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

Six Months and Three Days Ago

Six months and three days ago:

I fastened the threadbare brown shawl around my shoulders and tugged the hood over my hair, which I had put up in a low bun. I inked some dark spots and blemishes onto my face already painted with a thin chestnut pulp, then I smudged my lips with ashy paste so that it would lose its bright cherry colour. At last I used glue and dough to change the shape of my face-- a larger nose, a longer chin, a wider mouth, slanted eyes. I regarded myself in the mirror. 

Hideous, I thought, smiling, satisfied that no one would recognise me in the fading evening light.

I gathered the assortment of garments on my bed, including the bodice lace, into a ragged cloth sack. 

I rode one of the palace mares most of the way into the forest, but when I neared I left her tethered to a tree and walked the rest. Consulting the mirror, I followed its directions while sidestepping mud puddles in disdain. After the ten-minute hike that left me breathless, the little wooden hut appeared in my sight past the tree line.

I hunched my back and hobbled forward, bending my knees a little to make myself seem shorter. When I reached the hut, I rapped sharply on the door. 

"Beautiful wares for sale!" I rasped.

Snow White-- oh, my dear daughter-- opened the door, and I saw recognition buzz across her charming features, and my heart nearly stopped, I was so sure my plan was about to crumble into disaster. 

"Mom?" She gasped, unbelieving. Then she saw my tattered outfit and the speckles across my face. "Sorry, I-I..." She rubbed her face, like she was trying to rub away a headache. "I mistook you for someone else. Sorry."

"It's fine, don't worry about it. Would you like to buy some bodice laces?"

"Um..." 

I saw the hesitation on her face, and intercepted her. "Please, kind soul, I am asking for a mere three silver coins. Today is my little boy's birthday, he's only six years old and he's caught a deadly flu and I--"

"I'll buy one, I'll buy one," She said hastily, with compassion in her eyes. My heart clenched. I knew my daughter so well, I knew that she was the kindest soul. Although she had possessed moments when the demon inside her escaped and ran savage, usually she couldn't bear it if anyone and anything, down to the most inconsequential caterpillar, got hurt. And I was using her kindness to trick her. 

My own daughter...

It's for the best, I reminded myself. It's not like I have a choice.

So I took out the bodice lace I prepared for her. "How lovely you look," I drawled, disgusted at myself. "Here, let me lace you up properly."

She turned around, exposing her back. I wrapped the strands around my fingers for leverage, and I pulled until it was tight. And then I kept going.

"Stop!" She gasped, and then she yelled. "Stop! Help!"

I ignored her, tears running down my cheeks and smearing the makeup that hid my fair skin, and I kept pulling tighter and tighter and tighter. Almost there, I told myself, drowning out her pleads. Just a little bit more...

With a jolt I realised she had stopped breathing. I yelped, letting go, but the lace had tangled and I couldn't get it free. I tugged on the strands, trying to unlace them, but nothing could get it free and I could hear my daughter fading away and away by the second. At last I yanked the dagger out of its sheath and slice open the ribbon. Without the support, she collapsed. 

My heart stopped as I immediately dropped onto my knees, horrified at what I had done. "Oh no, oh no, Snow White, don't do this to me..." I ran my hand over her, checking for a pulse. Then I heard her wheezing. 

She's fine, I let out a breath of relief. She's fine.

I didn't kill her. Yet.

And I should probably go before she wakes up.