One Rotten Apple: Dark Heart Forest Fairy Tales

By Alannah Foley

Dastardly deeds meet love, hope & humour in this fantasy adventure, a fairy tale sequel imagining of Snow White.

 

ONE ROTTEN APPLE

 

A standalone book in the Dark Heart Forest Fairy Tales Series.

 

After biting into a dodgy apple and being given the kiss of life by a handsome prince, Princess Snow White of Oldmanland agrees to a whirlwind engagement. But it soon dawns on her that she's not in love after all.

 

With mounting pressure from an expectant public poised for a royal wedding, along with the discovery that she's pregnant, Princess Snow flees from the baying paparazzi and goes on the run.

 

But can she ever find peace and know what true love is?

 

Find out in One Rotten Apple, a twisted sequel imagining of the Snow White fairy tale.

 

(Approx. length 70k.)

 

ABOUT the Author's Fairy Tale Fiction

 

If you love stories with a blend of adventure, humour, romance, and a touch of magic thrown in, then the author's fairy tale-inspired fiction is for you.

 

Written for adults, stories often call into question the 'facts' of the original tales. So whether you're reading a reimagining of a tale or an imagined sequel, it'll come with some intriguing twists.

 

Featuring strong female leads, each story has a flavour all its own, with varying shades of light and dark, and is set in a shared world, on the same continent, with the notoriously dangerous Dark Heart Forest at its centre. And although they can be read as standalones, you may spot a few overlaps with characters and places.

 

Books are written in British English and contain no sex or swearing. However, there may be occasional violence or content not suited to children.

 

So… ready for an adventure?

 

Get started NOW with One Rotten Apple!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pyjama Writer Publishing
• Release date: Aug 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201630843

Alannah Foley

Alannah Foley… aka 'The Pyjama Writer' Raised in the UK, Alannah lived in her Aussie birthplace for five years in her twenties, where mozzies regularly used her for target practice. She managed to return to Old Blighty devoid of shark or snake bite, however, and currently lives in picturesque Cornwall with her cycling-obsessed partner. Alannah is a multi-genre author who has published mysteries and other works of fiction as well as travel tales about her capers in a campervan and adventures Down Under. When she's not writing, Alannah likes to hit the trails on her bike, take walks in nature, and go kayaking – basically, anything that will get her butt out of the chair for a while that doesn't involve going to a sweaty old gym. Find out more about the author and where she got her Pyjama Writer nickname on her website at www.thePyjamaWriter.com/about.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Princess Snow found Doctor Rudy's nasal hairs mesmerising. They were as salt-and-peppery as his eyebrows, and so bushy and profuse that she wondered how he managed to get air up his nostrils to breathe.

Well, so far, it's looking like you've got a clean bill of health, Your Highness, he smiled as he sat across from her behind his large oak desk. In fact, after eating that dodgy apple, it's a miracle you're still alive. He glanced down at his notes. Apparently some old hag gave it to you…? You still don't recall who it was?

Snow's shoulders dropped. Oh, not this old chestnut! She'd been over and over this with doctors, with the royal security team, you name it. On top of which, she'd had umpteen tests over the past few weeks. She'd been poked and prodded on every part of her body. And by now, the whole thing was getting pretty tiring.

As I said, the woman was wearing a dark hooded cloak, so her face was in shadow and I didn't get a good look at her, Snow replied. She was just selling apples door to door – so she said – and was happy to give me a free sample.

She blew out. To be honest, Doctor Rudy, I can't tell you anything new. My memory's no clearer than it was the first day I stepped into your office. I still can't remember what happened after I took a bite of that apple. Anyway, you know the rest. I fell into some sort of coma, Prince Lawrance gave me the kiss of life, then my dwarf friends helped bring me back to his kingdom here in Haviland. Now the prince and I are to be married. End of, she shrugged.

The doctor raised an eyebrow. Kiss of life, eh? he thought. People still believe in some funny things, don't they? Even well-educated royalty. As you know, the prince was adamant that no expense should be spared in making sure we put you through a full battery of tests, so we're still waiting on some of the results, he said, but one of the theories my team of doctors has postulated is that the apple you ate may have been poisoned or drugged, that you didn't choke on it after all.

Snow frowned. Poisoned? Drugged? But who would want to…? She stopped short, a chill coursing through her as the truth hit home. But of course! She knew exactly who would want to do such a thing: her stepmother, Queen Mavis. After all, she'd already tried to have her killed once before, hadn't she?

Snow's mind cast back to the day when her father, King Barry White, ruler of the neighbouring realm of Oldmanland, had been away on a business trip, leaving her alone in the palace with her stepmother. Before she knew what was happening, she was knocked unconscious and bundled up into a sack. When she was let out, she found herself in the forest with one of the king's huntsmen.

She recalled the feelings of terror as he wielded a large dagger, ready to plunge it into her chest and end her life. All she could do was beg for mercy. Please! If you spare me, I'll leave and never come back, she cried.

But the queen has ordered this, the huntsman countered. Don't ask me why she wants you dead, but if I return to the palace without proof of your demise, she'll have my guts for garters.

Snow's thoughts were frantic. How was she going to wriggle out of this? I know! she said. Take back the heart of a wild boar. That will convince her I'm dead.

The huntsman ran a hand over his bristly beard as he considered her plea and weighed up the situation. It was more than his life was worth to cross the queen, but if the king ever found out what he'd done, he'd have him strung up quicker than lightning. So maybe the princess's plan was a cunning middle ground. He could avoid killing the king's only child and appease the queen all at the same time.

But there was just one problem.

Look, do you know how long it'll take me to kill a wild boar? I'm not exactly equipped, he said, glancing down at his dagger. I didn't bring my bow and arrow.

Well, there are plenty of pigs in the royal farmyard. Couldn't you just take the heart from one of those? Snow suggested.

The huntsman nodded. All right. I'll do it… But only if you promise never to return to the kingdom, he said, taking pity on her.

Snow agreed. It would be a win-win all round.

The huntsman was just about to leave when a thought occurred to him. He straightened his collar and cleared his throat. Err… How's about a kiss?… As a reward for letting you go, like, he said, trying his luck. After all, he had just spared her life, hadn't he?

Snow prodded him in the chest. "Don't push it, mister! I might be in a sticky situation here, but I'm not that desperate. Anyway, you're old enough to be my father," she said, folding her arms.

The huntsman's shoulders dropped. Well, can't say I didn't try. I mean, you're a fair beauty, and…

Snow tapped her foot. Are you still here? Go on! Scoot!

The huntsman left, and for hour upon weary hour, Snow made her way through the forest looking for somewhere to take shelter. It wasn't until nightfall that she stumbled upon a cottage where a bunch of dwarfs lived, by which time she practically fainted on their doorstep from hunger and thirst. If it hadn't been for them, she would never have survived.

Until that moment in the doctor's office, it had never occurred to Snow that her stepmother might have had anything to do with her falling into a coma. Had she somehow found out that the huntsman had let her go? If so, she would surely have come looking for her. Was it possible she'd found out where she was and disguised herself as an old hag carrying a basket of apples – poisoned apples?

She remembered the day the old hag had called round at the dwarfs' cottage. Standing there on the doorstep, she had offered her a sample of one of the apples. Try before you buy, dear? But Snow was wary. Fearing her life might still be in danger, the dwarfs had warned her about opening the door to strangers or letting them in. So when she refused a sample, the old hag had offered to eat half of one of the apples, just to show her it was safe.

She took one from the basket that looked delicious and sweet. It was red on one side, green on the other. The old hag took a juicy bite from one side and handed it to Snow. By now, she felt safe enough to eat, so she took the apple and bit in.

All too briefly, an image flashed through Snow's mind as she sat in the doctor's office. What was it? Something she saw in that last moment on the doorstep before she dropped. Snow closed her eyes, trying to remember. There was something shiny… Something tucked beneath the hag's cloak that caught her eye when it glinted. A necklace. Yes! That's it.

In that fleeting moment, she'd recognised it. Oh, my goodness! That's Mavis's necklace! It had been a special gift given to her by the king for her birthday. The jewels were unmistakable.

But Snow's shocking realisation came too late. Before she could do anything, she'd dropped like a sack of coal onto the doorstep. The dwarfs found her lying there when they came home, and Doc, the medic dwarf who owned the cottage, pronounced her dead – although Doctor Rudy seemed to think she had actually been in a coma so deep it would've been almost impossible to tell the difference.

Meanwhile, Doc's six tenant dwarfs placed her in a glass coffin and kept her close by in the woods. Had it not been for the prince passing through on a hunting trip, she would never have been revived. At least, that's how she understood it.

Snow's eyelids fluttered as the stark realisation of all this hit her, but Doctor Rudy was too busy sifting through his notes to pick up on her distress. What am I to do? she wondered. I have no proof that my stepmother tried to kill me. At this point, it would be one person's word against another.

Snow decided it was best to stay quiet on the whole subject for the time being. But at least now she could piece together what had happened. Her stepmother had tracked her down and tried to finish the job herself. Just how she had managed to find her was a mystery, though. She had sworn Doc and his six lodgers to secrecy; they knew that divulging her identity and whereabouts could endanger her life.

The doctor looked up from his notes and shook his head. Really! I can't imagine anyone would want to harm such a delightful creature as yourself – if you don't mind me saying, Your Highness. His tufty nasal hairs seemed like tentacles trying to reach out to her as he beamed another avuncular smile. Anyway, I'm sure we'll eventually get to the bottom of all this, he added. Meantime, make sure you get plenty of rest, won't you?

Rest? As if! she thought. How am I supposed to get any of that? If she wasn't at the infirmary having tests, she was trying to fend off the ever-pestering paparazzi or being forced to fuss over wedding plans with her future mother-in-law, bless her.

Doctor Rudy took a cigar from the top pocket of his white jacket, lit it, and sat back in his leather chair, blowing out a satisfied puff. Everything's looking tickety-boo so far… In fact, congratulations appear to be in order, he said.

Congratulations?

That's right, my dear – you're pregnant. That would certainly explain your fainting spells… My goodness, your fiancé certainly is a fast worker, isn't he? the doctor chuckled. About time the playboy Prince Lawrance settled down, he thought. And he could certainly do a lot worse than Princess Snow. Not only was she a raven-haired beauty but she had royal blood to boot.

Even so, her situation wasn't entirely a bed of roses. According to the press, there were a few issues bubbling away in the family closet. Her stepmother wasn't a mentally well woman, and recently, there'd been some sort of rift between the king and his daughter. Which might explain why she recently went missing from Oldmanland. Mind you, it never pays to believe everything you read in the news scrolls, he thought. Half of it's a load of codswallop.

A deep furrow appeared on Snow's brow. "I'm pregnant? Are you sure, Doctor? I mean…"

Absolutely! Ran the test twice – did it myself, just to be certain. He blew out another puff of smoke and glanced down at his notes. Ooh! Looks like you've also got some nasty weeping boils on your…

Snow loosened the florid scarf around her neck, oblivious to his words. Is it hot in here, or is it just me?

Doctor Rudy put his head down and started scrawling something with his Forever quill.

Can we… Can we keep all this just between the two of us, Doctor – just for the moment? Snow stammered. I just… I just need some time to think…

Of course, of course, he muttered, waving vaguely with his cigar hand as he continued to write with the other. Now then, I'm making out a couple of prescriptions here: one for morning sickness – just in case – and one for those nasty old boils. We'll need to keep on top of those. Don't want them to turn septic, eh? he added, sounding oddly casual.

When he looked up again, the colour had drained from Snow's face.

Goodness! Are you all right, Princess Snow?

Then her body went limp, and everything faded to black…

Chapter 2

Take a chill-pill, will you!? Sophie said with a huff. You're like a skittish mare. No one's going to find us in this secluded little inn.

Snow made sure her long locks were tucked well under her red woolly hat then raised the dark sunglasses from her eyes, scanning the area for signs of journalists. "It doesn't pay to let your guard down with these bloodsuckers, Sophie. It's just as well we were meeting up today and you could pick me up in your carriage. I don't know how I would've given them the slip outside the infirmary otherwise. Those reporters are like a pack of ravenous wolves on the prowl for fresh meat. You know, they haven't given me a moment's rest since the prince proposed and took me back to his palace."

Look, stop worrying! Sophie tutted. Anyway, what's with the strange spectacles you're wearing?

"They're called sunglasses, if you must know, Snow replied. I got them in the city – they're a new invention."

"Some invention! There's no sun in here."

Well, of course not, but they make an excellent disguise, don't you think?

"Hmm… If you ask me, you'll draw more attention to yourself, wearing those things indoors, Sophie said. Anyway, now that Christmastide and the New Year are over, it's the off season. And as you can plainly see, the place is practically deserted."

Snow propped the glasses onto her head and blew out. I suppose you're right, she conceded. Still, there was no way she was getting too comfy. Her red cloak was staying on.

Sophie flicked her wavy blond curls back over her shoulder and leaned in. So, come on! she enthused. We haven't had a proper catch-up since you got engaged, what with all these tests you've been having and all your wedding plans. So… spill the beans about the prince, then! I haven't come all the way from Oldmanland for nothing.

Sitting in an armchair next to the hearth, where a welcoming fire was burning, Snow stared into the flames. Actually, there's not much to tell. Every morning, he gives me a peck on the cheek and whooshes out the door after breakfast spouting some excuse or other about having to deal with a crisis with his gold mine. I've hardly seen the guy.

Sophie frowned. That doesn't sound very romantic. I thought you said he'd got down on one knee to propose then swept you off to his palace. I was expecting to hear stories about hearts and flowers, that kind of thing.

Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, Snow sighed, but quite honestly, Sophie, I'm having second thoughts about getting married.

"Are you kidding? What's not to like? Prince Lawrance of Haviland is the dishiest hunk around. He's got a huge yacht off the coast of Monarcho, not to mention oodles of dosh… Just marry the guy! If nothing else, you'll be in the lap of luxury in his palace, back to the sort of life you've always been used to. She flopped a hand. So he's a workaholic! What do you care? Gives you plenty of time to get your hair and nails done, I say. She peered down at her long talons, painted with frosty snowflakes. Of course, if you really don't want him, pass him on to me. I'd snap him up in a heartbeat," she said playfully.

You're more than welcome to him, Snow shrugged.

"Oh, come on, Snow, you don't really mean that."

Noticing a servant boy approaching, Snow slipped the sunglasses back down over her eyes and turned away from him. Sophie rolled her eyes. Talk about paranoid! The servant boy served up their drinks and disappeared without a flicker of recognition for Snow.

Sophie lifted her steaming cup of tea and leaned in as Snow rested the sunglasses back on her forehead. "Look, royal life is your birthright, Snow. Surely you don't want to go back to being shacked up with a bunch of dwarfs in the forest – do you? I mean, for a start off, they're Outliers."

Outliers – that was the name given to people from Dark Heart Forest, the great forest at the heart of the continent. Outliers were so called because they lived outside the legal bounds of the various surrounding realms. None had ever been able to claim ownership of the forest, so it belonged to everyone and no one. It was a shared territory, a no man's land.

Many years ago, the continent's realms decided to make their citizens pay taxes – a decree that became enshrined in law – but Outliers didn't have to because, within the forest bounds, no laws applied and so none could be enforced.

Unfortunately for the dwarfs, the Dark Heart Forest they had once known as a lovely place to live soon became a haven for lawbreakers and people seeking to evade their taxes. And, like many who had resided there for years, they were stigmatised, treated with disdain and lumped in with all the outlaws and degenerates.

Look, I was like you once, Sophie – I thought Outliers must be terrible people, that they were all criminals. But I was wrong. They're not all built the same, you know. I had a lot of fun while I stayed with the dwarfs, she replied with a longing smile.

Sophie's brow creased. "Fun? What, living cheek by jowl in some grungy hovel with a sweaty scrum of blokes – and dwarfs at that? That's not my idea of fun, I can tell you!"

"It wasn't like that, Sophie – not in the least. The fellow who owns the place, Doc, he's gay, and he certainly lives up to the stereotype: the place was spotless and tidy when I came on the scene. In fact, he was so fastidious, he soon put me right when I didn't clean things thoroughly enough. Mind you, I think he was glad to have me around. The dwarfs who lodge with him were a bit of a handful. They worked at Gold Soak mine, and they were like a bunch of teenagers to pick up after."

"What? You… were cleaning for them? Like a common servant girl? You're having a laugh, aren't you?"

Snow shook her head. "Not at all. I mean, I had to do something to pay my way, didn't I?" she explained.

Sophie raised en eyebrow. "Huh! You wouldn't get me doing domestic chores."

Well, as a royal, I don't exactly come equipped with too many transferable skills, do I? Snow argued. It's a bit of a rude awakening to find out that a classical education and experience of dog breeding doesn't get you very far in the real world, I can tell you… Anyway, they were full to the rafters in that tiny little place of theirs, so I couldn't expect Doc to put me up for nothing, could I?

Suppose not, Sophie sighed. What she still couldn't quite fathom was why Snow had gone missing in the first place. As far as she'd been able to gather, she'd had some spat with her stepmother and left an angry note telling her father not to come looking for her. To Sophie, it seemed an extreme reaction, even for Snow. And now, she wasn't sure if the situation was still a sore point or not. Snow had never got on with her stepmother, so she decided to avoid the subject for now and keep things light.

Hey, I'd love to have been a fly on the wall, Sophie tittered. I can just picture you on your hands and knees, scrubbing the floors. Haha! I'd never figure you'd sink so low in a million years. The press would have a field day if they found out.

Snow leaned forward and gritted her teeth. "Well, they're not going to find out – not unless someone squeals, she said, wrenching at Sophie's dress collar. Lawrance has been sworn to secrecy."

Sophie's eyes widened. Blimey, Snow! What's come over you?

Snow backed off, realising she was over-reacting. This whole thing had got her wound up so tight, she felt she might snap.

Sophie brushed herself off. Come on! We've known each other since kindergarten, she said, then made a zipping motion across her mouth. My lips are sealed – you know that.

Snow blew out. Look, I know how things appear from the outside, she said, softening. Life with the dwarfs certainly wasn't without its downsides, but I'll say one thing for those guys: they accepted me for who I was, not because I was some princess. I didn't even tell them who I was at first and they treated me as an equal.

Hmm… Looks like that was your mistake right there, Sophie said. If you'd told them you were a princess right from the start, you wouldn't have got lumbered with all the cleaning.

Well, I didn't know if I could trust them at first, did I? Snow countered. "Anyway, after the dwarfs took me to Lawrance's palace, they were offered big bucks by the press to tell them where I'd been and what I'd been doing, but not one of them breathed a word about our life together. And in this day and age, that's saying something."

She looked wistful then. You know, on the weekend, we'd have parties at the dwarfs' cottage, parties like you've never seen… Dopey and Sleepy would play the fiddle and accordion like there was no tomorrow – it was about the only time they seemed to come to life – and everyone would dance and get slaughtered… And you should have seen the party tricks. When he got drunk, Bashful wasn't so bashful, either – he'd start making these loud parping noises with his armpit.

Sophie raised an eyebrow. Sounds hilarious – not! I'll stick with my magiscreen for entertainment, thanks.

Trust me, their parties were a stark relief from those stuffy old balls my dad holds, with their classical music and proper manners. Snow took a sip of her tea then shook her head. "Quite honestly, I don't know how I put up with it for so many years, she sighed. I didn't realise how suffocating royal life was until I was out of it. You know, Dad was always trying to pair me off, arrange a marriage with some regal fop or other."

Sophie rolled her eyes. Yeah, it sure is a drag having to choose which good-looking prince or king to marry, she said with mock sympathy.

"That's all right for you to say, Sophie. You try being in my shoes."

"What do you mean: 'Try being in my shoes'? I was once – remember? My father tried marrying me off to Prince Romeo of Dalmashia, and look how that turned out! I thought everything was going swimmingly, but no sooner had we kissed, he got cold feet and cut off our engagement. Reckoned I had something wrong with my windpipe and spoke with a nasal whistle… The cheek of it! Sophie let out a sigh. I don't know! The only time I ever got close to marrying a prince and it ends in disaster!"

Look, I gave you fair warning about getting involved with him, didn't I? Snow said. "When my father set us up on a date, it was obvious Romeo wasn't keen on me having my own opinions, so I'm surprised you got as far as you did. I mean, you're even more mouthy than me."

"Mouthy?"

"You heard me. Anyway, I wouldn't take anything that little rat said to heart. He might be good-looking, but what a bag of wind – he's too full of his own self-importance. And talk about playing the field!"

"Yeah, but Snow… Whistleblower, he called me! I still haven't got over it – and neither has my father. He gave up trying to set me up after that."

Thank your lucky stars, I say. I feel like I'm being traded like a piece of meat, like my father's using me to try and strike up a deal with a foreign land… it's either that, or he's desperate to get rid of me.

"Come on, Snow, your dad's always doted on you. Wish mine showed me half as much affection. He cares more about politics and breeding horses than