Ruby-Rose II felt a chill in the air as Millie ushered her into the bed-chamber.

"Shall we get you out of this dress you so despise and get you into your riding gear, milady?"

Millie stopped just inside the door and flashed a pained smile. "My apologies. I nearly forgot. You are not her. But you did splendidly, I must say. I don't think the Queen suspected anything untoward."

Ruby ignored the girl for a moment. Painfully trying to concentrate on the ambience of the room. Something had shifted from the moment they had left it until their return. The air smelled slightly sour and...

"Is it just me, or is it freezing in here, Millie?" she asked as goosebumps prickled her skin underneath the dress's puffy, hideous sleeves.

Millie eyed the room curiously. "I feel nothing at all, your ladyship."

Ruby pulled Millie to where she stood. "There. Do you feel it now?"

She watched Millie scrunch up her face in concentration, only to shake her head a moment later. "I feel nothing of the sort, Ruby-Rose, but if you're cold, I shall call a hearth girl and have a fire roaring in all but a moment."

There it was again, a strange pulse in the air, like a soft brush of the wind. Ruby's goosebumps returned with fervour. She pulled her sleeve up to show Millie her prickled forearm. "See."

Millie eyed the fake Princess's forearm, and a worried look flickered on her face.

"What is it, Millie? Am I coming down with something—like smallpox? Please, I don't wanna die of smallpox, all blistered and stuff. Where I come from, it doesn't exist anymore."

"Smallpox?" Millie looked more troubled than before. "I know not what smallpox is ma'am, but if you mean, the Blight, then I shall not worry. Chills are the last stage. Before that you get a fever, you can't keep your food down, and you will become as frail as my brother Hans after that horrid nightmare he went through as a child." Millie shuddered at her memory. "No, milady. This is something else entirely, I'm afraid."

Panic welled in Ruby's chest then, of course. What could be worse than Blight then? Even the name sounded horrible.

She began clawing at her skin, trying to rid whatever had Millie look so concerned. "What is wrong with me? Tell me."

Millie's gentle arm stopped her frantic scratching. "It's nothing to worry your pretty little head with."

"Then why do you look so worried?"

Millie leaned in and whispered such a thing, it had Ruby stand there with her mouth agape and her eyes wild with shock.

"You're kidding me!"

Millie smiled awkwardly. "I wish I were the right person to explain this to you, milady, but I know very little about it, meself."

Ruby felt another round of chills then and couldn't help but notice Millie indeed stood undisturbed by whatever was happening to her. It wasn't the room at all.

"So you're saying, that chill in the air I feel is—?"

"Yes." Millie smiled ruefully, before scratching her head with wonder. "But I do not understand. You say you come from this human world, where magic does not exist... but how is it you sense it? You are human, are you not?"

"You daft maid!" Came a rumble so deep from behind, it had the girls leap into each other's arms, shaking like a leaf—or leaves.

Behind them stood a red-faced Sir Bashful, seemingly enraged. "Dare not speak so openly about such things within these walls, you fool. For you know more than she does, these walls have ears."

"Sir Bashfu—" Millie's voice trembled uncontrollably.

"Do not waste your inconsequential breath, girl. Bring me a jar of yellow blossom oil. Go like your life and hers depends on it!"

Millie gawked at the giant knight blocking the doorway. They hadn't even heard the usual heavy-on-its-hinges, groaning doors open to let him in. Something that was possible only if one knew the arts of conjuring. And one could only conjure the ancient powers of the land if one were blue-blooded. Something Millie had long suspected when it came to the uncannily singular-in-appearance of Sir Bashful. He shared little to no resemblance with his six brothers, of which only five remained.

Poor Sir Sneezy! Millie thought next. One loud sneeze during a night reconnaissance mission led to an arrow true to his head. The knight had died in his brother Dopey's arms. Or so the story went.

"What are you staring at, girl? Make haste to the kitchen. And only ask Marta for the oil and no other. In fact, don't breathe a word of it out loud or I shall know. Go, child!" he barked, and Millie's feet obeyed as if they had a mind of their own.

She ran out the chamber—fastest she had ever run. Even when her lunges struggled to fill with air and her legs burned in protest, Millie stole through the quiet midday castle, heading for the Royal Kitchen.

"Marta. Marta." Her mind chanted. She knew not why.

Back in the chamber, Ruby-Rose stood less nervous than before. The man—for that's what she was going to call him, despite his Elf-ish ears, and his Viking-like hair and girth—had remained by the door. It was almost like he was blocking it on purpose. Perhaps he thought she was going to flee.

And I would too, right after Millie if I could.

Ruby tried to smile. "So you are Bashful?"

"Sir Bashful, and don't you for a moment think I am anything like the one you read about growing up."

Ruby's jaw fell open. "How did you—"

"Know?"

She nodded.

"I'm the one that put you there, to keep you safe."

Ha! Ruby nearly snorted. The man sounded too damn serious. Keep her safe? From what? Boredom?

"How are you here?" Bashful asked, eyes unwavering from her face.

Ruby shrugged. "I don't know."

"Hmm." He gripped his sword hilt tighter, a move noticed by Ruby.

It worried her so. "Did Snow send you? To what? Cut my heart out so she can be the prettiest of them all?"

Bashful sneered, gritting his teeth. His body swayed inwards, but he held, as if he were being pushed by something from the outside. He pushed back against whatever it was.

"If only that were the entire story, milady."

"I'm not milady," Ruby corrected.

Bashful smiled knowingly, warmly. Like her father used to when he was alive. A smile that usually set her day right. Gosh, she missed that smile.

"But you are milady. Or did you not hear the part when I said, that I was the one who put you there, in the human world."

"I'm sorry, what?" Ruby felt her feet go numb. Had the man just said what she thought he'd said. "Did you just—"

"Say you're the real Princess Ruby White? Then yes, I did." Bashful gave her a small crusty as he still battled with whatever he was keeping out of her room, and it occurred to Ruby then, her chills had stopped. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person, dear girl."

"We've met before?" Ruby's skin prickled again, not from the chills but from the realisation that Sir Bashful looked awfully familiar.

"We have, pea. We have."

Get out! Ruby moved her lips, utterly unaware that she had forgotten to sound the words out. It couldn't be. Could it? But before she could ask the man who no longer scared her the question, Millie returned with a small vial of something that smelled like Honeysuckle and Lily mixed.

Millie handed the vial to the knight and slithered back into the room, breathless. "Milady, are you all right?"

No, Millie. I'm not alright'—but again, our poor, stupefied young heroine had forgotten to voice her words.

"Fetch me everything the Princess arrived here with, girl," Sir Bashful ordered, finally allowing the door to slam shut and sealed behind him. "I must get you two to safety at once. We haven't time to waste. Snow's already calling her golden knights back home to do what I couldn't sixteen years ago." He met Ruby's gaze then. "Kill you, so one day, you may not kill her."

Me? Kill her? Thought Ruby. Still mute.

"And you!" Sir Bashful turned to the handmaiden then. "You must stay together, the both of you, until your birthday. No matter what. You stick together. One dies, the other will too."

"I beg your pardon, Sir?" It was Millie, forever more alert than our Ruby-Rose II, who indeed happened to be Ruby-Rose I, the original.

"I'll explain once we are in the clear. Fetch everything you can carry. Go. You have no time to waste."

Millie needed no more prompting. She rushed around the room gathering things she and the Princess may need wherever it was Sir Bashful was going to take them. Something in the air had changed that morning. She should have known the day was going to be odd the moment she'd woken up to a blood-red sky at dawn. Today, the moon demanded blood be spilled and there was no way she wanted it to be hers, or this new Ruby-Rose's. Mere hours had made her care for the girl just the same.

"Come, Princess, help me find your belongings. Where are the book and the brick you came here with?"

Still addle-brained, Ruby assisted her maid in packing as soon as they could. For what? She couldn't tell. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that yesterday; she was just a normal teen, worried about her schoolwork and her unattainable crushes. And today, she was some Princess of a fairytale, her mother was Snow-freaking-White, and for reasons unknown to her, and it wasn't to do with beauty, her mother—still sounded odd in her head—wanted to kill her? How the hell had she landed in this mess?

Snow White wants me dead?

Now, can one blame the poor girl for being as baffled as a wordless mime? No, not really. This was heavy news indeed.

Snow White wants me dead?

WC: 1691                       TWC: 11, 084

[A/N: this chapter kind of wrote itself. I'm just hoping it makes sense. 😂

What do you guys think Millie said to Ruby? Or what Ruby remembered about Bashful?

How are you finding this twist in Snow White? I hope I'm doing it justice and you're having fun. 🤗 From my phone to your screen. Enjoy. G'nite!]