The Queen's Poison
3. Into the Woods
Months dragged into years. I knew things could not continue this way, young as I was. My brother, only nine years old, was taking the death of our father very hard. As the heir apparent and a son, Father had made much of him.
Wilhelm was exactly like our father at that age, I heard from my paternal grandmother. Over the next three years he grew to resemble Father’s portrait in the hall. The painting of him at age sixteen before his health suddenly failed.
Tall for his age, tawny hair, broad shoulders, with a square face and Roman nose. Only Wilhelm’s eyes looked different. Narrow and golden brown. Father’s eyes had been dark blue like mine.
Mother suddenly took an interest in Wilhelm. It may have begun from spite, to show me what I was missing in the way of that maternal affection she publicly lavished on the prince. But being who she was, Mother had to have someone weaker than herself to do things to. To stamp her own image upon like a coin of our realm.
During this time, Mother seemed to want to make amends. She would let me eat at the royal table and attend ceremonies and festivities as one of the family…if I would do things her way.
This would involve messing around in her room again. I realized this without being told. As much out of fear as love I let the Queen have her way with me.
She took me to “our chamber” after the first dinner. After putting the key chain around my neck once more she regaled me with stories regarding items around the room.
“See these, Snowdrop? You wouldn’t want to dance in them. Remember the story of Creon’s ill-fated daughter who was killed by the powerful sorceress Medea? Like the robe and crown that consumed Glauce’s flesh these slippers will start to work within seconds of putting them on. The wearer will die dancing from pain as her flesh melts away. The red-hot flames enveloping her from the feet up.”
She also taught me the uses of other potions. Love filters, beauty elixirs, youth potions, the Circe Elixir good for turning men into hogs (“So their outsides can match their insides,” Mother gave a cackle.) But her favorite of all were the poisons.
And she kept dragging me back to that Mirror of hers. Making me watch her talk to that double behind the glass that answered her questions in a voice like hers but not quite.
“Mirror on the wall, is my kingdom safe?”
“For now, it is. But unless your majesty sees to the Duchess of Wolfrum, it won’t remain so for long.” For a moment a scene flashed over the mirror of the Duchess talking to two other ladies at court.
The Queen’s face darkened. “The House of Wolfrum has challenged my authority on more than one occasion. I will banish the two she is talking to. Neither has the potential to be a true threat if stripped of their court appointments and exiled from the capital. I will attend to the Duchess myself.”
She pressured me to talk to my own reflection. When I demurred, she grew angry—saying I could not learn the Craft till I had overcome my insane fear about self-worship. The one thing standing in my way of gaining untold power.
At the end of the week, I finally turned on her. “You want to absorb me. To slurp up my soul like your food or drink. To turn me into nothing but a mirror to reflect your glory. But I’m not a mirror. I’m a human girl. A real person. Not your instrument or toy.”
I ran out of that room, never to return.
Knowing better than to join them at the royal table again, I hid once more. Only sneaking to the dining hall between meals to leave the key she had given me at the head of the table where she sat.
A week later, Mother summoned me to meet her in the throne room. Beforehand she sent two maidservants in with a dress from my better days, altered to fit my fourteen-year-old figure. They even helped me arrange a decent scarf of silk to cover my matted, dirty hair.
I approached the throne, more frightened than any peasant would have been. The throne room was packed. But it had more courtiers than guards. And the latter seemed to be there for ceremonial purposes. My brother sat wearing robes and coronet in an elegant chair to her right.
To my surprise everyone who had been seated rose except the Queen herself. She smiled in approval and motioned me to the throne by a wave of her scepter.
I curtsied. She motioned to me to rise.
“Princess Eva Bertha Hildegarde Candice Bridget Claudia Genevieve, we have received a letter from the queen mother of King Hildebrand III, ruler of Forstenwald.”
The Queen took out the letter. Tracing the lines with her index finger, she reached the part which she read aloud to us.
“‘My late husband spent a summer at your castle as a youth. He always had fond memories of your brothers. When he was bedfast with his final illness, he asked me to offer you my services in educating your daughter at our court.
“‘While perhaps not so blessed with material riches as Grimm, Perrault—our capital—is known throughout the Seven Kingdoms and elsewhere for its culture and educational opportunities. Particularly for the fair sex. A convent on the palace grounds famed for its…’” Mother stopped.
“Suffice it to say, the widowed queen has offered to educate you. Tomorrow at dawn you will set off with an armed escort for Forstenwald. With the added airs and polish you shall learn at her court, there will come opportunities to meet eligible men. Many more than are available here.”
Shortly after, the meeting ended. It was already late in the day. I was ordered to eat at my old place at the family table.
In my room for the night, I saw a new trunk for my travels. On opening it I was shocked at how few articles were inside.
Maybe Mother had arranged with the queen of Forstenwald to have a new wardrobe made for me upon arrival. Or so I thought at the time.
A day’s ride through the countryside beyond the castle brought us to the giant forest on the border between kingdoms. The huntsman leading our party (consisting of an elderly maidservant and two soldiers besides myself) explained that Spritewood was so vast and dense that wild beasts had their way in it.
That was why my mother “the queen” (he bowed to me as he spoke) had charged him with leading us through. The journey would last at least three days and lead us between the mountains which had the forest covering the lower parts of their sides.
I didn’t know our new huntsman that well. What I found odd was how he avoided my eyes. He only spoke to me with a cold formality befitting a member of royalty, though he talked normally to the others including the maidservant.
We camped the first night on the edge of Spritewood. The journey in the forest took a lot longer due to the obstructions and lack of a clear path.
One of the soldiers asked the huntsman why we weren’t taking one of the well worn paths. Or even that road used by merchants a little further on. The huntsman gruffly told him to obey his orders since he was following his.
We spent the next two nights in the woods. The third afternoon we took a short break as the forest grew thinner and slept at an inn not far from the copper mines where a village lay. We also spied a shepherd or two watching flocks in the meadow.
After breakfast the following morning, the huntsman said, “Your highness, there is something I need to discuss with you and you alone.”
He led me back into the woods. An unusually thick part. On the way we passed a lamb.
“It will die out here,” he muttered. I realized from his slurred speech, bloodshot eyes, and the smell of whiskey that he was drunk.
Tired, I was glad when we stopped. I was going to ask him what he had to tell me. Suddenly he grabbed me and covered my mouth.
I struggled to free myself and moaned. Already I felt the hunting blade at my throat.
“This won’t hurt much,” he whispered. “I promise.”
I sobbed, then freed my mouth. “Why?”
The huntsman groaned and released me. “I can’t. I have a daughter your age. The queen ordered me to kill you.”
She really hated me that much.
“I’m going back to catch that lamb. I will take its heart and liver back for the queen to eat. She’ll think they are yours.
“But your highness, you cannot return.”
I wept. “You may as well kill me now. Otherwise, I will die out here alone in the woods. Either from hunger or the wild beasts.”
He shook his head. “No. You don’t have to die.” He led me a few dozen paces further and showed me a narrow stream. “This is flowing downhill. It will lead you back to the valley. You know how to spin don’t you?”
I nodded.
“Offer to help at one of the nearby farms. It’s about shearing time.” He knelt before me as though begging for his life. “Forgive me for laying hands on you, your highness. At least I don’t have your death on my conscience. Remember to pray for me. May the good Lord look after you in the days ahead. Farewell.”
As I waved goodbye, he made his way back to the inn. Then I followed the stream.
It gave out before the forest ended. The day was ending. But, as providence would have it, I found a tiny footpath leading out of the forest.
Finding myself in a valley, I wandered about. As darkness fell I trembled and whispered my prayers.
In the gathering twilight my eyes seemed to play tricks on me. Ethereal shapes floated out of the forest. Others slid.
Almost human in outline, yet not human. Figures of flame, cloud, and running water.
One of the last approached me. I stood frozen.
“Sorry I couldn’t help you out of the wood. But I can show you where to stay tonight.”
It seemed friendly and I was desperate.
Following it to a tiny shelter, I stood at the door.
“This is a resting place where those of earth sometimes stay. They should treat you well. You can live in this better than under water or floating in the air. And don’t get me started on what the salamanders’ place is like.”
Before I could respond, it turned to water and flowed away to join the rest.
Exhausted from all the frights I had endured, the long walks, and hunger, I entered the shack. There was a bed of leaves and a few blankets in the corner.
I slept well that night.