and here, of all places. “What are you doing here?”
He was unsteady on his feet, so she held on to his arm even though it felt strange to hold a man’s arm like this. “I’ve been looking for you, Snow!”
“Me? Whatever for?” Snow asked, her heart beating a bit quicker.
“I was on an urgent mission to get back to your castle to find you and took a shortcut, but my horse was scared off by the darkness,” Henri explained. “I got turned around and couldn’t find my way out.”
“Humph. Some plan,” Grumpy mumbled.
“Urgent?” Snow repeated. “Is this about the queen? Has she told the kingdom I’m dead?”
“You dead?” Henri’s blue eyes held a world of surprise. “You mean him? We didn’t think she believed he was a threat, but he could be . . .”
He wasn’t making sense. Snow reached out and touched Henri’s head, then pulled her hand back again just as quickly. Everyone was looking at her. Her cheeks felt flushed. “How hard did you fall, Henri?” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “What are you talking about?”
Henri grabbed her hand. “Snow, I found your father.”
Ten years earlier
The second her fingertips touched the glass, she could
feel the energy draining from her body. Her fingers felt warm, then warmer, and eventually the sensation moved up her arm, past her shoulders, and spread throughout her body.
She didn’t look at the mirror while this change was occurring. For some reason, she always kept her eyes shut and distracted herself with the faint humming sound the mirror emitted. It reminded her of lightning crackling over the hills beyond the castle walls.
Giving more of her lifeblood, as the mirror called it, was a desperate move. After the last time, she’d sworn to the mirror she would never do it again. The procedure left her feeling weak and ill, more and more. She’d get so sick she’d take to her bed for days, drawing the curtains and blocking out all sound. Even a thimble falling sounded like an earthquake. Opening her eyes made her feel like she was staring into the sun. Every bone in her body seemed to scream out in pain if she moved even slightly, and her head throbbed with a bone-crushing migraine like she’d never experienced before. It took days before she could sit up again, or even eat the smallest piece of bread.
But when her body returned to full strength, she could feel the difference coursing through her veins. The mirror was right: she was more powerful, smarter, and prettier than ever before.
Her handmaidens would marvel when she emerged from her quarters with skin so dewy she looked half her age. “A restful night’s sleep does wonders for you, Lady Ingrid.”
Ingrid would say nothing and keep walking, but she loved hearing their whispers.
“She looks younger than even the queen!” she once heard one say. “How is that possible?”
“Witchcraft!” someone else inevitably suggested.
Let them talk. They were just jealous. How could they not be? She looked better than she had in years. The calluses from her years of labor in the fields and the magic shop were gone. Her skin was now milky white and glowing instead of weathered. Her hair looked like spun silk. And the strength she felt—not just physically, but mentally—was the best high she’d ever had. Maybe the mirror was right: the nightmarish process was worth it.
At least that’s what she told herself as she started the whole process all over again. She hadn’t planned to give more of herself to the mirror so soon, but Katherine had become insufferable. All her free time now was spent with Snow White. The child didn’t need the care she had as a baby anymore, and yet Katherine still preferred her company to her sister’s.
“Come with us,” Katherine always said when Ingrid would complain they never spent time together anymore. “Play with your niece.” But Ingrid didn’t have time to play. She wanted to make real changes to the kingdom and the infrastructure therein. She wanted Georg to be more commanding and stop letting other kingdoms walk all over them. But Katherine had different interests—she was a queen of the people, spending her time listening to their concerns and making sure farming conditions throughout the countryside were ideal. Being raised by the farmer had made her primarily concerned with the kingdom’s agricultural trade rather than the things that mattered to Ingrid, like mining. There was so much more money to be made if Katherine opened more tunnels,