From the largest cottage, a shape emerged. A man—or what had once been a man. His face was a ruin of scars. His hands were twisted, his back bent. He wore a miner’s helmet with a dead candle on the brim.
The scarred man—his name was Gregor—sat by her pallet, sharpening a knife. Snow White A Tale Of Terror
Lilia nodded.
Only darkness. The darkness of a girl who had chosen to become a monster to kill a monster. From the largest cottage, a shape emerged
Lilia’s.
Claudia was not beautiful in the way of the local noblewomen, with their soft chins and gentle eyes. She was beautiful like a frozen lake is beautiful: perfect, transparent, and hiding the drowned beneath. Her hair was the black of a raven’s wing, her lips the red of a fresh wound. When she stepped from the carriage, she did not look at the manor. She looked only at Lilia’s window. His hands were twisted, his back bent