Snow White's eyes collided with Grimilde's stormy blue ones.
For some reason, the princess's lips quivered, as if anticipating something she herself could not yet name. Grimilde, however, found herself lost in the secret passion she had been nurturing for days—hiding it beneath envy and admiration, beneath the pleasure of the young woman's company and the sweetness of moments suspended in silence like the one they were now sharing.
Then footsteps echoed. Grimilde pulled away from Snow White and turned toward the garden entrance. A servant hurried forward, held back briefly by the guards.
"Your Majesty, a messenger has arrived who wishes to speak with you. He claims it is an urgent matter."
The boy, no older than twenty, bowed as the queen approached him. Snow White followed in silence, trying to push aside her disappointment.
"I apologize for this abrupt interruption… If possible, I would like us to continue our conversation this evening," the queen whispered in the princess's ear before heading toward the throne room. Snow White knew she would spend the rest of the day cloaked in anticipation.
Even her maids noticed her mood and wondered whom the princess was secretly meeting. A lover, perhaps? Mariella, gathering her courage, decided to ask:
"Princess, you seem happier than usual today."
Snow White studied her friend in the mirror as Mariella combed her hair. Rachel, meanwhile, was tidying the room.
"Snow White is always cheerful and smiling," Rachel said. "But today I see something more. Am I wrong, Princess?"
"Really, I don't know what you're talking about..." Snow White tried to dismiss it, then remembered that in a few days she would be able to slip into the city—undercover, of course. Her maids would never approve of her venturing out alone into Arran's capital, but she would find a way to persuade them.
"I need to speak with you about something," she finally said. Both Mariella and Rachel paused to listen.
"Is something wrong?" Rachel asked gently.
"Would you come with me to the city? I assure you nothing bad has ever happened the other times I've gone out."
"Princess!" Rachel gasped. "You've done this before? Without telling anyone?"
Snow White blushed under her maid's worried gaze and Mariella's stern one. "Yes…?"
"What would the queen say if she knew the princess wandered through the capital?" Rachel sighed, realizing what the girl truly wanted: to walk freely among the people, without guards shadowing her every step.
"Everyone will recognize you immediately!"
"I'll wear simple clothes and a large hood. No one will notice me."
"And the guards? It is their duty to protect you. Why not let them?"
"They would draw too much attention. Citizens might even grow suspicious."
Mariella tilted her head. "What if they accompanied us in plain clothes, blending in with the crowd?"
"Mariella, don't encourage these reckless plans!" Rachel protested. "The main problem is the queen. What if she found out—?"
"Rachel, don't worry. The queen wouldn't forbid me. Not if I gave her a reasonable explanation ."
Snow White's sweet smile betrayed more than her words. She was already eager to see Grimilde again that evening and to learn what news the anxious messenger had brought. She didn't realize how tender her expression had become—an expression reserved only for someone very special, like a mother for her child, or a lover for the one who had stolen her heart.
Rachel exchanged a glance with Mariella, who smirked. "Princess, it seems you and the queen are on good terms…"
"Yes, that's right."
"Have you been speaking with Her Majesty these past days?"
"Yes… why?"
"Are you meeting her in secret?"
"In s-secret? We're only talking in private!"
The two maids smiled knowingly, satisfied with their discovery, and refrained from pressing further.
That night, Snow White gazed at her reflection one last time. Her dark hair was neatly combed, and she wore a blue nightgown with a red silk overcoat. Carrying a small lantern—an old treasure from a childhood outing—she left her chamber.
The castle corridors were dim and quiet, most servants and courtiers already at rest. She crossed the halls without obstacle, until she reached the queen's wing, where the same guards as before stood watch. How could she pass them unnoticed? Surely it was improper for a princess to slip into the queen's chambers at such an hour.
"Princess?" a voice whispered.
Snow White spun around, startled. It was the same young servant who had summoned the queen earlier that afternoon.
She reacted impulsively, pressing a hand to his lips.
He blinked, surprised, then removed her hand gently. "Is something wrong? Can I help you Your Royal Highness?"
Snow White hesitated, then made a decision she would normally never dare to: use her position for a request without explanation.
"You could do something… Distract the guards, just for a few minutes."
The boy frowned, then glanced toward the queen's door. Suddenly his expression softened into a grin. "A secret meeting? Don't worry, Princess—I'll handle it."
He approached the guards, exchanged words, and within moments led them away. Snow White didn't question his eagerness; she slipped quickly to the door and knocked softly before entering.
"Bianca, why do you act as though you're committing a crime?" Grimilde's voice startled her from the shadows. The princess smiled sheepishly and shut the door.
"Next time, I'll inform the guards to let you pass without question," the queen said.
"No! I mean… what would they think? It's a late hour, it's not appropriate…"
"And?" Grimilde arched a brow, finding her embarrassment endearing. "Bianca, we're two women. What could they possibly think?" And I am your stepmother, she thought with a twinge of unease.
Snow White giggled, easing the tension. "You're right. What could they think…"
But those very words brought a new and unfamiliar tension to the room. Grimhilde's smile faded. She turned and moved to her crimson sofa, gesturing for Snow White to join her.
"Would you like something to drink?"
Snow White's eyes fell on the glass of wine at the table. "Yes, please."
Though she had little tolerance for alcohol, she wouldn't refuse the chance to share a drink with the queen. Grimilde fetched another glass, poured, and handed it to her.
"Thank you." Snow White took a sip. After a moment of silence, she took courage "I wanted to ask about the messenger…"
They spoke for a while of the kingdom's affairs. Grimilde explained that the man was a soldier from the northern border, reporting suspicious movements by the Marquis of Terran. Though she doubted his motives, she decided to investigate. Borderlands were always vulnerable to betrayal, especially with neighboring kingdoms hovering to identify weak points.
As they talked, Snow White felt her nerves ease. Her gaze drifted around the room—until it settled on Grimilde. The queen wore a black nightgown trimmed with lace. The sight made Snow White blush, though her cheeks were already flushed from the wine.
"A lantern… where did you get it?" Grimhilde noticed the object at her feet.
"I bought it at a market stall years ago," Snow White admitted, then realized she had revealed more than she intended.
"So I sit in the company of an escape artist?"
"I haven't done it often… I'm sorry for not confessing sooner."
"It's dangerous," Grimilde replied, finishing her wine. "Tell me, weren't you afraid of the risks? Of being captured or worse?"
"I can defend myself, at least in a crowd."
Grimilde shook her head, covering her smile with her hand.
"Is something wrong?" Snow White asked.
"No. I simply find you fascinating. I enjoy listening to you."
Snow White froze under the weight of that smile. A few strands of blonde hair slipped across Grimilde's face, and without thinking, the princess leaned closer to brush them aside. Her hand lingered, caressing the queen's cheek. The fragrance of roses enveloped her—roses like those from Grimilde's garden..
"Snow White…"
The princess didn't see the shift in the queen's eyes. She blushed, lowering her gaze, yet she didn't move her hand. In that fragile silence, Grimilde gave in at last. She wrapped her arms around Snow White, who gasped in surprise but did not pull away.
The warmth of the queen's embrace made her heart race. She clung to Grimilde's waist, breathless, overcome by the mingled scents of flowers and wine.
"Forgive me," Grimilde whispered, drawing back. "I was impulsive. I could blame the wine, but the truth is… I've longed for such closeness. It's been years since I felt I could really trust someone."
"You can," Snow White murmured, dark eyes glistening with compassion. "Whenever you feel the need, you can embrace me. I know loneliness well. And I don't deny that I share your feelings."
For a moment, Grimilde's resolve trembled. She pushed away the forbidden desire once more, fearing what it might become. Yet that night, for the first time in years, she remembered how it felt to be loved.