The Snow Princess
The single word echoed around the throne room. The queen looked up, into the shadows by the door.
“Who’s there?” she called, her tone cold and authoritative.
A figure stepped into the light and the queen raised an eyebrow.
It was a child. She had short black hair with white streaks around dark skin, with light blue, almost white eyes, and all she wore was a threadbare dress and a pair of tattered shoes. There was a red rose tucked behind her ear.
“Mother,” said the robber girl softly.
“Anna. It’s been… a while. Should I assume you were the one that brought the girl?”
She gave a little nod.
The queen tilted her head to the side. “May I ask why?”
“Because we both know that boy wasn’t your heir. I am your daughter, the throne is my birth right.”
“The Snow Throne doesn’t go down the blood line, and you failed the test. You know that it’s not yours.”
“Yes it is!” The girl began to walk towards her mother. “I know you don’t want me, you didn’t even want me to know about you!” The queen said nothing, just stared blankly as Anna got angrier. “But I’m still your daughter, even if I am just a mistake!”
“Yes.” The word was soft, but it stopped the girl in her tracks. “You are. You are just the consequence of a… regrettable, if enjoyable, incident. The personification of a mistake.”
“You…” the girl said, her eyes glistening. “You’re a monster.”
“And you,” the woman replied, “are nothing.”
“I wish you were dead!” she spat, striding forward again, anger in every step. “And maybe I should kill you myself!”
There was a crack under her feet, and she halted, glancing down at the word written out in ice beneath her.
The girl looked up, shocked. “You… said he wasn’t your heir.”
“He wasn’t.” The queen spoke in a cold, emotionless voice. “It was that girl you helped get here. Gerda.” Finally the woman began to walk down the ice steps by her feet. “She is the Snow Princess.”
The child paled. “It’s… not possible.”
“Rather poetic really.” The queen glided forward over the ice. “She didn’t even mean to.” She halted just a foot or so from her daughter.
The word stood between them.
“I followed her every step of the way…” the girl breathed. “That bitch wouldn’t have reached the end of her street without me.”
“Then I suppose I should thank you,” said the queen, looming over her daughter. “You brought me my heir.” She reached out a pale hand and gently took the girl’s chin, tilting her face up. “So, little Anna, you can kill me if you want, but it won’t make any difference. The Snow Throne will never be yours.”
“We’ll see about that. But if I were you, or that girl, I’d be watching your back. Like mother, like daughter.”
Submitted by: Madeleine Proom