Hello, Mirror

As the girl slept, I was forming. The roses must discard of the evil somewhere, and they dispose it into me. I am a hand mirror, with an ornate silver frame and handle. I feel the evil flowing into me, and I open my eyes. I cannot see much from my viewpoint of the vanity. Just the ceiling, really.

As more darkness is poured into me like water into a glass, my horizons expand. If I close my eyes, I can see the entire room, not just the ceiling. That is how I find Queen. Darkness pulsates from her with her every heartbeat, constant, and alive. I watch her for 36,500 days, and I never tire of it.

One day, someone comes. He is a young man, no more than twenty. With a sword strapped to his side and a golden crown inlaid with a ruby as red as a heart upon his chestnut curls, he is quite the sight. He bows over Queen and kisses her gently. Her eyes do not flutter but whip open immediately. They are a frightening emerald green, and I think the prince thinks so too. He lunges backwards, but Queen grabs him. “My prince,” she whispers. He helps her up, and she smiles at him.

Suddenly her eyes flash to the vanity. To me. She shrugs the prince off and walks over. She scoops me up with such gentleness that not a soul will believe what she is. “Hello, mirror.” She says it so softly that I, with my magical hearing, can barely hear her, let alone the prince.

She slips me into her pocket as the prince comes up and puts his arm around her shoulder. They walk out like that. We pass dozens of corpses lying in rooms, hallways, and the courtyard. No one except Queen is alive after a hundred years.

At the prince's palace, Queen dresses in finery fit for a bride. They are wed on the sixth day at the palace. By the seventh, the prince is dead. Queen comes to me every day, asking who is most beautiful, most evil, most clever.

I, using my power, search the world before announcing, truthfully, that it is she. But one day, I must answer differently.

“Far to the north lies a kingdom. A widower rules, with but one jewel, his daughter,” I say, “Fair Snow is pretty in every way and clever beyond doubt, yet evil belongs to my Queen.”

Queen's juniper eyes harden further, and she orders her servants to pack her bags. “We are going to go see the king,” she whispers.

I have never been frightened of Queen, but her unnatural eyes hold an emerald fire I have never seen before. Hard, cold, unrelenting. Evil.

***

We arrive at the king's castle with fanfare. Queen, barley proposes that a wedding is in order for her and the king. They wed, and the king lives nearly a month before a mysterious death. Queen, of course, takes action. She asks me where she might find some willing helpers. I tell her to go to the woods and wait at the house she finds there. She does just that and discovers the seven men I know live there. I watch as she arranges their reward for helping her. A jewel mine. Queen comes back with her lips turned up ever so slightly.

The child Snow is just like Queen used to be. I watch her often, her pale face surrounded by charcoal curls, with rose red lips. A beauty of fifteen years. I, oddly, want to protect her. But I owe my loyalty to Queen. Not Snow. I remind myself often.

But one day, I see a hunter in the woods, and I forget my Queen. “Queen wishes to kill Snow,” I whisper to the hunter. “Warn her.”

Now, the hunter means well. He loves Snow just like any in the kingdom. But he frightens her instead... Right to the little men. I try to convince myself that this is what I planned, but it truly is not. The odd thing is, the little men treat Snow kindly. I notice that one tucks a dagger under his pillow, but he removes it in the morning. What are they doing? Queen requires it of them that Snow be killed.

Then, they bring Snow apples. Blood red apples that shine in the sun. They watch as Snow takes a bite. She collapses to the ground, a gagging heap. Six of the little men look horrified, and roughly pat her back in an attempt to remove the apple. But one smiles...

Six of the men begin to cry, and they file out. I follow them to the mine where they take all their jewels and carve and piece them together until they have created a jigsaw coffin. A rainbow of colors, made from rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds. You can see through them, to the little pillow they rest at the head of the coffin. They carry it sadly to their hut, and lower Snow inside, gentle as could be. Then they place it in their garden, Snow's favorite spot, and guard it day and night.

That very night, just as the past four years, Queen asks who is the most beautiful, most evil, most clever. I answer that it is, once again, she.

I am confused. I wish to serve Queen, but I also want Snow to live. And so, I make up my mind. I give Snow part of my magic. Not enough to make her truly evil, but it will take away her gentle demeanor. As I am working my magic, a young man comes into the scene. Another prince? He speaks to the little men. They open the coffin, and the prince leans over Snow and kisses her.

My magic is complete. Before I can even say My Queen, the prince has Snow in his arms, and the child is smiling, laughing, talking. Thanks to me. But, to everyone else, it appears that the prince is the one who woke Snow.

I watch as, for the next fifteen years, Snow lives happily with her prince. They have three children. The eldest, Charm, is a girl of fourteen. And then is Grace, at twelve. And finally, Gallant, a sweet boy of ten.

But, as all stories go, something happens. The prince went to war and never came back. Gallant dies of smallpox, Charm and Grace become sad and lost, and Snow loses queen hood to a Duke. The three of them move to the country, sad and lost.

Until...