The sound of heels echoed through the long, cavernous hall, each step reverberating, one foot over the other, deliberate and measured. At the end of the hall, massive glass-like doors stood tall, leading into a room vast enough to hold thousands. In the center was a grand, round table, A womanly figure sat, already waiting for her guest.

“How’s my grandson, my dear daughter?” the Queen’s voice echoed softly but carried an unmistakable authority.

Miss Snow began her descent down the steps, slow and careful, ensuring each step was deliberate, as if a single misstep would send her sprawling. "He’s doing well, Mother, though he’s causing me nothing but trouble." She smiled faintly, masking the fatigue that came from raising a spirited child.

A butler stood ready, poised to pull the seat for Miss Snow. Grabbing his hand, she lowered herself gracefully into the chair. The butler, satisfied with his task, took his place beside the womanly figure, old, with grey hair and wrinkled skin. Despite her age, her emerald-green eyes sparkled with life, vibrant against the lines of age. She wore a deep blue gown adorned with floral embroidery, reminiscent of the lush beauty of springtime meadows. This was the Queen.

“That’s how young boys are these days," the Queen said, her voice softer, almost affectionate. "Just like his father.”

Miss Snow’s tone hardened. "Enough, old hag," she said, though there was no real malice in her words. “What is so urgent that you sent Lisa to fetch me?”

The Queen leaned forward slightly, the light in her eyes dimming. “Always so impatient,” she murmured, though her voice trembled as if weighed down by a dark burden. “Last night... it wasn’t a dream that came to me. It was a vision—an oracle. And what I saw… still shakes me to my core.”

Miss Snow's playful demeanor vanished.

“I saw him... A man—a figure so monstrous, so otherworldly, it felt like gazing into the abyss itself. He had wings—black wings, like the void, like death incarnate. His face twisted into a grotesque grin, his eyes burning with an unholy madness, as though he had seen the end of worlds... and reveled in it. I felt his gaze... His hate was so palpable it pierced my very soul. It was overwhelming. I... I had to look away.”

The Queen’s voice quivered as she spoke, and Miss Snow felt a growing unease rise in her chest. The Queen continued, “Behind me... was our beloved country. Or what remained of it. The land was overrun with monstrosities, creatures I have never seen before, abominations that shouldn’t exist in this world. Twisted shadows took form, writhing and crawling with unnatural hunger. Their eyes were empty pits, their teeth glistening with the promise of death.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Miss Snow's hand trembled on the table.

“And in front of me stood the kings and queens of every known kingdom in the world—our greatest rulers, our strongest protectors. But as I watched, they fell. One by one, their bodies withered into rotting corpses, their flesh decaying before they could even draw their swords. The crowns slipped from their heads, rolling away as the dust of the apocalypse consumed them.”

Miss Snow’s breathing quickened, her heart pounding in her chest.

“But one remained... John.” The Queen’s voice was barely a whisper now. “He stood alone, facing that winged terror, the embodiment of evil itself. He was the last line of defense between that nightmare and our world’s utter destruction.”

The room fell silent as the Queen’s words lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Miss Snow was shaken to her core, her mind reeling. She couldn’t breathe for a moment. When she finally regained her composure, her voice trembled. “This can’t be true! Not my son, John. I’ve already lost my husband—I can’t lose him too!” The grief and fear in her voice were unmistakable. The thought of losing John was unbearable.

The Queen gazed at her daughter, her eyes filled with sorrow. “It is not for me to decide John’s fate. This is the will of the gods, and we cannot change it. I know how much you love him... how afraid you are of losing him, especially after losing his father. But, my dear daughter, you must let him go. He must grow strong, for he alone can face this evil. That is why I called you here—to discuss John’s future.”

“No!” Miss Snow’s voice broke as she tried to suppress her fear. “What if I stand in his place? What if I face this winged monster instead?”

The Queen’s face grew even more grave. “I didn’t want to say this, but you did face him... in my vision. You were there, with the other kings and queens, and you died. This is John’s fate, and you cannot change it.”

Miss Snow’s hands trembled as she pushed herself up from the table, her resolve barely holding. “I will not bow to this so-called fate. Not while I still have breath!” Her voice was fierce with defiance as she stormed out of the room, leaving the Queen alone in the vast hall.

A long silence hung in the air until the butler, Reid, finally spoke. “Shall I bring her back, Your Majesty?”

The Queen shook her head. “No. I’ve said all I needed to say. She just needs time to adjust, to understand.” The Queen turned to him, her voice softening. “Do you have children Reid?”

“no, I do not have any kin.”

The Queen smiled sadly. “I pray that you do someday. Life is so much better when you have someone to love, someone to watch grow into the person they are meant to be.”

Reid bowed his head. “Thank you for your kind words, Your Majesty. Perhaps I am overstepping my bounds, but... may I ask if you would consider assigning me a lady-in-waiting?”

The Queen’s eyes gleamed with sudden intensity. “Are you strong, Reid?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Pardon?”

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“N-no, Your Majesty,” Reid stammered. “I... I think I am strong.”

A small smile crept onto the Queen’s face. “Then I have just the lady in mind for you.”