Eight-year-old Princess Snow White saw her father murdered at dinner. At thirteen, she is the one in danger in this traditional re-telling of the Snow White tale. novella, approx 80 pages, illustratedWe lied when Father died because we had to. At least that’s what she said. We were sitting at dinner―roast chicken and root vegetables, after leek and potato soup―and the dessert, apple trifle, had just come out. Father started first, of course. Royalty was served before anyone else. The queen piled cake and berries on my plate, trying to bribe me with sweets for some unknown reason. “Go on, dear, eat up. It’s good.” She licked the cream off the spoon and rolled her eyes like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.I didn’t like her, so in the contrary way of a seven-year-old, I took my time before starting my dessert, picking up my spoon and carefully arranging the cream so it covered the plate smoothly before I took a spoonful and studied it, making sure it was exactly one-third cake, one-third fruit, and one-third cream. And then he collapsed on the table. The guards moved in and, in less than a breath, they had surrounded us. The queen was leaning over Father, feeling his neck. She shook her head.
