The Throne of Ivory and Snow

You can describe Sam as a bibliophile. He was known to be like his father. Both always have their noses inside of a book, but that’s not all Sam is described to be. Just like his grandmother, Sam was beautiful. Black curls the color of ink, skin the color of cold milk and lips red as the petals on a rose. According to whispers that Sam was used to hearing on the streets, his beauty was scared by his broken spectacles that sat on the bridge of his nose.

While he was in the middle of his book, his grandmother ran in looking disheveled. She was wearing a flowy white dress and her dark hair was in a braid with small red flowers woven in. She set her books on the table and sighed in relief. Even in a disheveled mess, his grandmother still managed to look flawless. In other words, Sam was slightly annoyed.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked. He closed his book and set it aside. He pushed up his broken glasses carefully and watched as his grandmother started pulling out books from the shelves.

“Nothing really,”

Sam cocked his head to the side. “Is there anything I could do to help?” He asked.

His grandmother shook her head.

“It’s fine, Sammy.”

“Mother!”

Sam looked over and saw his father coming in through the library doors. He was holding a few old books in his hands and a map tucked into his arm.

His father, King Simon was just as beautiful. He inherited his father’s wavy brown hair and his father’s dark skin, as well as his stoic and his stubborn personality. According to his mother (before she fell ill and passed away), he was kind, but bone headed at times. He wore glasses like Sam too, but his glasses were more thick and rectangular.

“Simon!” She shouted cheerfully as she ran to greet her son. Sam gave his father a nod and a little wave. He picked up his book again, pretending not to hear their conversation.

“Mother, I have news,”

This caught Sam’s attention. He turned the page slowly, pretending to read. He could hear his grandmother and his father whispering to each other. The one word (more or less of a name) that caught his attention was “The Evil Queen”. Sam nervously tapped his foot against the leg of the table.

“Samuel!” His father called. Sam cringed. He hated the sound of his full name.

He set his book down on his desk and shuffled over towards his father. Up close, his father was an intimidating man. His dark eyes were known to pierce through another, looking at any weak points to take anyone down; whether it’s verbally or physically.

“I think you’re old enough to listen in on a court meeting.”

Sam’s eyes lit up. He’d always wanted to sit in and listen to the Queen’s Court (or as his mother used to call it the Ivory Court). He remembered when he was five he would sit on the balcony that sits over the hall, listening to the Court members fighting and arguing (his mother being the peacekeeper). To this day he still can’t believe that no one noticed him at all.

“Really?” He asked, trying to contain his excitement. He was on the verge of bursting with joy, he was even bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah, you’re eighteen now. Your grandmother didn’t let me join until I was your age, might as well keep the tradition alive.”

Sam excitedly followed his father towards the Court Hall and already there were a few people there. There was Little Red Riding Hood (who prefers to go by Red now), his other grandmother Cinderella, Rapunzel, Beauty, Sleeping Beauty, Jack, and Robin Hood. Sam took his seat between his father and his grandfather.

“Hello, Prince Samuel.” Red said with a smile. Red was an African American woman with curly hair, dark skin and dark brown eyes. She was Sam’s favorite out of all the Court members. She would always let him try a new pastry, and give him old books to keep.

“Good morning, Red.” He never needed to correct Red when she called him by his full name. The way she says it, it was never filled with anger, disappointment, pity, or sadness. Almost the same way his father did.

“Finally,” another voice chimes in. There sitting across from him was Robin Hood. “Little Sammy has joined the Court.”

“Not really joining just yet, just observing.” His father explained.

“Either way, it’s nice to see the future king,” Robin smiled and winked.

“He’s not king yet, Robin.”

Sam rolled his eyes. It’s true he’s not king yet, just a few more months (three to be exact) and he would be crowned king.

“Alright, let’s get this meeting started.”

His grandmother walked into the room and all eyes were on her. Everyone, including Sam stood up in respect and bowed.

“Good morning your highness,” Rapunzel said with a bright and sunny smile.

“Good morning everyone.” His grandmother said with much enthusiasm, her smile brightening up the room. Better than the morning sun.

“Now, first order of business,”

This is where Sam kind of zoned out. It was noting important really, just talks about the neighboring kingdoms and the recent birth of Robin’s daughter, Ruby.

“Second order of business.” Her voice made the mood of the room change from light hearted, to cold, dark, and serious. Sam sat up and scooted closer.

“We’ve recently caught the Evil Queen’s son,” King Simon started.

The room broken into soft murmurs. King Simon raised his hand, waiting for the room to go quiet. Sam looked at his grandmother nervously. Everyone was aware that the Evil Queen has a son (around Sam’s age), but doesn’t know what he’s capable of.

King Simon pulled out a small, leather, black bound book and placed it on the table. Sam and the rest of the court leaned in to get a closer look.

“Is that?” Rapunzel started.

“Yes,”

“Why was he trying to steal it?” Sam asked.

“We’re not sure,” King Simon reached over and grab the book. He slipped the book in the pocket of his jacket.

“She could be up to something,” Grandma Cinderella explained.

“Hence why, my son is here.”

What does he mean by that?

“What?” Sam asked.

“I want you to spy on him, befriend him, see what he and his mother are up to.” King Simon explained.

Sam was trying to hide his anger and the feeling of betrayal burning in his chest. He took a deep breathe.

“Fine,” he said with some venom in his words.