I grabbed the silver knife and swung it in my left arm—once, twice, three times. Blood flowed into the silver basin, and in the moonlight, the blood turned black.

I added some powder to the basin, which was hidden in the vial that hung around my neck. That's a brown dust, made from sun-dried herbs, a special toad skin, and a few other things. The powder thickens the blood and prevents it from clotting.

I picked up the three apples one by one and gently punctured the skin of the apples with my silver needle. Then I put the apples in a silver bowl and let them sit there quietly, while the first gust of goose feather snow of the year slowly crept against my skin, on the apples, and into the pool of blood.

At dawn, when the sky was bright, I put on my gray robe, took three apples from the silver bowl with silver tongs, and put them in the basket one after the other, careful not to touch them. Aside from a few black residues that resembled patina, there was not a trace of my blood or brown powder on the surface of the silver bowl.

I buried the silver bowl in the dirt. Then I recited a spell at the apples (just as I had once said to myself while standing by the bridge), and lo and behold, they became the most beautiful apples in the world, no doubt; The dark blush on the skin of the apple is the warm blush of fresh blood.

I pulled down the hood of my robe to cover my face, took some ribbons and a beautiful headdress, rested them on top of the apples in a wicker basket, and walked alone into the forest to her abode: a high sandstone cliff surrounded by many deep caves, and it took a long time to reach the rock wall at the end of the cave.

The surface of the cliff was covered with trees and large boulders, and I walked quietly among the trees, trying not to touch the branches or trample on the fallen leaves. I finally found a place to hide, and I waited patiently while I watched carefully.

After a few hours, several gnomes crawled out of the cave in front of the cavern. They are ugly, misshapen, hairy dwarfs who are the ancient inhabitants of this country. Nowadays, you have a rare opportunity to meet them.

They disappeared into the woods, and no one noticed me, though one of the dwarves stopped to pee on the rock where I was hiding.

I waited patiently. No more dwarves came out of the hole.

I came to the entrance of the cave, and shouted loudly into the cave with a hoarse voice.

She emerged from the darkness, naked and alone. She approached me, and the scar on the mound of Venus in my palm throbbed rhythmically.

She, my stepdaughter, was now thirteen years old, and her snow-white skin was flawless and blemish-free, except for a purple scar on her left breast. The scar was the one she had her heart stripped of a long time ago.

There were black stains between her legs.

She stared at me intently, and I was hidden in my robe. She looked hungry and looked at me greedily. "Girl, sell ribbons!" I said in a hoarse voice, "Pretty ribbon, I can tie your hair ......"

She smiled and beckoned to me. a powerful suction; The scar on my palm pushed me towards her. I did what I had planned, but I did it more naturally than I had planned: I dropped the basket and let out a scream like an old woman selling groceries. I deliberately pretended to be like that, and then, I ran away.

The gray robe on my body was the same color as the forest, and I walked fast; She didn't come after me.

I made my way back to the palace.

What happened later, I didn't see with my own eyes. Let's guess that Snow White returned to the cave with a depressed and hungry face, and caught a glimpse of the basket I had dropped on the ground.

What did she do?

I was glad to think so: she played with the ribbons for a while, tied them with a pair of bows around the black crow's hair, and wrapped the ribbons around her pale neck, or else around her slender wrists.

Then, out of curiosity, she lifted the fabric to see what was in the basket; She saw the three apples, bright red apples.

They have the aroma of fresh apples, of course; They also smell of blood. And she was hungry. I guess she picked up an apple and pressed it against her cheek, feeling the coolness and smoothness with her skin.

Then, she opened her mouth and took a hard bite of the apple......

By the time I got back to the dormitory, the heart that hung from the beams of the room with apples, ham, and sausages had stopped beating. The heart hung silently, motionless, without a hint of life, and I felt safe again.

That winter, a layer of snow accumulated on the ground, and it did not melt for a long time. Everyone is eagerly looking forward to the arrival of spring.

The spring market will be slightly larger in size for the coming year. Although the number of mountain people who came to the market was small, there were some, and tourists from the other side of the forest also appeared.

I noticed that the savage dwarfs from the forest caverns had also come to the market, wanting to buy pieces of broken glass, crystal blocks, and quartz stones at a bargain price. They paid in copper coins - no doubt, it was the trophy of my stepdaughter, Snow White. When they came to the stalls to buy something, the townspeople rushed home, coming out with their lucky crystals, and a few people bringing whole pieces of glass.

As soon as I thought about it, I really wanted to put them to death, but I still didn't do it. As long as that heart is silent, motionless, and cold on the beams of my dormitory, I am safe, and the inhabitants of the forest and, by extension, the towns.

In the twenty-fifth year of my life, the year after my stepdaughter Snow White ate the poisoned apple, the prince came to my palace. He was tall, with cold green eyes, and his skin was the light black of the man on the other side of the mountain.

He rode with a handful of retinues: they were enough to protect him from another king, like me, who would see him as a potential threat.

I am a very practical person: I want to unite our two nations, I think of the vast expanse that spreads from the forest to the sea to the south, I think of my bearded blonde lover, who has been dead for eight years; In the evening, I went to the prince's bedchamber.

I'm no longer an innocent child, even though my former husband, the man who was once my king, is my true first love, so let them say whatever they want.

At first, the prince seemed excited. He ordered me to take off my clothes, and told me to stand in front of the open window, away from the fire, and my skin grew as cold as stone. Then he told me to lie on my back, my hands folded over my chest, and my eyes wide open—staring straight at the beams above my head. He ordered me not to move and to hold my breath as much as possible. He begged me not to say anything. He parted my legs.

Subsequently, he entered my body.

He began to jerk inside me, and I found myself raising my hips and began to follow his movements, spinning and squeezing. I uttered ** out of my mouth. I couldn't help myself.

His ** slipped out of me. I reached for it, a small, slender and smooth thing.

"Please," he whispered, "don't move, don't speak." Just lie on that rock, so cold, so beautiful. ”

I did, but he had lost the urge to make him look manly; Soon I left the prince's bedchamber, still stained with his tears on my face and his curses still ringing in my ears.

Early the next morning, he left with all his retinue. They rode their horses towards the forest.