The pie was so closed to being done- just a few more minutes to finish baking thil everything would be caramelized and crisped perfectly. Snow loved morning sliek these, were everything outside the cottage was calm and still and everything inside was warm and buzzing with humble life. She felt at home next to the furnace- the smell and the heat enwrapping her. Even though sheād been taught to bake in the worst year of her life, it was still a fond memory for her.Ā
The same woman who had taught her how to fold the crust correctly, and slice the apples to proper size was the woman who had snuck her out of the castle. She was the only person who didnāt think the plan was crazy. Although it had been devised by mere children it was possible. And as Snow looked out the window of the feeble shelter which she now called home she silently thanked that woman in her head.Ā
As for her accomplice, Snow made sure to thank him every day. Whether it was verbally or not. They had both lived blessed childhoods, with people who loved and cared for them. But at the turn of the first decade in their lives things changed. With death there came pain, and the pain only seemed to multiply. Pain makes some cruel, and both Snow and Adam were victim to that cruelty. So they escaped, they devised a plan, held each other hands, and fled to the woods.Ā
And here they were ten years later, passing as poor folk in the woods. Of course Snow still had some earrings and necklace stashed to sell in case times got tough- but for now everything was peaceful. Snow gently pushed open the window to call through. Having not heard Adam moving about the house she figured he was outside, probably chopping more firewood.Ā āPie is ready!ā she said, her voice catching on the mid-morning breeze,Ā āBaked with just as much love as it is every day!ā
