Snow White and the Seven Souls
Sifrod

Sifrod was accustomed to entering Arandell’s house unannounced. Her schedule varied daily, and he was never quite sure if he would find her there when he arrived. They were close, and he felt more comfortable around her than any other person on Earth. On this occasion he held in one hand a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in cloth, still warm from the baker’s. He had a bunch of wildflowers tucked under his arm as well. He had collected them himself on his way there.

The young man’s ginger hair was gloriously unruly and wild, sticking up at irregular intervals as it curled into the air. People often found themselves thinking of star-bursts, or starfish, when they looked at him. He was a simple man; humble and unassuming, kind and gentle. Shy, too, as if he felt there was some apology needed for his existence. An outward sign of this was that he tended to stutter. When he was with Arandell, he barely stuttered at all.

Though he was neither the most attractive nor the cleverest man around, he was a good match for Arandell and they were very often found in each other’s company.

For those reasons, it was not only Snow who was surprised when Sifrod entered the little house on the edge of the village by the fish pond on that perfect summer’s afternoon. He had certainly not expected the Princess to be there. This caused some initial awkwardness, after which he cordially offered to make her a cup of tea.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she admitted. “Perhaps I should leave you to your plans,” she said, referring to the flowers which now lay beside an empty jug that would serve as a vase.

“Oh, that’s... well,” he blushed and giggled gently, thinking of his lady love. “I-I know Arandell would be sore displeased with me if I let you go without s-so much as a c-cup. H-hospitality an’ all, you see.” He smiled and set to work getting the fire going and putting the heavy iron kettle on its hook in the hearth. The day was warm enough, but the people on the mountain rarely let a day go by without having a cup of tea. It was like breathing to them.

Snow watched him as worked, contemplating her next move. “Tell me about yourself,” she said.

“Ah, well there’s not much to tell, Y-your Highness. I’m from the village, just ten minutes that way down the road. L-lived here all my life. I help out the shopkeepers with errands ‘cos I know pretty much everyone. That’s how I met Arandell. Always seeing her moving about town same as I do, workin’ for whoever needs us. It’s a great place to live, an’ for that you have my thanks.” The young man gave Snow a little bow. He seemed to relax as he talked about familiar things.

“H-how did you and Arandell meet, Your Highness?” Sifrod felt comfortable enough to ask, seeing as any friend of Arandell’s was a friend of his.

“We haven’t, yet,” the Princess replied.

“Oh... my mistake. It’s just that you... you were in here. When I got here.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know her.”

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This confused Sifrod, who busied himself with pouring the tea as the back of his mind processed the information.

“Oh, so you’ve come to offer Arandell some w-work? Good idea. Yes, yes. She is the best thatcher there is, I’d wager. Best there is,” he said. “...though come to think of it, just how much thatching is there called for up at the palace? I’ve never b-been there m-myself.”

Snow liked Sifrod. She liked him very much. She thought that he had something she lacked. Perhaps it was fate that brought her here, after all.

“Sifrod, you said your name was?”

“Y-yes.”

“Sifrod, I’d like you to check my eyes for something, please. Come here, round the table.” Snow stood up, and the young man did what he was told. The Princess was nearly the same height as her host.

“Is there something stuck in your eyes? That can be a bother, for sure. I-I usually find that it’s nothing more than an eyelash in the end.”

“What do you see? Anything?” Snow inquired.

“M-my, these are the blackest eyes I think I have ever seen.”

“And?”

“There’s something familiar, isn’t there? Anyway I don’t see any loose eyelashes.” Apparently Sifrod had something of an immunity to the pull of Snow’s eyes, for he saw only what was on the surface.

“That’s a mercy. Thank-you,” Snow touched the collar of his shirt. “What interesting material, what is it made of?”

Sifrod had the chance to take a last breath in preparation for his reply, but Snow struck out teeth-first into his neck before he had the chance to say another word.

--

When Arandell finally arrived home, Sifrod was gone. She knew that he had been there, because he had put the wildflowers in a jug of water and left the loaf of bread behind.

He had also left two full mugs of tea. The tea was cold.

A logical explanation was that he had expected her home sooner, and had to leave for some other errand. The couple often had tea together, but Arandell found it odd that he would have poured it out for her before she even arrived home.

The evening went on slowly as the thatcher awaited Sifrod’s return. Night came, and then a whole day passed, and still there was no sign of him. Arandell took to searching the village and the woods for any sign of her love. The forest is where she met the huntsman.

Arandell told Mr. Tredwell everything she knew about Sifrod’s disappearance. His expression grew clouded and Arandell forced him to tell her what he was thinking.

“There have been three other disappearances, I’m afraid,” the huntsman said. “Dalor, the palace librarian, Gaius from the tavern, and the cobbler, Quinn. They all appear to have been taken from their homes. Are you certain that you did not see anyone?”

“No one. Mr. Tredwell, we really must find Sifrod... I shall be unable to rest until we do. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Bolt your door, day and night. Whether you are home or not. And take care not to allow yourself to be surprised. Even the fairest of them all cannot be trusted.”

The thatcher returned home feeling uneasy and heartsick. When she got to her little house she bolted the door, latched the windows, crawled into bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Then she had a good, long cry.

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