Into the Villain's Mirror

Chapter 10 - Undercurrents of Nobility

Shimmering candlelight caught the threads of her gown, unfolding around Lucy like a finely woven trail of glittering scales, as if she herself were a creature of legend, bound to serenade men to their graves, enticing them with her otherworldly beauty. Cold metal curled around her neck and wrists, necklaces and bracelets precious enough to fit a Queen's station and heavy enough to never let anyone forget their presence. Lucy was a vision of gold and glamor, shining like the crown jewel in a hoard of treasure.

And on the other end of the wide hall was Snow White, descending a spiraling staircase, the epitome of innocence and demure beauty. Her black hair was allowed to flow freely, decorated not with precious stones but small flowers, delicate and pure in their appearance. Her gown was light and unadorned but couldn't detract from her figure or beauty, instead enhancing the fact that Snow White didn't need anything to be perfect. No expensive fabric, no eye-catching colors or complicated designs - simply herself.

If Lucy was a piece of dead and dusted gold, then Snow White was the freshness of spring, a gentle nature nymph to contrast Lucy's deadly and sinful siren.

Lucy unfurled her fan, glittering and obnoxiously eye-catching as the rest of her costume, with a harsh flick, using it to hide the lower part of her face. But her lips weren't pulled down in a frown - Lucy allowed herself one, small smile.

A spring nymph would only drown in the cruel torrents of this deep-sea palace.

It had been almost two weeks since Snow White's return to the castle and many things had changed during that time.

When Snow White first woke up, bedded in luxurious down-feather blankets and surrounded by watchful nurses and servants, the girl had panicked. She had screamed to let her go, had cried and said that the Queen wanted her heart and her life, that she would be dead if no-one helped her escape.

But her doting and desperate father wasn't here. There was no king to listen to her claims, only the queen she accused reigning supreme within the castle. And as Snow White could procure no evidence apart from the words of her abductor, it was easy to pass the blame.

When Lucy had first gone to see the awakened girl, she had sat at Snow White's bedside, cradling a cup of morning tea between her fingers. The royal physician hovered behind a screen, in case the princess' panic worsened and her frail constitution endangered her, while the king's advisors were waiting in front of the closed doors, not allowed to see the princess in such a stage of distress but certainly allowed to hear her accusations.

Lucy had invited them to.

Rumors festering in the dark were always much harder to weed out when no-one dragged them into the light and let the merciless heat wither them instead.

And so Lucy never protested Snow White's accusations, only sighed as if her heart hurt and asked why the girl would think so ill of her, when she loved her like her own daughter, grieving her disappearance to this day as if a part of her heart had been missing.

"Stop, just stop!" Snow White's eyes were wide while she stared at Lucy, polished obsidians set in white ivory, the contrast stunning. "You're a liar!"

Lucy allowed the steam of her herbal tea to obstruct her view, still not quite used to seeing Snow White, in the flesh, living and speaking and breathing, right in front of her. A figment of a tale with pumping blood and livid eyes. The figment that was opposite her own figure, the opponent's chess piece, the one that in another time would have spelled her ruin and death.

And now they were sitting together in luxurious chambers dripping with crystals and tapestries, conversing while the refreshing scent of mint spread through the air.