Once upon a time in a land far far away, a little girl was born to the King and Queen. Her hair was black as ebony, her lips as red as two glistening rubies, and her skin white as snow. For some odd reason her parents, rather than being concerned by the child’s ghost-like appearance, embraced it and decided to name their precious only child after her skin tone. They named her Snow White. Like Madonna, she needed no surname.
Unfortunately, Snow White was born during the same year in which a dreaded plague swept across the kingdom. She and her father were unscathed, but her lovely royal mother was not so lucky, and died whilst Snow White was was just a babe. Her father, being the red blooded male that he was, re-married two years later. He married the most beautiful woman in the kingdom as he was incredibly wealthy and felt it only right that he had the appropriate arm candy to reflect his wealth and power. Think medieval Trump and Melania.
The new Queen was a frightful woman, beautiful though she was. The King was an old fashioned man and hadn’t realised that women were capable of possessing such qualities as a personality. He had heard rumours that outside of the palace walls she was known as the Wicked Queen, but had dismissed them as the ramblings of superstitious peasants (kings are much too clever to be superstitious), who were jealous of her awe-inspiring beauty. Besides, everyone knows women can’t be wicked as they’re much too busy baking cakes, and being delightful and giggly whilst massaging their men-folks’ manly feet.
However, the Queen WAS wicked, and incredibly vain and shallow. She had married the equally shallow King for his wealth and power and the elevated status that he gave her. But know this: had she had any inkling that his sickly appearing daughter would grow to be a beautiful young woman, she would not have married him, for her pride was even more powerful than her greed. Snow White, with her corpse-like skin had not shown signs of traditional beauty as a child…
But Snow White did grow to be a beautiful young woman, if by ‘young woman’ you mean ‘teenage girl of 16 summers’. Her skin grew no darker no matter how much time she spent outdoors, her hair grew no lighter, and she was concerned that it would be a bitch to hide her grey hairs as she aged, and her lips remained like those of the undead post avante gard dining experience. And the Wicked Queen hated her with all her might. The King did not help matters as he prided himself on his ability to produce such a beautiful princess, who would never be short of suitors. He had never noticed that she was growing into quite an intelligent young woman with insightful opinions, as girls don’t have those, but my God she was pretty.
As Snow White entered her 16th winter another deadly plague swept across the kingdom. Again Snow White was spared, as was the Wicked Queen, but her father, who was now ageing far beyond his thirty second birthday succumbed and passed away less peacefully than one would like for a King, but that’s plagues for you. Now, this was a funny kingdom, because for some reason, despite the Wicked Queen being Queen by marriage to the King alone, following his death, she somehow retained her position, and indeed, grew more powerful with no King to answer to.
Snow White did her best to avoid the Wicked Queen so as to avoid her face accidentally triggering her irrational wrath, but yet, somehow, she still experienced it. The Wicked Queen insisted dining together so that she could throw salt and pepper grinders at the pretty princess. However, the Wicked Queen did not want those beyond the palace wall to know of her abuse to the next in-line to the throne and so did allow her to wear lavish robes befitting of royalty, and access makeup and hair products.
One day, when the Wicked Queen was out in the kingdom to officially open a healing hut, she heard whispers amongst the peasants, ‘I wish she’d just step down and let Snow White take the throne. That’s a modern woman.’ And worse still, ‘She’s passed it.’ The Wicked Queen tried to style it out and forced a rye smile, but inside her blood boiled. Her anger was not directed at the peasants, for they were poor and stupid, but at Snow White’s stupid face.
She continued her tour of the kingdom quietly, trying to be as terribly beautiful as she could, pouting at all the right times, but she knew it was no good. In her heart of hearts she knew that she could not be accepted by the peasants whilst residing in Snow White’s shadow. The Wicked Queen’s thirtieth birthday was but 2 autumns away, and she knew that in time that her health would begin to decline and Snow White would only look all the more beautiful beside an elderly queen.
Snow White had to go. The Wicked Queen had allowed her to mooch off of her for too long!
Slowly and calmly the Wicked Queen retreated to the palace. Once safely within the palace walls with the drawbridge raised she let out an ear piercing, blood curdling scream. The murder of crows residing in the bell tower fled, the peasants throughout the kingdom heard the scream and wept in fear, wondering what they had done to displease the Wicked Queen and what their punishment may be for the unwitting faux pas. So shrill was the scream that the kingdom’s crops withered and died.