The abyss had become a reappearing friend. A certain someone, not of the flesh, greeted her with stillness and serenity. As she floated, it felt like her soul was dancing with the rhythm of the limbo—glancing and prancing like a swan, and as she reached out her hands towards a certain bright light…
"Oh, thank the Lord above! You are finally awake!" Lenzmonat cheered, taking her hand into his as he said a quiet prayer.
Maria Blanca was perplexed—still in a daze and battling against the lightheadedness she was feeling. "Wha—what happened?" She asked, while her gold eyes were still adjusting to the cloudiness.
"You fell unconscious, my child," Geola told her in a careful tone. "We were worried! The animals and the great elk came running at us. They dragged us from our labour until we reached here just in time."
"We thought they had gone feral! But their intentions were pure, and all they wanted was to help you." Heumonat added, raising one hand to his chest as he calmed his shaky nerves.
"You have angels here on earth, dearie. They were frantic when they got to us. It was truly a burden when our languages had this large wall in between, but they did what they had to do and wasted no time in taking us to you. Oh, sweet princess, we were really worried when we saw you on the ground. Do tell us what happened?" As he knelt beside her and took one of her hands, Wonniemonat's eyes were wet with anxious tears.
Seeing the brood forming on her little seven fathers' faces, Maria Blanca recalled what she did earlier on that day. She told them about finishing the laundry, the moment she and the beasts all rested by the hearth—even complimenting them about their juniper berry bread—and she even told them the time she went to the well to fetch more water and how she met the old woman.
Yes, she now remembered—the old woman, that strange old woman and her bodice.
Looking down, she realised she no longer wore the bodice the old woman had made her wear. And as she scoured throughout the room, she then saw the clothing, now ripped in half, sitting on a chair—quietly accepting defeat when the knife cut right down the middle.
Upon hearing about the strange old woman, the seven dwarves were alarmed. They were thinking the same thing, but were not quite sure whether their hunch was right.
As they gathered closer around her, Lenzmonat then said, "Oh, truly strange—you see, my dear, our neighbours were from a far distance. We are basically all along in this area. Whether or not that old woman was Queen Gertrude's servant, we want you to always be on guard and never let any strangers come here."
Everyone agreed, nodding their heads as Maria Blanca reflected.
Fully understanding the great fear that was running in the little men's minds, Maria Blanca now promised to be careful. She even begged for their forgiveness for being too naïve and too nice, which somehow brought danger closer to the doorsteps. The little men reassured her not to worry about them and made it clear they deeply cared for her, like a father to his daughter.
The pale princess was certain she had learned a lesson—a virtue of examining people and seeing right through beyond the façade they showcased.
Yet being too good was something Maria Blanca was blessed with…
It was like misfortune was now coming for their necks, a plague looming from a closer distance that wanted nothing but the very essence of the innocence's life.
Another day came, and the same situation happened.
The chill remained in the air, and Maria Blanca was advised to stay indoors by the seven little men. They gave her more books to read, and though she insisted on doing more chores, the little men requested that she rest and have respite on that day. After they bid farewell as they went to work, Maria Blanca followed their orders and began reading one of the books that had been given to her.
But midway through her reading, a knock sounded from the door, forcing the pale princess to pause on her mythical adventure.
Once she slightly opened the door, Maria Blanca saw another old woman—a different old woman, who was selling goods that were too beautiful to be ignored.
Maria Blanca tried to decline, but with such a golden tongue, the princess was convinced and tried on one of her products that definitely caught her eye.
A peineta, a beautiful coral comb with white roses on it. Maria Blanca remembered when she was looking at her late mother's trinkets, she saw one of that kind. Even her nurses, Olga and Winifred, told her tales of how her mother would gift other queens with a special peineta when they visited the kingdom. Sensing no farce, Maria Blanca wore the comb the old woman was selling and when it touched her head…
There, she went again, a flower withering as darkness welcomed her once more with its cold embrace.
In the same wicked fashion, the old woman escaped as she morphed back to her true self, the envious Queen Gertrude, cackling in joyous notes, thinking she was now the fairest in the land.
Somehow, amidst the brewing sorrow, light always emerged despite appearing only as a spec of dust in the waving winds.
The animals sensed something was amiss. They summoned the great elk, and when their calls were heard, they all ran back to the cottage and immediately saw Maria Blanca sprawled on the ground. The scent of poison even reached their noses, causing them to hastily fetch the dwarves once more to help them save their beloved pale princess.
At the nick of time, Maria Blanca was rescued as one of the dwarves carefully took out the poisoned comb from her head.
The light colours on her face returned as life slowly ran back into her veins. Once more, she begged for the seven dwarves' forgiveness for being too gullible in welcoming danger into the cottage.
The seven dwarves diligently reminded her again not to accommodate unknown people. Yet, they showed mercy and could never be angry at their princess, knowing she was still trying to understand the outside world.
Instead of scolding her, they gathered around her, checked if she was now alright and in better spirits, and reminded her—no matter how many times—to always keep safe and be vigilant.
"Again, my child, please be careful. We would be heartbroken if something happens to you." Geola said, reassured by the others as they nodded their heads.
"Do please forgive me…" Maria Blanca responded too piteously, clasping her hands to her chest as her gold eyes were wet with tears. "I—I was too distracted by the old woman's beautiful things, and also I remembered about my mother having the same lovely comb. I am really sorry."
The little men pardoned her and even baked her another juniper berry bread to uplift her downhearted spirit. Warm milk was also served, and the woodland creatures were invited to enhance the atmosphere after the recent tragedy.
However, the second time should have been a red sky in the early morn—a burned hand close to the flames…
And on the third time, luck no longer favoured such a call.
It was unusually cold on that Friday morning. The air was horribly nippy, and the sky was gloomy, forcing the woodland beasts to hide and hibernate in their respective abodes. Yet, inside the cottage, the warmth remained, dancing as the pale princess enjoyed preparing to bake an apple pie.
She hummed, she danced—she glided like a pretty swan who never forgot her routine despite the blistering frost.
However, happiness paused when a knock sounded from the door. Maria Blanca hesitated as she told herself to be keen on whoever was there and never—ever be so gullible as days ago.
Upon opening the door, a beautiful woman greeted the princess with a charming smile. Different from those strange passersby from days ago, she seemed to be a genuine, delightful lady as she held a basket filled with apples.
"Good day, dearie! Are you new here?" She asked, with clear wonderment across her face.
"Good day, my good lady! I—I came from afar and am just a visitor." Maria Blanca responded, trying to sound convincing as she was mindful of her words.
"Kin of the little men? Oh, goodness me, where are my manners?" She chuckled, bowing her head after, "I am a neighbour from upstream. Nice to meet you, dearie! I come here because I do believe a miracle happened to me. You see, because of the unending winter, my apple trees were long gone. Yet, recently, I saw it was blooming and produced fruit! I was so glad that I came to tears when I said grace."
As the fair woman pulled out one apple from her basket, Maria Blanca's eyes grew bright like the full moon—fascinated by how ripe and red the apple was. Truly, it was a miracle that had happened to the woman's tree. The apples the dwarves acquired were too small; they were sweet, but never the best ones, all because of the chill weather.
Looking at the fruit, it looked like a big ruby stone on her hands, fiery and bright. It indeed appeared to be ripe, and when the fair woman offered it to her, Maria Blanca retreated, shy to take a gift from a stranger, especially when that gift seemed so special.
"Oh, do not fret, dearie. This is a gift. I usually delivered apples here for the dwellers, but ever since this snow, I no longer have good apples." Her mouth pouted as she recalled those days, which she deemed merry.
Convinced enough, Maria Blanca fully opened the half-wide door, accepted the apple, and took a bite as the fair woman suggested.
As her tongue tasted the sweetness, the world around her became black and a white—moving to a still as the ground seemed to tremble. There were visions of angry shadows laughing, taunting, and clawing at the princess, making her confused and frightened. Not for long, the sweet taste of the fruit turned bitter, her tongue stiffened, and her throat swelled from the ugliness of how the apple now tasted. As if the forbidden fruit of Eden was upon her tongue that all bright turned darkness…
Maria Blanca felt as if she was spinning and everything around her was nothing but a flashing kaleidoscope until darkness took over. After such a convoluted ordeal, there she went, on the ground, embracing the darkness as it opened its cold arms to her.
Down the pale princess, once more, a perished edelweiss whose one last tear trickled, bidding farewell to the world.
Gazing down at the princess, the fair woman laughed—howling like a mad banshee as she declared, "Still so innocent… That is what you get for being so kind and deceitful. Who could have thought that one poisoned apple could solve all of my problems? Now, I, the mistress of this kingdom, am the fairest of them all!" Black smoke swirled over her, and there she morphed back into herself, back into the wicked Queen Gertrude.