Fairest of All (Villains 1)

“And you have yours,” Ruby finished.

“What do you want?” the Queen asked bitterly.

“The question is—” Martha asked.

“What do you want?” Lucinda finished.

“I think you already know the answer, dears,” the Queen said.

The sisters began speaking, picking up one another’s sentences.

“The power is yours, Majesty—the answers you seek are in—the volumes we left here long ago—tomes on the Black Arts—poisons and potions—disguises. If you know where they reside—you will have your answer—after all—you come from a long line of witches—the power is not only in those books—it is in your blood—as it was in—your mother’s.’”

“Liars!” the Queen said, hurling a delicate vase at the sisters.

“Oh dear me,” Lucinda said.

“You’ve developed a temper,” Martha finished.

“That could come in handy in your current circumstance,” Lucinda said.

“See, there is an easier way to reclaim your post as fairest,” Ruby continued.

“And what would that be?” the Queen asked skeptically.

“Kill the girl,” the sisters said in tandem and broke into their sickly cackle.

“Kill Snow White? You are mad!” the Queen said. But part of her had already been contemplating the same fate for the girl.

The sisters continued their sniggering. “Madness is in the mind of the beholder, Queen.

“It is the only way. She must die either by your hand or someone else’s. Wouldn’t you want to be the apple of your father’s eye again? Do you not want to hear the Slave tell you that you are fairest?”

“Of course, but—”

“Your Uncle Marcus’s friend, the Huntsman. Order him—” Lucinda said.

“To do the deed,” Ruby finished. “Your husband—”

“Will be avenged of his daughter’s rebuking his memory for happiness with that other royal man, and you will again have your rightful—”

“Place as fairest in the lands.”

“And best of all, her blood won’t be on your hands.”

The sisters broke into a cackle again.

The Queen shook her head. It might have looked as though she were disagreeing with the sisters, but in truth, she was fighting the urge within herself to submit to their suggestion.

“It seems as if you need—” Lucinda said.

“A bit of help,” Ruby finished.

Martha opened her pouch and produced an empty teacup.

Lucinda said, “Metal and ore, goodness no more.”

She bent down and spat into the cup.