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“Right away my Queen.” He looked in the box, then his eyes shot back up to me, but he didn’t speak. “Will the King be dining with you?” He asked with a slight stutter.

“Not tonight. He is still resting. He’s taking his daughter’s betrayal so hard.”

“Of course,” he nodded, and exited as quickly as he came.

I looked at the huntsman. “Good work indeed. The woman who brought you in will get the rest of your money.”

“I will leave you to your dinner, then.” He bowed and started backing away.

“Nonsense. You will stay and celebrate.”

His lips pinched. “Very well Queen.”I ignored the grimace hiding behind his eyes. He should be lucky to have dinner with someone as beautiful as I am.

He took a seat at the table, several chairs down from me.

“Tell me huntsman. What do you like to do?”

“I like to hunt, Queen.”

“You know.” My finger tapped on my chin. “I have ignored the fact you never call me ‘My’ Queen. Am I not your Queen?”

“You are… my Queen.”

I nodded my head up and down.

“Very well.”

The chef came out a moment later with a platter adorned in a variety of garden vegetables and in the center were two perfectly cooked pieces of meat, waiting for me to sink my teeth into. The excitement building within me was nearly untamable. I felt like I was going to explode.

I picked up my fork and knife and cut into the heart and it sliced through like melted butter. I cut a small piece off and held it to my lips.

“Good bye Snow.” I placed it on my tongue and slowly began to chew.

I watched the Huntsman look at me, with no expression on his face. “Care for a piece?”

He shook his head. “No thank you, my Queen.”

“Very well.” I batted my hand in the air. “Chef. Get him whatever he would like. We are celebrating tonight.”

The huntsman waved his hand. “I will take what you have here.”

“That is just potatoes and vegetables.”

“I have eaten just a bit ago.”

I sighed in minor irritation. It would be hard to ruin my mood tonight. “Fine.” I backhanded the air.

I cleaned the tray and felt quite full. I touched my skin and felt it was tighter than before. “Amazing.”

“Thank you my Queen.” The chef said over my shoulder.

I rolled my eyes and was in too good of a mood to tell him I was talking about my skin rather than his cooking. I felt it was lacking, tasty, a bit more gamey than the other hearts I’ve had in the past. I imagine it was his inexperience.

“Well, I must be going now, my Queen.”

“So soon?” I stood up and swayed over to him.

“Yes. I must get home to feed my dog.”