Snow White and the Seven Souls

Mr. Tredwell was a good man at heart. He was happy to have pleasant discourse with anyone he met, and just as happy to roam the woods alone. He was quick to smile and slow to anger.

But when he got angry, he could be a fearsome enemy.

Mr. Tredwell was angry now. A darkness had fallen over Elkendor and it was spreading. News of the disappearances had broken, and the Queen had been informed of the culprit. The King, however, remained oblivious to Snow’s involvement. Kara had attempted on more than one occasion to tell him about what the huntsman had seen, but Flynn would hear none of it. He dismissed her concerns as jealous imaginings, and told her that envy was unbecoming.

And so the Queen had to find a new strategy to rid the kingdom of vampiric evil. She summoned Snow White to her chambers one sunny morning. There were plenty of guards nearby to protect Kara, but not so close as to be obvious. The huntsman was much closer, waiting on the balcony.

“Snow, my dear.” The Queen said, greeting her stepdaughter with a kiss on the cheek. “It has been far too long since we’ve spent any time together. Have you been keeping well?” She indicated to the Princess that they should sit at the round table on the balcony. Mr. Tredwell did not sit, but stood off to one side.

“This is Mr. Tredwell. I’m sure you have met,” the Queen said.

“Yes, many times. You have served us well since I was a child. It is good to see you,” Snow said cordially. She thought it odd that he was here, but since he was an old friend and an attractive man as well, she did not begrudge his presence.

Mr. Tredwell tried to remember how he used to feel about Snow, before she turned and brought death upon the kingdom. He summoned up those feelings now so that he could give her a warm smile in return. “And you, Your Highness,” he replied.

The Queen let her two guests look upon one another for a moment before calling attention back to herself. “Snow, I realize that your father’s protectiveness has caused you to be cooped up in this palace for far too long. In order to bloom, a flower needs fresh air, does she not?”

“Indeed, it has been ages since I have been able to roam the hills and towns freely,” Snow said.

“Yes. And I do not believe that being shut away from the world is healthy for a young woman. It has taken me weeks of work to convince the King to let you go out again, but I have done it. Almost. We have come to a compromise, anyway. You may go into the woods with Mr. Tredwell here as your escort. Go to the Emerald Hollow and bring back one of the Elswyr flowers that grows there. Do this, return home safely with the flower, and then perhaps your father will consider easing the restrictions on you.”

Snow glanced at the huntsman, who nodded at her. “It is a proposition I can hardly refuse,” she said. “When shall we go?”

“We can leave as soon as Your Highness wishes. Though may I suggest that today the weather is fair and there remain enough hours of daylight to reach the Hollow and return by nightfall. It would seem that the time to depart is now.”

Snow blinked at this remark. While the huntsman was a familiar person, and though she had longed to walk the forested hills of Elkendor, it seemed too good to be true. But the Princess knew that she could handle herself now. She was hardly unarmed.

“Yes, it does seem to be the perfect opportunity. I suppose there is no time to waste. Allow me to change my clothes, and we shall depart. Thank-you, Kara. You have shown yourself to be kind and thoughtful. What more could I ask for?”

“It was nothing, my dear. I shall see you when evening comes, with a beautiful flower in your hand, I have no doubt.”

Snow left her stepmother’s chambers and went to her own. There she scribbled a quick note before changing into something more suited for a long walk. The note said: “Coming to join you.” She left it on her dresser.

Snow and the huntsman met up at the north gate of the palace, where they strode off at a chipper pace down the hill and into the woods.

Despite the sunniness of the day, the world under the canopy of trees was dimmer and cooler. Snow reveled in the fresh scent of the greenery, the chirping of the birds, the babbling of the brooks. It seemed to her that her old self was somewhere in these woods, too.

She remained wary of the huntsman’s proximity, and questioned his motivation. Despite the ever-present emptiness that gnawed at her, that urged her to feed, Snow did not want to harm him. Somehow, that would be a bridge too far. Certainly it would call the attention of her stepmother. But it was not only that. Snow had always thought that Mr. Tredwell was set apart, special. Irreplaceable. And though in her distorted way she knew that she could preserve what would eventually pass from this world, she did not want to change the huntsman like that. She liked him too much.