing to share the limelight with other noble daughters. But after Lucy made sure that the preparations for the ball were no secret, Snow White wished to attend, driven by an innocent curiosity and thirst for life that had only proven to hinder her until now.
Especially when Lucy tried to carefully discourage her, only making the girl more determined to go. And so Lucy, plagued with the inability to deny her 'daughter' anything, allowed her to appear now, dressed as a woodland spirit with ethereal beauty.
But this was no mere village festival, where mortals clamored for a glimpse of a fairy girl. This was a royal ball, the first one of the season, attended not by mere men and women, but by sly fox spirits and preening peacocks, decked out in pearls, feathers, satin and fur. And so Snow White's appearance was not a cause of awe but of ridicule. She looked lovely, but in the eyes of the nobles she was no better than a farmer's daughter who had woven common weeds into her hair, scattering the small petals of daisies and bluebells in her wake.
Of course Lucy hadn't forced Snow White to appear as such. She had offered the girl a multitude of fancy gowns, followed by a stream of expensive fabrics from her own stores, trailed by the best seamstress in the kingdom. But Snow White had rejected it all, her disgust for Lucy coloring her decision. She wanted to choose her outfit herself, and once again, Lucy had allowed the girl's every whim.
Maybe in another life, if Lucy hadn't been there to serve as a contrast and to fan the flames, Snow White would have charmed some of the courtiers with her current appearance. Such an unconceited and bright girl, standing out through her modesty and unique wit, clever enough to use what nature so readily provided to enhance her own beauty. Maybe Snow White would have started a new trend among the younger girls, who would be eager to emulate such a pretty princess.
But as soon as Lucy sighed and miniscully shook her head, it was over. Something the Queen deemed this unsightly should not be copied by anyone hoping to remain in her good graces.
And all around her Lucy could hear the gossip that had been attached to Snow White's name rear its head, invigorated by the girl's newest misstep.
"Look at her ..."
"Like a wild thing."
"Fitting, considering she was found in the forest."
"Hush! How do you know where she was found?"
"How do you not? The forest isn't even the worst of it."
"Do tell, don't leave us in suspense."
"Why would I risk my neck for your curiosity?"
"What neck, you're risking nothing by talking about her."
"Well, only because I think the truth should always prevail. The princess was found acting as a little peasant wife, washing the clothes of man and child alike."
"No! You mean ... in the forest? All those years?"
"Well, how else would she survive? Truly a pity, a princess reduced to such a state. And now look at her here, making the queen despair ..."
"Do you think the man ..."
Lucy tuned out the little whispers and giggles in her vicinity, picking a flute of prickling champagne off a waiting servant's tray. The stem of the glass fit neatly between her slim fingers, the bubbles of the liquid tickling the roof of her mouth.
On the other end of the great hall Snow White started gliding through the crowd like a swan across a lake - unknowing what the dark waters held in store for her. Lucy watched her with unreadable eyes, the fizzy drink suddenly turning sour in her mouth.
No matter how much the nobility looked down on Snow White, her behavior and her past alike, she was still somehow good. Her antics, while annoying (and truly nightmare-inducing for the servants) weren't evil.
It was almost as if Lucy's determination to bury her strengthened Snow White's position instead, a heroine pushed down by her circumstances, the veritable under-dog, but despite everything she never lost her positive outlook.
No, things wouldn't work the way they were now. Snow White was still unblemished by bad intentions, no trace of gray to be found.
Lucy needed the girl's desperation. She needed to drive Snow White into a corner, where she would be faced with solely bad decisions. So desperate that she committed something that could be considered 'evil'.
And looking at her now, Lucy really had no idea how. Snow White was already as disadvantaged as possible, shunned by her peers and all alone in an unfamiliar castle, her opponent the most influential person around. But still, she remained true to herself.
Lucy had assumed Snow White would fight her more viciously upon her return, she had assumed that the girl would clamor for her execution and upon not getting it, that she would be tempted to take matters into her own hands.
But Snow White was too passive. She loathed Lucy but all that this loathing inspired her to do was rant against her 'mother'. She was almost like every other teen in existence.
Lucy took another sip of her glass, allowing the liquid to soothe her dry throat.
How truly annoying.