“Hair as black as ebony, lips as red as blood, skin as white as snow”
Scarlet blood dripping from ruby red lips, eyes black as coal, fangs bared in her lovely creme face, Snow-White took her place.
The corpses of the Council of the Seven Kingdoms lay sprawled on the ground about her, their blood coating the hem of her immaculate ivory dress. The Last Queen, in all her glory, bloated with power, glowing with her gory victory. The Fallen Queen struggled from her place on the gritty, gore-covered stone floor, struggled to take a breath through crushed lungs, struggled for the wooden stake just out of reach of her fingertips. The monster above her noticed her struggle with disdain, and with a flick of her foot, sent the weapon skittering across the floor.
“Now stepmother,” came the lovely, wounded voice, “You would slaughter your own daughter?” As the musical laugh filled the hall, the Queen bowed her head, tears filling her eyes as she looked at the beautiful monster her stepdaughter had become.
“I have failed you, Snow,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
I could have stopped this, if only I were stronger.