1. Apple Tree


    Date: 8/13/2015, Categories: First Time, Author: FeliciaGreene, Rating: 9, Source: LushStories

    business murdering young women - but Roget, he has absolutely no business losing his heart to someone who can never make him happy. She saw the palace in her mind; the closed gates, the carefully selected staff. He must see her every day. Can the girl really be that enchanting? The Queen’s face came to mind; Veronique shivered. Maybe that’s why she wants Roget to do it. She’s seen into his heart, and doesn't like the way it’s pointing. She looked out of the window. The edge of the woods stood near and dark. Hide her, Roget. Hide her far away and then forget her. The wolves howled in the woods that night. Roget barely heard them; he could barely hear his own thoughts above the frantic beating of his heart. As he climbed the staircase, gilded angels watching him from the upstairs balcony, he tried to push away the memories that assailed him. The closer he got to the chamber, her chamber, the slower his steps became. Eventually he leaned against a column, took a deep, shuddering breath. It was the apple. That was the day he knew; that shining day in late September one year ago. He’d been riding back from a hard hunt, clothes soaked with sweat, the others far behind him. After a week under the Queen’s thumb the air had seemed unutterably sweet; as he had stopped to let his horse recover, heart full of dizzying adrenaline, he realised that he could enjoy his life. Lonely and full of privation as it was, it had its solitary pleasures. He could live it. And then an apple had hit him ...
    on the head. "Hello there, Roget." He had raised his head, laughing - he knew that voice. "Hello, Snow-White." But it wasn't the princess that he’d seen nearly every day since childhood. It wasn't the blonde-haired infant running wild through the gardens, stealing fruit, interrupting Roget’s adolescent games with a giggle. It wasn't the withdrawn adolescent who’d been forced to stay indoors, to take up more ladylike pursuits - the teenager who could barely speak a full sentence to Roget before blushing scarlet and running away. She wasn't even the cool-headed, sensible playmate who’d always help him with his woodland tasks, run races, enjoy fresh air after days of castle confinement. As he had looked into the sly, mischievous face of Snow-White, standing resolute on a wide branch some ten feet above the ground, Roget saw the woman she had become. Her dress tied daringly above the knees to aid climbing, Snow-White’s shapely thighs tensed as she reached for her nearby basket. She took out another apple, shining red, and bit into it. Juices ran down her chin; she swept a length of white-blonde hair away from her face. The thought shot through Roget’s heart; I love her. I always have . It seemed barely a surprise. And then, equally as powerful, another thought came through. The Queen must never, ever know . He stood transfixed, horrified, imagining what would happen if the Queen discovered her favourite servant nursing a passion for the bastard daughter, until Snow-White’s laugh ...
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