Not the Villain - The Evil Queen's Retelling of Snow White

16 Years, Seven Months and 12 Days Ago

16 years, seven months and 12 days ago:

I was chasing Snow White barefoot through the damp grass, our giggles floated away on the wind. I was reminded of the garden of the estate I lived in all through my childhood, how Mother, Emerald and I would chase each other in the grass, when Emerald was only three or four. How we would run with the bees buzzing around us, the clouds levitated over our heads like giant halos, how our identical raven hair would fly behind all three of us. 

I gasped, and for one painful moment my heart froze.

I can't be doing this. I let myself forget, I let myself disregard the fact that she was a demon, the fact that I cannot, I must not love this child. I went too far, and now it's too late to go back. Love was something that, once anchored into your heart, can never be removed. That was what all the years crying for my mother, my sister, and Casimir had taught me. And now I let myself love Snow White.

I knew I would pay for it someday.

"We have to go," I told her, and she looked up with her confused, green eyes. I cursed Evelyn inwardly.

"Come on," I said, my tone growing cold, as I grabbed her tiny hand and dragged her forcefully back into the palace. She was bewildered by my sudden change of attitude, digging her heels in, still wanting to play with me, me who she thought as a mother.

Once inside I picked her up and dropped her unceremoniously into the arms of the nearest maid, and I stalked up towards my room where I had work to be done, I was the woman behind Casimir's rule of the kingdom after all. Strangely, my own tears burned me, leaving trails of fire down my cheeks as I tried my best to ignore those large, emerald eyes that were stabbing into my mind, my heart.

15 years ago:

"Casimir," I murmured outside his study, with the tenderest voice I could muster. 

"Come in," He replied, and I thought I heard him suppress a sigh, but I forced myself to believe otherwise. I entered the room, and saw him slumped at his desk, his head bowed as he wrote furiously. Paperwork again.

"Loosen up a little," I breathed in his ear, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Do you have any plans tonight?"

He mumbled incoherently, so focused on whatever letter he was writing that I had to repeat my question.

"No, besides finishing up the paperwork. Why?"

"I was thinking maybe we could take some time off, just you and me. I think a break is long overdue for both of us."

"Tonight?"

"If you can spare the time..."

"If it makes you happy, then I'm sure I can free up some time, Amethyst. But why tonight, may I ask? It's rather random, and out of nowhere."

"I knew it." I whispered, but there was no triumph in my voice, only a hollowness. "You forgot, exactly like the three years before this."

"What?"

"Casimir, it's our anniversary." I felt the strong urge to cry, but I found that I had no tears left, they had all dried up. I expected this. "Just tell me this, Casimir. Why do you always remember you and Evelyn's anniversary, but not ours?" I knew the answer, of course. He loved her, he still loves her, and not me. I wasn't sure when I realised this, but I guess this cold, hard fact creeped up on me sometime in the years.

He didn't have a reply, of course he didn't. I searched his blank eyes, willing the fire I remembered from nearly a decade ago to reappear. But they didn't so I only sighed and said, "I change my mind, I think I'll catch up on work tonight instead."