Snow
“We did it,” Richard whispers, brushing his hand against mine.
“Of course we fuckin’ did it,” Derek laughs, looking at me and offering me a sly grin. I can’t help but be amazed and how cool and in control he always looks, even when the whole world seems to be crashing down.
“Just look at it,” Tyler then whispers at my ear, waving at the crowd below us. While just one hour ago everyone was expecting to see Richard hang from the end of a rope, now they’re all chanting my name. Hundreds of St. Carlta’s flags seems to have popped out of nowhere as well, and the thousands of people at my feet look like a colorful ocean of color and excitement.
Finally, there’s hope again.
Standing with the men I love, all seven of them, I feel tears stinging at my eyes as I take in the whole thing. Behind us, lined up at the back of the stage, Moira and Gladrell are on their knees, hands tied behind their backs as they wait for the SEALs to haul them into the helicopter. It has landed right in the middle of the square and, despite the strictness of the US military, a lot of St. Carlta’s civilians are perched on the helicopter as they chant at the top of their lungs.
I’m still baffled that we managed to pull this off. Working with the US was the plan all along, and my father was instrumental to the whole thing. With the help of Tyler and the others, we’ve managed to secure a line between our hideout and New York City, where my father was exiled. Flying back and forth between NYC and Washington, he finally managed to secure the President’s support.
It was an headache to coordinate efforts between St. Carlta and the US, but once their military machine was on the move, I knew there’d be no stopping it. And the moment they agreed to help us overthrow Moira, that was when we put everything into motion. We made the population take over the streets, we made the world see what Moira was all about, and we made sure she wouldn’t resist to leave the security of the palace walls.
In the end, her own arrogance was the one thing behind her fall. With the crown on her head, she forgot about where the real power lies: in the people. And the moment she decided me to confront me head-on, that was the moment she signed her death sentence. Carefully placed around the country, the US forces were just waiting for a sign to move — and the moment Nicholas signaled them, it all happened fast.
And now...a new day has dawned.
“Princess,” the US General greets me solemnly, offering me his hand. He’s a tall man, the lines in his faces so deep they look as if they’ve been etched by the blade of an axe, but the slight smile on his lips puts me at ease.
“General, in behalf of our people, you have our thanks. The United States has a friend in St. Carlta,” I tell him as I shake his hand, his large fingers wrapped around mine. “Any news on my father?” I ask him, anxious to see him again. “We’re not done until the crown is back where it belongs.”
“About that,” he chuckles, snapping his fingers. The moment he does it, two Navy SEALs climb up the stage, dragging a large metallic box behind them. “Your father’s already on his way, and he should be back in St. Carlta tonight. But, meanwhile, he told me to give you this,” he continues, pulling an envelope from inside his jacket and giving it to me.
Hesitantly, I take it into my hands and turn it around. There’s the Royal sigil in there, which means this one came directly from my father. As I open the envelope and take the letter out, I feel my heart pick up the pace.
“Dear Snow,” the letter starts, “these have been trying times for our kingdom. The people have suffered needlessly, and all because of me. You might not see it now, but it was my poor judgement that brought someone like Moira into the palace. The blame for what happened rests on my shoulders, and I can’t take back the crown. I wouldn’t dare to. Not when our people have someone like you, someone that led them through our darkest hours. Take the crown, Snow — it’s yours. Long live the Queen,” he finishes, his loose signature at the end.
“Congratulations, Queen,” the General smiles as the SEALs place the box at my feet. “Your men should be the ones doing it,” he then adds, taking one step back and looking at the seven men by my side.
As Richard squeezes my hand in his, Lucien and Derek take one step forward. Kneeling in front of the box, they take a set of two keys from the General’s hands and, solemnly, they open up the box. From inside comes the glow of a golden crown, cut diamonds spread at regular spaces around the band.
“My Queen,” Lucien whispers as he reaches for the crown, his eyes locked on mine. I don’t even say a word — with my heart almost ready to burst, I simply go down on my knees in front of him. The two of them stand up slowly and, gently, they place the crown on my head.
“My Queen,” the seven men whisper, all of them looking at me with something that’s more than respect or admiration...
It’s love.
Swallowing hard, I rise up and turn to face the crowd. By now, the grey clouds above have given way to the sun, its fierce glow coloring the whole day.
“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!” Derek shouts, taking one step toward the edge of the stage and raising his fist.
“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!” The whole crowd repeats incessantly, their words drowning out the beat of my own heart.
“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!”
“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!”