Evermore: Snow Falls

  ~*~

  Snow crept out of the room, a sick feeling growing deep in her stomach, again. Instantly Theodore was on his feet.

  “Princess! Are you ill?” He asked in great concern, wrapping his arm around the young princess.

  Numbly she shook her head and swallowed hard against the rising vomit. There was no way to describe the horror of what had transpired in that room, she had no idea exactly what she had witnessed. But the feeling of panic and horror enveloped her each time she thought about it. She banished it from her mind out of necessity, some things are too horrible to ever think on again. She hugged him back tightly.

  “I think I will wait until she leaves with the army.” Snow mumbled, her tongue feeling thick and alien in her mouth.

  Theodore, very unhappily took her to wait by the main hallway. They didn’t have to wait long. Within minutes the army had been assembled and they began their march towards the great castle doors. Snow realised, that from that moment on, she would always hate the sound of marching. The sound of military boots striking the hard stone floors in unison, echoing off the high ceilings of Castle White, that sound would always remind her of this very day. And this was a day to that should be forgotten...if she lived through it. Snow watched as they made their brave way down the hall, a piece of her heart breaking with every step.

  Rosalyn, clad from head to toe in black leather, stopped suddenly as she noticed Snow clinging to the door frame, silent in her fear, her dark eyes brimming with tears. Spinning on her heel she strode over to the terrified child, and took both of Snow’s hands in her own. Snow looked up at her cautiously, rumor predicted the castle would fall within the day, she had a pretty good idea what the rebels would do to them when it fell, and they were found.

  “I will not let your father’s kingdom fall. Trust in that.” Rosalyn whispered. “They will not breach these walls. They will touch neither yourself nor your father.”

  Snow saw fear, not quite concealed behind the queen’s mask of calm confidence.

  “But where are you going?” Snow whispered back, a chill creeping up her spine as she took in her stepmother’s black leather outfit, a long, black sword was strapped to her side, her luxurious, mane of black hair pulled severely back from her face. Skin tight, the black leather made her beautiful stepmother look cruel...and evil.

  “To battle.” Rosalyn had whispered back, hugging her stepdaughter close to her fiercely

  “Aren’t you afraid?” Snow couldn’t help but ask as she hugged her stepmother back equally fiercely.

  “I’m terrified.” The queen had answered.

  “Promise me you will come back.” Snow whispered.

  “I promise.” Rosalyn whispered back, she kissed Snow softly on the forehead, and then she let go and rejoined the army.

  Snow watched as they marched resolutely through the castle, the sound of their boots striking the stone floor in unison, soldiers, soldiers and more soldiers...all wearing the grim face of battle, all ready to die for her protection, for their country, with her beautiful, terrified stepmother at the head.

  That had been the last time Snow could remember seeing the Rosalyn she knew looking back at her from those dark eyes.

  Something happened during the course of that war. Everyone knew it, but no one spoke of it. Something happened that changed the young queen, where a scared but determined young woman led thousands of brave soldiers to battle against all odds, a dark and powerful Warrior Queen led them home in victory. But that queen wasn’t Rosalyn, at least not the Rosalyn Snow knew and loved.

  Queen Rosalyn of Rylak had led them to victory in a matter of days, and it was a bloody, messy, violent victory, that played itself out right outside the city gates. True to her word, not one rebel made it through those gates and in to the capital city, not alive that was, except for the few that Rosalyn herself dragged through. Rosalyn had captured several of the rebellion’s leaders and beheaded them publicly in Lyra’s town square. It was said that she laughed as each head, sightless eyes wide with fear, rolled across the ground towards her feet. The bodies were burned in a fire right there in the square, the heads she kept for herself.

  She had made an example that would never be forgotten. No one dared question the House of White’s right to rule again.