Chapter 30

R oderick was right. Lighthill was a much different village than Westfall. There was not the bustle of activity she had expected. Instead, there were only a few people out and about. Most of the shops were closed and boarded up. There were only a few street merchants. One sold fruits and vegetables. Another bread and pastries.

While those in Westfall had jovial smiles and boisterous laughter, the people of Lighthill were much more subdued. It was shortly after midday as they made their way through to the only tavern and inn with a dilapidated sign swaying in the faint breeze on creaking hinges. She glanced up at it, barely making out the faded letters that read The Painted Owl.

Roderick rode up to the inn and dismounted. "Wait here. I'll see if they can stable the horse."

"And if they can't?" she asked.

He looked thoughtful a long moment and glanced back out to the road, as though calculating the distance to the next village. "We will have to move on."

She hopped down from the saddle as he disappeared inside, uneasy with being left alone. Her hand landed on the hilt of the enchanted dagger. She glanced around the nearly deserted village, her heart breaking for these people who looked as though they had been worn down to the bone. Seraphina and her taxes must be taking a toll them.

"Yer a pretty thing."

The man's voice startled her. He approached, squinting at her in the waning afternoon sunlight. He had a scruff of beard on his cheeks and chin. His long hair was greasy and unkept. His clothes were worn, stained, and tattered.

"Where do ye hail from?" he asked.

Uncertainty flickered through her. How should she answer that question? If she told him she was from the castle, then he would resent her. Especially if he thought she was in league with the queen. If she told him she came from the Wyldwood Forest, he might think her mad.

"We traveled up from Westfall," she finally said.

"Westfall." He said it with contempt and then spat on the ground. "Nothing but troublemakers there."

Confusion flickered through her. Roderick said those in Westfall tried to help the other villages with an underground movement. Perhaps this man didn't realize that.

"Are ye here to steal from us, too?"

"Steal?" Shock rolled through her. "I don't understand."

"The way I see it, those from Westfall owe us ." He thumbed at his chest as he eyed her, looking for any valuable she might have on her person. His gaze paused a little too long on her pendant.

She clutched the dagger tighter, ready to draw it should he make any sudden movement.

"Let her be, Caleb," another man said. He lumbered up behind the scraggly man and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Find someone else to hassle."

Caleb grunted, shot her a scowl, and trudged off.

The second man was younger than Caleb, but with a pronounced limp as he favored his left leg. His dark hair was shaggy, hanging down to his shoulders with a fall across his forehead. He had bright, intelligent eyes as he peered at her with an apologetic smile.

"You'll have to forgive him. He's a curmudgeon and suspicious of everyone."

"Is he? Why did he ask if we were here to steal from you?" she asked.

"Because that's what he thinks about Westfall. He doesn't want to believe what he sees. Those villagers do nothing but try to help us. It's Queen Seraphina that steals from us. I'm William, the innkeeper's son."

Snow was not surprised to hear about Seraphina stealing from the villagers. Roderick had told her as much. She looked to the door in which Roderick had disappeared into, wondering if he was still in there.

"Do you seek food and shelter?" he asked.

"And a stable for our horse," she said.

"We can accommodate you," he said. "We don't see many visitors like you."

"Like me?"

"Rich folk," he added. One corner of his mouth lifted in a grin.

She liked him right away. He was kind and reminded her a bit of Ardan, which sent a pang of grief through her.

Roderick burst from the inn, his face red with fury as he charged toward her. William stumbled back out of his way as he stuck his foot in the stirrup and settled into the saddle.

"We're leaving," he said, his voice gruff. He reached a hand down to her to help her up.

"Leaving?" Snow asked, remaining in place. "But I thought—"

"Innkeeper said there's no place for people like us at the inn and no room in the stable," Roderick replied.

"My father said that?" William asked, incredulous.

Roderick gave him a death glare. "Who are you?"

"Ah, this is William," Snow cut in. "The innkeeper's son."

Roderick glanced from her to him and back again, question and confusion written all over his face.

"William said there was plenty of room in the stable for our horse." She pinned him with her gaze. "Didn't you?"

He nodded so hard, a lock of his mop of brown hair fell over his forehead. "Give me a moment to speak to my father." And then he scurried into the inn, his limp a little more noticeable as he tried to hurry.

Roderick clutched the reins tighter in his hands. "Let's go, Snow. That man doesn't want us here."

"We will wait," she said, her tone patient. When he gave her a quizzical look, she added, "You said yourself we needed allies."

He started to object when William came out of the inn, a look of triumph on his youthful face. "Follow me." He waved them after him.

Snow gave him a glance and then followed the boy. Roderick hesitated a moment before nudging his horse into a walk. William led them to a stable behind the inn where there were several open stalls and a few horses already boarded. Once they were in the stable, he dismounted and relinquished the reins to William. He led it into the first open stall.

"I'll make sure your horse is brushed and fed," William said.

"What did you say to convince him?" Roderick asked.

William's cheeks flushed dark red as he suddenly turned shy, peering down at his feet. "I told him you would pay in gold."

Roderick shot her a surprised look. Snow's brows rose to her hairline.

"You lied," she said. "I never told you that."

"You didn't," he agreed, still staring at his feet.

She lifted her head a little higher. "However, we can pay in gold."

His head shot up as he stared at her, his eyes wide and his face now drained of color. Roderick lifted one brow at her and tilted his head to one side.

"We can?" he asked.

"We can't pay you today," Snow added, never taking her gaze off the boy. "But I promise to pay you and lift the taxes off the village once I regain control of the kingdom."

William stared at her as though she'd lost her mind. And perhaps she had. She wasn't going to get anywhere with her continued denial of her true identity. She slipped the pendant off her neck and approached him. Roderick watched with interest, his gaze firmly pinned on her. She ignored him.

"This was a gift from my father," she said, showing William the pendant. "It is the sigil of the Mystic Vale."

William stared down at it in wonder. "The rose and the crown."

"Yes," Snow said. "My name is Snow White and I'm the rightful heir to the throne. Seraphina is a usurper. She doesn't belong in power. I mean to see her dethroned."

William dropped to one knee and his head bent. "Your majesty."

"Get up," she said on a sigh. "All we seek tonight is a place to stay and a warm meal."

"And you shall have it. The tavern is next to the inn. I'll take you there now."

William started out of the stable trying his best to hide the limp. Roderick shot her a look that told her he was impressed as they followed the boy out.

"How did you get that limp?" she asked.

"Oh…it's an old injury. Nothing to be concerned about, your majesty."

"You don't have to call me that," she said.

"But you are." He gave her a winsome glance over his shoulder. "Aren't you?"

"I am but…"

"She's not quite used to that yet," Roderick put in.

"How about I call you my lady?" William suggested.

"How about just Snow?" she countered.

He grinned again and nodded.