Red as Blood || A Snow White Retelling

Chapter One - The Death of a King

I believe the happiest moment of my life was the one I thought would be the saddest.

My wedding day.

I never wanted to be married to a king, never wanted to be a queen. I was plucked from my home beside the warm, salty seas because I had something everyone else in my village didn't.

A desirable face.

I was brought to the cold kingdom I would end up calling home. Dozens of other girls sat with me, some eager to meet the newly widowed King, others crying like babies. But one by one, we all left the waiting room, our borrowed silk dresses whispering softly across the floor. When it was my turn, I could've sworn they sang a song of doom for me instead of hope.

But once I met Frewin, all my worries had washed away. He was younger than I expected, still dressed in mourning, and quickly told me how this hadn't been his idea. It was a tradition, he explained, that every king is only as strong as his queen. The people in his kingdom believed that women were just as strong, if not stronger, than men and a king without a queen by his side would likely lead them to ruin. It was such a stark contrast to the way I had grown up, were women were merely wives, mothers, and the occasional small business owner.

Frewin was kind, and gently. Soft spoken and forgiving, I couldn't imagine why he would need a queen. But as the weeks went on, and our irregular meetings became regular, I grew to like him. He understood my homesickness, he helped me send a letter to one of my only friends. He listened to me talk about my home, and how I missed the warmth there.

And while we remained nothing but close companions, he showered me with gifts. My favorite being a small glowing stone that shone like the sun and was always warm to the touch. I have, and always will keep it close to my heart.

"It's a Heartstone." He had explained. "It will always warm your hands, until you loose your way."

I suppose it was then that I knew that I loved him, but I never knew what he meant by that, and never asked. Not when he asked me to marry him and stay by his side, not on our wedding night when we stayed up until dawn simply talking.

Not even on his death bed.

"You should rest, darling." Frewin said softly, skin pale and hotter that my stone as I pressed a cool rag softly on his forehead. "You've been with me all day."

"And I will be with you all night." I told him with a smile.

"You're a queen." He muttered weakly, grimacing in pain. "This is beneath you."

"I was a commoner before you made me a queen. Stop talking and rest."

A smile curled up the ends of his pale, chapped lips as he looked up at me with feverish blue eyes. "When did you become so bossy?"

"Since you decided to fall ill." I mirrored his smile, if only to hide my worry. He was too young to be this sick. This past week I swore he aged before my eyes and no one could understand what was making him so ill.

No one could save him.

His chest rose and fell heavily, like he was fighting for breath. He wheezed every time he struggled to bring air into his lungs, and with every breath I feared it would be his last.

A sharp, urgent knock sounded on the door, and I hesitated leaving Frewin's side.

"Darling, the door." He muttered.

"Of course," I smiled, drying my hands on my dressing gown before hurrying over to the heavy oak door. A tall, gangly boy with a ruddy hair peaked through the crack, green eyes widening as he saw me.