Wynter (A Snow White Retelling)

The Princess's Burden

Wynter smoothed out the skirt of her black lace dress and took a deep breath. She stared at the throne room door but didn't enter. As soon as she went in, she would have to address her people as queen. The coronation ceremony would not be for a few more weeks until after they all mourned her father's death, but the needs of her people couldn't wait that long.

She lifted her chin and held her head high. She had to appear confident, even if she lacked every confidence in herself. She entered the throne room and smiled at the people already lined up before the throne. The afternoon light spilled through the windows and cast shadows across the faces of her people. She couldn't see the faces of everyone that filled the room, but she could sense their restlessness as if they also questioned her ability to be queen.

She walked up to the thrones, but she stopped short of them.

The king's throne was empty.

Wynter was overcome by a renewed sense of loss that was made more real by her father's place being empty before her. She closed her eyes and took another breath. As she searched for the strength to continue on without her father by her side, his words came to mind: "I am so proud of you." Wynter smiled at the memory of her father, and she opened her eyes to face the task ahead of her. She approached the princess's throne to the left of the king's throne. Her stepmother was already sitting on the opposite side with Andrew standing beside her.

A young boy, who couldn't have been more than eleven, approached Wynter before she had fully sat down. He removed his small hat and bowed. "Your Highness, my family's farm is being over run by foxes. My mother won't let me hunt them, and my father is too ill to do it." The boy wrung his hat in his hands and looked down at his feet. "Our chickens are being killed, and we won't have anything to sell without them. No one will help us."

The small boy tugged at Wynter's heart. Why wouldn't anyone in his village help them? "I will personally send my father's huntsman to rid your farm of the foxes." She leaned forward to get the boy's attention. He hesitantly looked up at her with his big brown eyes. "We will help your family."

The boy smiled and bowed. "Thank you, Your Highness." He boldly took another step closer, and the guards moved in to stop him. Wynter raised her hand for the guards to remain where they were. "I think you'll be a great queen," the boy said. He bowed again and left.

Wynter couldn't help but smile at the boy's words. He was only a child, but he still thought she could do it. Maybe her father wasn't the only one who thought that way.

A young couple stepped forward next and told Wynter about their horses and farm tools that were stolen weeks ago. Without the horses and tools, they weren't able to till the ground to prepare for planting season. The village bailiff told them he was taking care of it, but they saw him drunk in his office on more than one occasion. Wynter sent them to speak with the captain of the guard so that he could look into their missing property and the bailiff.

An older gentleman came and asked for help solving a land dispute between him and his younger brother. Their father died without a will, and they couldn't agree on who got what property. Wynter advised that they split up the land evenly, but the older brother got the house. She sent him to one of her lords, offering him to help if there were any more disputes.

An elderly couple with no children sought help for their farm, and two boys and their younger sister spoke up, saying they were looking for a job and a place to live. The couple said they were happy to take the three young people into their home in exchange for help. Wynter was happy that worked out for all of them.

Many more people of all ages and ranks stepped forward, seeking Wynter's help or advice. With each person that she helped, her smile grew, and she held her head high. Her father was right. She loved helping her people. This was what she had spent years learning how to do, and now was her time to do it.

An old man with a white beard that hung to his waist hobbled forward, leaning on his wooden staff for support. "Traders from the southern kingdoms passed through my village last week," he said. "Their tongues were loosened by their foul drinks one night, and they started arguing about whose kingdom would overthrow our new queen first." He pointed a long, gnarled finger at Wynter. "They were talking about you."

The room echoed with the whispers of the other villagers, and Wynter looked to her stepmother for help. Lucinda grinned, lifted her nose in the air, and shook her head. She faced the crowd again, ignoring Wynter's silent plea for help.

"How will you handle this?" the old man asked.

Wynter's mind raced, trying to think of what her father would have said. "I will send messengers to each of the southern kingdoms and ask for their support when it is time for me to assume the throne."

"But what if the messages arrive too late?" a woman cried out from the line.

"Or what if they refuse and send armies against us?" another man asked.

"I...I am afraid I can't answer those questions until I investigate these rumors and discuss them with the council."

"You mean you don't have an answer," the old man shouted as if he was trying to make sure the whole kingdom heard him. "You might be able to send a huntsman to kill foxes on a farm, but you are not fit to be queen and protect us from our enemies!"

Most of the crowd joined in on the uproar, shouting and calling her names. A few of the younger men and women tried to get closer, shaking their fists at her. Wynter looked on in horror as the guards stepped in between her and the people, trying to hold them back. The villagers didn't force their way past the guards, but they continued to shout that they wanted a king who could lead them into battle and protect them.

"Your Highness." Wynter looked up and saw two of her guards, Christopher and Alfred, standing beside her. "May I suggest you leave and let the queen handle the rest of the questions until they calm down?" Christopher asked.

Wynter nodded absentmindedly, her attention still fixed on the scene before her. The room echoed with a unanimous roar of outcries against her, and many of them called her a coward. She slowly stood and took Christopher's arm, allowing him and Alfred to safely escort her out the side door of the throne room.

"May we accompany you somewhere? Perhaps your room?" Christopher asked.

"No, I will be fine out here."

"Don't listen to those naysayers," said Alfred. "They don't realize who they are talking to. They will come around once they have a chance to see you rule as queen."

"Thank you," Wynter said to both guards.

They bowed their heads and returned to the throne room to help contain the unruly crowd. Wynter could still hear them shouting on the other side of the closed door. She thought she heard "Where is the princess?" and "Why is she hiding?" amidst all the noise.

Wynter took off running down the hall. Her father was wrong. She couldn't be queen. Even if she could lead her people in the day to day problems of life, they wanted a king who could protect them during times of war, and that was something she could never give them.

Her father was praised for being at the front of the lines when their land and people were threatened. He knew that being king meant fighting on behalf of the defenseless, and he never hesitated to do so. As a result, the kingdom had experienced many years of peace.

Her kingdom needed someone who could protect them the next time another king decided to try to take their land. And if what that old man said was true, there were kingdoms already plotting to attack now that their noble king was dead and a young princess was taking his place.

Wynter ran outside and navigated her way through the expansive gardens. She ignored the sounds of the birds ushering in spring and the bright yellow daffodils that had just begun to bloom. She couldn't enjoy those things now. She needed to find a way to fix the mess she was in.