Schönheit's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

Snow White's question hung in the warm cottage. Everything here belongs to you. Schönheit had no clever answer. She had shown the girl her wolf, her clock, her dragon, her sealed door. She had shown Snow White the whole forest and none of herself. A girl could not choose a stranger. So Schönheit sent the servants away. The wolf rose and slipped out. The clock climbed back onto the mantel and went still. The dragon folded its wings and left the window. The room emptied until only the two of them remained. "You want the truth," Schönheit said. "Then sit. I'll give it to you." She crossed to the shelf and lifted down an old book. Its cover was carved wood, worn smooth, painted with birds and stars. She set it on the table between them and opened it. The pages held every story the girl had ever heard. Red and her wolf. The glass slipper. The cursed briar. Schönheit turned to the last written page and pointed to a woman who slept in a tower, waiting for someone who never came. "I wrote her," Schönheit said. "I wrote her to wait. Then I became her. I have been waiting a very long time." Snow White read the page. She looked up. "You made all these people fall in love." "I made a rule," Schönheit said. "Love must be chosen. No spell can force it. Not even mine." She closed the book. "I have kept that rule for every mortal in this forest. I broke it for no one. And now I am alone because of it." The girl was quiet a long moment. "You brought me here for that." "Yes." Schönheit did not soften it. "I want you to stay with me. Not tricked. Not spelled. Chosen. But you cannot choose me while I hide. So here I am. No servants. No stories. Just the one who wrote them." Snow White studied her face. For the first time she did not reach for the knife. She did not flinch. She only looked, the way you look at a real person and not a threat. "You could have lied," the girl said. "I could have." "You didn't." Snow White nodded slowly, as if setting something down. "Then I know what you are now. A person who waits and is afraid to ask." The words landed harder than any refusal. Schönheit had wanted to be met. She had not expected to be seen so plainly. "I have not decided," Snow White said. "But I will decide. Myself. That is the deal." "That is the deal," Schönheit agreed. The girl put her hand flat on the closed book, then drew it back. She had met the goddess at last. But now Schönheit understood the danger she had made. She had asked for a free choice. And a free choice could still be no.