"It's you... Snow White..."
The girl bit her lip, but didn't turn to the queen: "Mirror, do you always tell the truth?"
"Yes..." hissed the mirror, and the girl stepped back. Grimilde placed a hand on the princess's shoulder, startling her. "Do you believe me now?" she asked with a smile. At that moment, Snow White realized the priceless value of the object and longed to know every detail about the Talking Mirror. Yet she wondered if the queen would show leniency if she dared to ask too much. Could she risk it?
"What kinds of questions can be asked? Is it omniscient? How could it have such a—" Snow White stopped suddenly, realizing only then how close the queen had come. Grimhilde's hair brushed against her face, her lips moving not far from hers.
"You are a truly curious girl... and not very cautious, either." The queen's words jolted the princess back to her senses, and she lowered her gaze, suddenly feeling guilty. She had said—and asked—too much.
"Tell me, Snow White, with this information, what would you do? Is it only wonder? Can I trust you? These are things I cannot ask the mirror. It cannot see into the human soul, unfortunately." The queen draped the dark cloth over the magical object and moved back toward the terrace. Outside, the night sky was dark, scattered with small lights, some brighter than others. Grimilde had always been fascinated by the stars. In her homeland, astronomy was a studied art, and she had witnessed marvelous phenomena unseen in the southern regions of the continent.
"Your Majesty, I'm sorry." The princess began to apologize, but once again the queen surprised her. "I would ask a favor, if you will grant it." Grimilde's eyes glowed clear and bright in the interplay of shadow and candlelight within the vast royal chamber. Only a few candles were lit, steeping the atmosphere in quiet solitude. Snow White held her breath. She didn't know what to expect and was deeply intimidated by the queen's majestic presence.
"Of course. I will do whatever you wish." Snow White would never stop admiring her. She was truly just and good—or at least, with her, she was.
"Call me Grimilde when we are alone. Can you do that?" The queen's gaze was kind, and Snow White could not refuse. She nodded, smiling shyly, then felt embarrassed when the queen asked her to say it right then.
"Grimilde..." She forced herself to utter it. To speak the queen's name without reverence felt like stripping bare their relationship at court. It was personal, intimate. Snow White knew it would take time before she could feel at ease with such a change.
"If I may ask... Grimilde, why do you want me to call you by your name?" Snow White's gentle voice seemed to melt the queen's cold heart. Grimilde had been alone all her life—alone in spirit, alone at home, alone in a royal palace she had never truly wanted. For some reason, Snow White felt like a drop of honey after so much bitterness.
"I would like the chance to know you deeply, and to do that, we cannot be a queen and a princess. Too many rules and boundaries would stand between us, and our relationship would not be sincere."
The queen's words astonished Snow White. She had never expected such a request—friendship. That very morning she had wondered how she could approach the queen in a meaningful way, and now here was Grimhilde herself offering her hand.
"I would be truly honored, Grimilde." Snow White's small but sincere smile reassured the queen, who let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, she had feared rejection, even hatred. Perhaps she had thought the princess jealous of her position, as so many others would be. Yet here was proof that the people were right: Snow White truly was the most beautiful princess in the land— with her pale skin and red lips, was pure and soft as snow.
Another week had passed since the late-night meeting with the queen and Snow White's birthday celebration. The princess could now begin to assume her responsibilities, fulfill her duties, and, in time, even attend the councils the queen held with the kingdom's nobles. She knew she still had a long way to go before she could consider herself truly useful to Grimilde, but she was confident she would learn quickly. She longed to travel, to discover new lands, new cultures, foreign art, and hear the languages of other peoples. Often, her curiosity turned toward Grimilde's homeland. That day, during her meeting with the queen, she intended to ask as many questions as she was permitted—without burdening her, who was so busy of late.
"Her Majesty is waiting for you, Princess." The guards allowed her to pass into the queen's private garden without hesitation. Snow White was greeted by an enchanting sight: countless flowers filled the green space, with bushes of red, white, and even rare blue roses. The latter drew her attention most of all. She approached, smiling with delight, and bent to inhale their fragrance. The petals were truly soft beneath her pale fingers, and the midnight-blue blossoms contrasted beautifully with her delicate hands.
A few steps away, Grimilde watched her in silence, caught between amusement at the girl's almost childlike wonder and the profound admiration that stirred within her. Snow White's beauty was unparalleled, and in that garden of luminous blooms, she shone more brightly than them all. She wore a blue gown trimmed with lace at the bodice, her waist cinched to reveal her youthful curves. Grimilde had always marveled at Snow White's innocent beauty, but that day her gaze wandered further, and she thought her perfection could rival that of a goddess.
"Do you like them?" The queen's voice was gentle, though it startled the princess. Snow White looked up with a shy smile. "They are so beautiful. Where do they come from?"
"From my homeland, north of the continent," Grimilde replied, offering her hand. Snow White took it, and together they walked toward a white table set with tea and delicate confections. The princess noticed the absence of servants and hesitated.
"Grimilde... why are we alone?"
The queen waited until she had seated Snow White and poured the tea herself. Then, instead of taking the chair opposite, she sat close beside her. The princess blushed, intimidated by her nearness.
"I wanted to speak with you in private. Without wondering who might be listening. Does that trouble you?" The queen's piercing blue eyes searched the girl's face. Snow White seemed an open book at first glance, but she often revealed surprising depths.
Grimilde had known from their first meeting that she was an intelligent woman, always full of curiosity. She knew Snow White was a genuine and sincere person.
"No. On the contrary, I am happy to speak with you—anytime, in any circumstance." Snow White sipped the tea and smiled, finding it sweet to her taste. She couldn't help but ask how the queen knew of her fondness for sweets.
Grimilde paused, meeting her gaze as she raised her own cup, though her drink was darker in color. "Your eyes sparkle whenever you see something sweet. You wouldn't notice it yourself," she said with a faint smile, setting before Snow White a plate with a slice of cake. "Not everyone would catch such details."
"That's true... perhaps I notice because I watch you so often."
Grimilde hid a smile behind her cup, while Snow White felt her stomach twist nervously. Her fingers trembled as she lifted her fork, and her cheeks flushed.
"Are you well?" Grimilde asked softly. She found it refreshing, even thrilling, to see the princess blush so easily.
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you." Snow White forced herself to recover, continuing to eat and talk as if nothing had happened. Yet the queen's words lingered, filling her with an almost euphoric warmth.
Their talk turned to weightier matters: Grimilde began to share freely what was being discussed in the council of nobles. Snow White grew indignant when she heard that some lords, particularly Duke Helmholtz, had pressed the queen to arrange her marriage quickly—ideally with a foreign prince to secure an alliance. The thought of being treated as a bargaining piece filled her with anger.
"Perhaps I am selfish? I know I will have to marry for politics, not for love. But I've been confined to the castle all my life, and I wish for a little freedom before I am bound again."
Grimilde took her hand, stroking it gently. "You are not selfish. To be honest, I didn't wish to marry either. Too often we women are treated as means for men to gain power. It shouldn't be this way. They ask us to be obedient, to never question, to care for house and children... but we have the same rights as they do. At least, that is what I believe."
Snow White's heart swelled at the words. To find her own thoughts echoed by such a powerful, intelligent woman filled her with wonder. She realized then how hard Grimhilde had worked since the king's death to secure greater rights for all her subjects.
"Are we truly the only ones who think this way?" she whispered, her smile touched with sadness as she gazed at the queen's hand clasping her own.
"I am sure we are not alone," Grimilde sighed. "But society's chains, the patriarchy that binds us, do not allow others to speak openly. Change is possible, but it takes time. Sometimes it comes violently and shatters the past. Other times it is gradual, steady, and enduring."
Snow White listened, captivated. Her heart raced, and in that moment she thought the queen a miracle in herself. The gods had blessed Arran with a merciful and capable regent. Though many still believed her cold, Snow White knew what lay beneath that armor. Gathering courage, she leaned closer, still holding Grimilde's hand.
"If more people were like you, peace on this continent would not be far away."
The princess felt her heart hammering, her breath mingling with the queen's. Their eyes locked, and the world seemed to fall silent around them.