“I will try that,” she said pleasantly. There was something about him that reminded Snow of her mother. “Where are you from?”
He bent down and let a bearded reedling climb onto his arm. “My kingdom borders yours in the north. I’m Henrich, by the way, but my friends call me Henri.”
Did that mean she was a friend? She couldn’t help smiling. “I’m Snow White.”
“Snow White,” he repeated, staring at her intently. “I hope our paths cross again. I’m here to see the queen, although I don’t have an appointment.”
“Oh.” Snow’s face fell. “She doesn’t like being called on unannounced.”
“Perhaps you could tell her I’m here, then?” he asked. She opened her mouth to protest. “It’s important I talk to her. My father, the king, asked me to, and I don’t want to let him down.” His face fell slightly.
“May I be so bold as to ask what for?” Snow couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she didn’t want him to leave yet. Having an actual conversation with another person was so much nicer than she remembered. She’d had no idea how much she craved such contact.
“Your kingdom is known for its diamonds and good farming, and ours is known for raising sheep. We’ve always had a robust trade between the two kingdoms that we both benefited from,” Henri explained. “But the past few years the queen has taxed us heavily when we want to buy crops, and keeps cutting our profits on wool. Recently, she stopped taking orders. We’ve heard she’s started looking elsewhere to trade. I wanted to appeal to her to keep the original agreement we had with King Georg.”
Snow felt a pang hearing her father’s name. “I’m not sure she’s going to honor that agreement, especially if you bring up the former king,” Snow said thoughtfully. “But perhaps you could offer her something more in return. Something that lets her know that trading with your kingdom is something she couldn’t possibly refuse. Is there another export you have that would be worthy to her?”
Henri paused for a moment. “We have a lot of cattle. We’d certainly be willing to trade some of our stock.” He looked at her. “You’re very wise, Snow White.”
She looked down at her clogs. “I like figuring out things and keeping my mind busy.” She glanced up at him again. “I’m not sure I have much pull with Queen Ingrid, but at least now you know what you can offer her.”
Henrich’s grin lit up like a thousand fireflies. “I’m indebted to you, Princess.” She suddenly noticed he looked very tired. She wondered how long he had been traveling. In the distance, she heard the village clock chime. How long had they been talking? She needed to leave before the queen learned what she was doing. “I should go, and you should, too, I’m afraid.”
“Yes,” Henri agreed, placing his cap back on his head and bowing to her. “Perhaps I will try to make an appointment. Thank you again for your help.” He looked back at the wishing well where he had first seen her. “May I take a drink before I go?”
“Of course,” she said, and she watched as he walked to the well and filled a canteen from his pocket. With a final nod, he headed back to the wall. He grabbed on to some hanging vines and gave them a tug to see if they would hold. Slowly, he began to climb. When he reached the top, he looked back at her.
“Thank you, Snow,” Henri said. “Till we meet again?”
“Till we meet again,” she repeated. I hope it’s soon, she thought, despite herself. I hope it is very soon.
Snow was so busy watching Henri that she didn’t notice she was also being watched. High above, the Evil Queen looked down unhappily from her window.
The queen watched the scene in the garden with disgust.
How many times had she told that girl not to converse with anyone, especially strangers?
And yet, there she was in that ragged dress of hers, talking to a young man. Just the sight of them together, smiling and laughing like old acquaintances, had caused the queen to dig her fingernails into the stone railing so hard she left a mark. Who was that boy and what was he doing on the castle grounds without her knowledge? It wasn’t just his intrusion that angered her. It was something else she couldn’t put her finger on yet. But she would.
Whirling away from the window, the queen moved toward her wardrobe door. She pressed a lever on the wall, which allowed her to open a secret doorway that led to another room. She quickly closed it behind her. Once in the darkened chamber, she stepped up onto the platform at its center. Then she threw open the blue curtains that hid her most prized possession. Her private quarters were off-limits, but one could never be too careful. Yes, she had protection charms in place—ancient symbols that she had painted on the white stone walls around the artifact to keep it from being removed—but she was suspicious by nature and didn’t like to take chances. The mirror was worth protecting.
Even though they had spent practically a lifetime together, she still marveled at the object’s beauty. With an oval silhouette, the mirror took up almost an entire wall. Its frame—made of ebony and intricately gilded—was magnificent enough, but it was the snakelike gold rope wrapped around the frame that had first drawn her eye when she’d found the mirror hidden in her master’s shop. The rope lay smooth on the lower half of the mirror, but became more erratic and vine-like near the mirror’s top, where it seemed to breathe out of two serpents’ mouths like tongues. The jewels that adorned the mirror, too, were worth more than any of the diamonds in the kingdom’s mines. If she didn’t keep the mirror hidden, some fool would stumble upon the thing and plunder the jewels for their worth, never realizing the object’s true gift. The mirror had never told her how it had come into being, but she knew every part of it was vital and irreplaceable. How much of her day did she spend in this tower room staring at those rubies that peered at her like two snake eyes? How often did she turn to the mask in the glass over all others?
She closed her eyes, raised her arms, and heard the thunder and wind that were summoned with greater ease with each passing year. Lightning illuminated the room as she began to speak.
“Voice in the magic mirror, come from the farthest space,” the queen began. “Through wind and darkness I summon thee. Speak! Let me see thy face.”
The mirror began to smoke and an image began to take shape. Sometimes it came through rather smoky, or so fuzzy she felt like she was looking at it through a distorted piece of glass. But this time, the jester-like beige mask appeared clearly—its eyes missing from its sockets, its eyebrows arched almost permanently in a curious expression, a mouth nothing more than a thin pink line. The first time she had seen the bodiless man in the mirror, she had thought him loathsome. Now his was the face she craved to see more than any other. She knew the features on the mask as well as she knew the lines on her own face . . . lines that disappeared over time, thanks to the mirror’s magic. She looked as young and vibrant as Snow on most days, and she dressed infinitely better. Her purple gown with its sewn-in cape was made of the finest silk and fit her like a well-made glove.
“What wouldst thou know, my queen?” asked the mirror, sounding steady and strong. The mirror’s voice always had a profound effect on her, perhaps because she knew it was always right.