Chapter 2

Regina

F rozen in place, I sit and wait. I wait until she's long gone before I move. Slowly, I make my way off the bed and creep across the room.

As my hand grips the handle of the door, her words echo in my head. She told me I needed to eat. Why did she care if I ate?

I've met the girl once, at that awful dinner where my parents signed my life away as if I was nothing more to them than a bargaining tool. It's not that I was a fool and thought my parents adored me, I've known from a young age that they didn't. They were disappointed that I wasn't the boy they wanted. But my mother was at least kind to me. She did a fairly good job of taking care of me, feeding me, cleaning me, and protecting me.

But not that night, not when my father saw dollar signs and a way to gain more power. He signed me away to the King so fast they were gone before the ink dried.

After I pleaded with them not to do this, they told me to stop being selfish and that this was the life any girl would dream of.

Are they fucking mad? Who the hell would want a life like this?

The King is nothing but a monster. I learned that my first night here when he pulled me into his office and told me what my new life was to become.

That I was to be queen in name only. I had no power, no say. And if I tried to go against his wishes, he'd be sure to shut it down and shut me up. I was to be seen and not heard. To be at his side when needed and to be hidden away for the rest of the time. Outside of that, he said he had no interest in me... yet. But the leering look he gave me told me that wouldn't last. I'm not stupid, I know a man like him probably has dozens of women he fucks. Good, as long as I'm not one of them, I don't care.

I'd rather die than let that man put his hands on me, and I'd chop off his dick if he tried to put it inside of me.

How is this a life? I've lost any freedom I had. While he did say I could explore the palace, I wasn't allowed to leave the grounds. I'm trapped behind these massive stone walls.

The room he gave me was fit for a queen. The bed was big and comfortable and a fridge stocked with food and drinks. One of the doors leads to an attached bathroom with a tub that looks like it would be perfect for soaking.

I have a TV with hundreds of movies and TV shows, as well as shelves filled with books. It would take a lot for a person to be bored.

But I'm not just any person. I love the outdoors. I've always been someone who enjoys hiking, fishing, and camping. I'd always go out with my cousins and then come home dirty.

My parents didn't mind much while I was growing up. I was out of their way, so they didn't have to deal with me.

Then I became a woman, and all of a sudden, it wasn't proper or lady-like behavior. I was forced to stay clean, dress in nice clothes, and attend boring parties with people who only cared about themselves in hopes of finding me a suitor.

Little did I know I'd end up married to the King.

Opening the door slowly, I peek around, seeing if Snow is still there. She wasn't, no one is, the halls are empty.

My gaze flicks down to a brown paper bag at my feet. Brows furrowing, I pick it up and close the door behind me.

Opening the bag, the smell hits me right away. Hamburger and fries. I groan, excitement filling me as I rush to climb onto my bed and dig into the bag.

I pull everything out, and my mouth waters. I am starving, my belly grumbling as if to point out that fact to me. "Yeah, yeah," I mutter, moaning again as I lift the burger up and take a bite.

Flavor explodes on my tongue as I eagerly take another bite. Chewing, I swallow, then grab a handful of fries.

The food is a little cold, but I don't care. Before coming here, my parents would nitpick everything I ate and had me on a diet. I had to make sure I was skinny because, in my father's words, ‘no man wants a fat woman'.

Fucking asshole. Size shouldn't matter. Women are beautiful no matter their size. But sadly, a lot of men in our social circle are vain, chauvinistic assholes.

The urge to tell my father I didn't care what any man thought of me because I wasn't interested in men period was strong.

I didn't dare because he would have lost his mind. In his mind, being a woman was not as horrific as being a lesbian woman.

My whole life is a lie. A lie I will die on. How sad is that?

Taking the last bite, I feel a little sad.

The food they serve here is fancy shit that doesn't taste very good or is all healthy. I haven't had takeout in years since I was a kid.

Grabbing the garbage, I crumple it in my hand and look at it. She said to hide it, that if it was found she would be in trouble. I don't like the idea of her getting in trouble for doing something nice for me.

Why did she do this for me in the first place? Why does she care?

From what I've seen, she's a quiet girl, one of few words. She seems kind, but I have yet to have a conversation with her.

I should change that, right? I mean, I am her new stepmother, after all. My face scrunches up in disgust at the idea. How the hell do I have a stepdaughter who is, what, maybe five or six years younger than me? I'm twenty-five. She had to be no older than nineteen, twenty.

My eyes flick over to the door. Should I go find her and thank her? Looking out the window, I decide against it. It's got to be late.

Tucking the garbage under my mattress, I plan to get rid of it in the morning and properly thank Snow for her act of kindness.

I could have eaten tonight, there were tables and tables filled with food. But knowing I just signed my life away, I didn't have the stomach for it.

I should have run away like I thought about doing. Only, I didn't have any money, everything I did have was my father's. Would sleeping on the streets be better or worse than how I'm living now?

God, I sound so selfish. Here I am, stepping into this luxurious bathroom, about to take a nice long hot soak in the tub, while there are people in nearby towns going hungry, homeless, and unable to afford to live.

Feeling like an asshole, I shut my pity party down and take my bath.

I've been submerged long enough for the water to turn cold, and my fingers and toes turn wrinkly; it's only then do I get out. Slipping into sleepwear, I crawl into bed.

Closing my eyes, my mind wanders to the beautiful girl with snow-white skin and raven-black hair. The girl who seems to be nothing like her father, the girl I find myself wanting to get to know better.

Maybe I'm not alone after all; maybe I can find some kind of light in this dark pit I've found myself sinking into.

THE NEXT MORNING, I'M a mess. And I have no idea why. I go downstairs, needing something to do, and have the chef make me something to eat. It's bland and healthy. I hate every bite but eat it anyway.

When I finally get the nerve to go to Snow's room and knock on the door, she isn't there. Disappointment fills me, and I start to feel depressed again.

It's still early in the day, what am I to do with my time? Getting through the past week of living here has been hard. There are only so many books I can read and so much TV I can watch. I want to talk to someone, another human.

I want to talk to Snow.

Back home, I might have had a short list of things I could and couldn't do, but at least I had my friends. They put up with the lunches, or came over to hang out in our backyard because they just wanted to see me, to spend time with me.

And now I'm alone. No one here tries to talk to me; they do their job without making eye contact and move on. It's fucking depressing and lonely.

With the garbage tucked into my coat pocket, I head outside to the garden, unable to spend any more time inside.

There's something about being outside that makes everything better. The garden is truly stunning, flowing with greenery and flowers.

I notice a maze and decide I have time to get lost for a while.

Stepping inside, I smile as I run my hands along the deep green maze walls. With a laugh that bubbles up within me, I take off running.

My heart pounds with every step; the feeling is exhilarating.

I don't let dead ends stop me; I turn around and run the other way. I go and go for what feels like hours, but time passes in the blink of an eye before I reach the middle of the garden.

I stumble to a stop, allowing myself to catch my breath when I notice someone.

There's a tree, a massive apple tree, towering over most of the available space. Under it, there are stone benches. And sitting on top of one of those benches is Snow.

Taking a moment, I watch her as she laughs. A laugh that makes my belly twist unfamiliarly. Squinting my eyes, I see why, and my brows jump.

A squirrel runs up her arm, along her shoulders, and down the other, snatching something from her hand before running over to the tree.

The smile on Snow's face makes my already-pounding heart speed up.

"There's enough for everyone. No need to grab it from me so rudely." She laughs, her voice soft and sweet.

I watch as she takes a knife and cuts a slice of apple before holding it out again. Another squirrel rushes over, climbing up onto the bench. But unlike his little friend, he seems to take it a lot more gently.

"That's better." She smiles, then turns to look at me. I freeze like a deer caught in the headlights. "You know, you're more than welcome to come join me."

I can't help but laugh as I nod my head, straightening up from where I was bent over, catching my breath.

"Thanks," I tell her when she slides over a bit to give me room.

She's dressed in a white coat that makes her raven hair pop and her blue eyes shine. Under that is a blood-red dress, much like the color of the apple in her hand.

"Want one?" she asks me, grabbing a whole one from her coat. "There may be a million in that tree, but I'm too short to reach them. Had to climb the tree to get these few. It wasn't easy."

"You climbed a tree?" I ask, sounding more surprised than I should have been.

Her lip twitches. "Yes. Why do you look so surprised?" Busted.

"I mean, you're a Princess; I didn't think you would be willing to... get your hands dirty," I say carefully. "Or that coat."

"I could care less about my hands or any other body part of mine. But you would be correct about the coat. I took it off before climbing. The dress can be easily replaced, the coat can not."

"How come?"

She gives me a sad smile before looking away and up at the tree. "It was my mother's. It still smells like her. Sometimes, when I'm sad and missing her, I'll snuggle up in it and just be." She looks back at me. "Are you going to take it?"

I'm confused for a moment, lips parted to ask what she means when I realize she's still holding the apple out to me. "Shit, sorry." I laugh, taking it from her. "Thanks."

She laughs, and I look at her with a raised brow. "Sorry," she says. "I'm not used to that kind of language. Around here, it's not lady-like."

"You think shit is a bad word?"

"No." She shakes her head. "But my father does. To him, those kinds of words are considered a heathen's language." She rolls her eyes. "As if I haven't heard him shouting much worse words in his bouts of anger. Hypocritical, if you ask me."

"Huh." I nod. "Yeah, I'd say so."

"You don't like him, do you?" she asks, bringing an apple up to her lips. I watch as she takes a bite, my eyes fixated on her lips.

"Who?" I manage to pull my eyes away so I don't look like a creep.

"My father."

"Oh." I blink a few times. "Of course I do. He's..."

"He's horrible." She laughs. "It's okay, you don't have to lie to me."

"You don't like him?"

"Oh, heavens no." She shakes her head. "I despise that man."

"Is he that bad?"

She scowls, and it's not a look I like to see on her. "He's a monster. My mother ruled this land with dignity and respect. She cared about her people above all else. Since her passing, my father has destroyed everything she built. The people of the village are starting to go poor and hungry, while the palace is filled with gluttony. He cares for no one but himself, his power, and money."

"I thought as much," I sigh, taking a bite of my own apple. It's sweet and juicy. "Damn, this is good."

"Right?" she laughs. "I love them. They are my favorite snacks. I love anything made with apples, but these are the best around. The only thing I really like about the palace. My mama used to bake all kinds of goodies with them. She would let Mrs. Bark come and pick as many as she could to use them in her bakery." She smiles wide. "That's where I got our dinner from last night. Her husband runs the pub attached to the bakery."

"It was amazing food. Thank you. You didn't have to bring me anything."

"I know." She shrugs. "But I wanted to. I didn't like the idea of you going hungry."

"Why not?" I ask, needing to know why she cares so much about someone she doesn't know.

"Because you don't deserve the hand you've been dealt. Just like me. We're not so different when you think about it. We're both people from money, with a parent who uses us for their own gain. We have no say over what happens in our lives."

I just stare at her as she looks away, taking another bite of the apple. This time, a bead of juice drips down her chin, and without thinking, I reach forward and brush it off. It's subtle, but I can hear her sudden intake of breath.

Her eyes flick over to mine, shining bright. There shouldn't be a warm feeling growing inside me, yet there is. The longer we're locked in this moment, the greater it becomes.

Bringing my thumb to my mouth, I suck the sweetness off. Her pupils grow, and so does the tiny bit of hope within me.

"I think you're right," I whisper. "And no, I don't like your father. I didn't want to marry him. Like you said, I didn't have a choice. Now, I'm trapped, and I feel like my life is ending." It's an odd feeling to admit that out loud, but I know deep inside I can trust Snow.

"Your life isn't ending. I refuse to believe that," she whispers back. "As long as I'm here, you have me. This place can grow awfully lonely. But... maybe we can help each other out."

"Yeah, how so?" I ask, clearing my throat as I lean back.

"I don't have any friends." She looks away. "But I'd love one."

My heart breaks for this sweet, beautiful girl. "Then you have one."

She looks back to me, her sad face morphing into a smile. "I'd love that."

In this moment, I vow to do my best to see her smile more, to hear her laugh. And if I'm the reason for it, all the better.