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“What wouldst thou know, sisters?”
The sisters chuckled and sniggered.
“Why have you been so very unruly for your new mistress?” the sisters asked.
“I have not been kind to Her Majesty, this I know and this you can see, for she has never summoned me with the power that shackled me by thee.”
The sisters laughed again. “You may leave now, Slave,” the sisters said. And the face in the Magic Mirror dissolved in a swirling purple whirl.
“Does this tutorial suit Your Majesty?” the sisters asked.
“Very much so,” the Queen said, smiling. “You may go now.”
“Before you send us on our way—” Lucinda said.
“We’ve left you another gift—” Ruby continued.
“You will find it in your dungeon. Use it—” Martha said.
“Well,” Ruby finished.
When evening fell and the sisters had left the court, the Queen approached the Magic Mirror, still tired, but more hopeful now that she would find what she looked for there. She was so fixed on the mirror that she did not give the sisters’ second gift a thought. She gazed into the reflective glass and considered what she would ask. Then she recited the sisters’ incantation and called forth the Slave in the mirror.
“What wouldst thou know, my Queen?” the Slave asked.
“I wish to know of my husband. Is he well? Is he among the gods or the demons?”
“I have told you before, my Queen, I cannot see beyond that which can be seen.”
The Queen considered this. All hope that she would know what had been in store for her husband after his death swiftly left her. She could barely see her reflection beyond the face in the mirror. But what she could see terrified her. She was as ugly as her father had always said she was. There was only one thing other than news of her husband that might lift her spirits.
“Tell me, mirror, who it is that is fairest in the land?” she said desperately.
“Are you certain that you wish for me to answer that request?” the Slave asked.
“Certain,” the Queen said gritting her teeth.
“Know that I am bound by the truth,” the Slave replied.
“Then, if it is not I, tell me who it is,” the Queen said, becoming enraged.
“I did not say it was not you. I told you I could not lie. I thought you should be aware before treading into this territory.”
The Queen sneered and nodded.
“Who is she, Slave? Who is the fairest one of all?” the Queen asked.
“You have been weathered by this experience. You are worn and…” the Slave said.
“Out with it, man!” the Queen yelled, pounding her fist upon the mantel and shouting. “Who is fairest in all the land?”
“You are, my Queen,” the Slave replied. Then he disappeared in a swirl of mist, and the Queen could once again see her face. Her eyes narrowed and a wicked grin stretched across one corner of her mouth.
Shortly after her exchange with the Slave in the mirror, the Queen finally emerged from her chamber, looking as regal as ever. And it had been as Verona said it would be—the kingdom had waited to embrace the Queen as their sole ruler. And they did so in the grandest fashion imaginable.
The day was a whirlwind of red rose petals floating magically in the air, evoking the day she married the King, which caused a tight pain in her chest and the threat of tears. Snow rushed to the Queen an
d hugged her around her knees. Verona stood beside them and smiled.
