Fiction Friday! This was this weeks prompt; Write a short piece – 600 words max – that begins with the words, “This was absolutely the last time” and ends with “She was wrong.” I continued Queen Snow White’s story that started with Candy Apple Red, continued with Curses, and continued last week with Statis, those previous pieces were all prompted with deadly sins, I continued that trend here.
This was absolutely the last time, she whispered to herself. A frown turned down the corners of her once perfect mouth. Queen Snow White dug her nails into the frame of her doorway in a fruitless effort to stop herself from beckoning her guard into her chambers, or both, but even as the splinters worked their way under her once buffed nails, she knew that the battle was hopeless. It wasn’t the act of what she was about to do; it was the humiliation of not being able to stop it. She’d noticed that her guard had been changing nightly, in what she assumed was in an effort to spread out the impact of her rampant affections. The men who once would have done nearly anything to feel the sacred touch of their Queen’s hands now struggle to meet her eye and when they do, she sees revulsion and fear there. Fear, that a cursed Queen means cursed subjects. They are not wrong to fear, a visit from the Wiccan Wise made clear the depth of her debt, the chances of her survival. Still, she cannot bring herself to think of her mother, the act, the origin of this all.
She now stands in the doorway arms akimbo, palms flat against the door frame with tiny rivulets of blood trickling next to blue veins so clear in skin so white. Her black hair is brushed and styled again but it remains dull and brittle from her weeks of lying in bed, barely being kept alive on water and broth. Though she is no longer bloated as she was after her binging and purging, the muscles of her body lack tone and her once flat, taut stomach now jiggles when she moves. Her lips remain red and her cobalt blue eyes shine still, but they shine not with beauty or youth, though she should still possess both, but with the knowledge of the blighted.
Deciding that the struggle against the inevitable is worse than what she must do, she flings the doors open to her chamber and strides out. Both of her guards continue to look straight ahead, betraying nothing, though they too must be rolling with emotion. She places her hand on the shoulder of the one standing to her left and without a word turns and strides back into her chamber fully confident that he will follow. Once inside, he closes the doors behind him, turns and awaits instruction. Queen Snow White says nothing as she falls to her knees, the midnight blue velvet of her gown spreading around her into a puddle darker than blood. This is absolutely the last time; she can’t help herself from thinking like a plea as she undoes his trouser fastenings. He fills her mouth and her insatiable lust and she knows that she is wrong.