The leaves rustled as Prince Florian made his way across the undergrowth, occasionally using his sword to slash vines.
Then, he saw it.
She lay in a glass coffin in the middle of the clearing. Skin as white as snow. Scarlet lips the same shade as blood. Hair darker than a raven’s. Even on the brink of death, she was still undeniably beautiful.
Only a true love's kiss can save her… the prince remembered his mother telling him.
So, carefully, he lifted the glass lid and set it on the ground beside him.
He slowly leaned down and kissed her. To him, it felt… so right.
But something about her lips bothered his subconscious.
Beneath him, Snow White's eyes snapped open as she caught the prince just as he fell over—dead. A look of shock on his face as the poison worked its way through his body.
She set him in her coffin and put the lid back on.
In her head Snow White mentally crossed out “The Prince” on her list.
Mithridatism really can be useful… Snow White thought as she skipped away into the thick undergrowth. A wicked grin on her face.
One down. Two more to go….