Snow White - A retelling

Once upon a time there was a beautiful Queen who lived in an equally beautiful palace with her beloved husband, the King. They both wished dearly for a child, but the queen was a weak woman and only a miracle could have allowed her to give birth to one.

One cold winter evening she was strolling through the palace grounds on the way to check on her greenhouse. It was her sanctuary, constructed of glass so clear you hardly noticed is was there. Inside the Queen grew all manner of strange and wondrous plants. There were trees with silver bark and branches dripping with pearly white apples, there were bushes with leaves made of the softest silk, there were vines of glittering wisteria draped over the rafters, there were blue bells that tinkled and rang sweetly, there were flowers of the deepest velvety purple that glowed on midsummer nights, bushy shrubs that blue and white patterned teacups and saucers, there was ivy that rustled and whispered poetry, there were delicate chrysanthemums whose petals turned into butterflies and flew away on a different day each year, there was even a large knobbly whose trunk held an enormous library full of strange books on every topic imaginable, and many more things besides those ones.

Out of the many unique and mysterious plants that the Queen grew, her favourite was a bush of deep red roses whose fragrance was so delicate and sweet and complex that it was almost irresistible. And although the roses didn't glow or sparkle or tinkle, she felt they were magical in their own special way. Sometimes when she stared into the cascading crimson petals, she saw dark red sunsets, shining ruby pomegranates and scarlet mountains blanketed by soft clouds. The scent of the roses also reminded her of strange beautiful thoughts such as these.

The Queen was dutifully pruning her roses when she pricked her finger on a thorn, and was just about to thrust it in her mouth lest she get blood on her dress when a strange feeling came over her. She stared at the snow and the night and the blood and then looked up into the heavens and said:

"I wish for a daughter with skin as white as snow, hair as black as night and lips as red as blood, more beautiful than even me."

The last comment was a little vain, but as she had been so earnest and true the heavens decided to grant her wish anyway.

Soon after the Queen gave birth to a child of that description and the whole kingdom rejoiced. They lovingly named the girl Snow white.

But the Queen was a weak woman, and someone of her health should not have given birth to a child and so she became very ill. She died five years later on a bed of her favourite roses.

The King was very sad, for he had loved his wife dearly, not only for her beauty but for her kindness and compassion too. However, every kingdom needs a Queen and his was no exception, so he remarried a year later.

His new wife was just as beautiful as his old one, but she was cold and cruel and merciless in every way. She was also an extremely vain and jealous woman and was constantly trying to outshine everyone else. Although she was not an ideal queen, the King knew it was for the best.

Meanwhile Snow white grew more beautiful by each day. Even when her stepmother, the new queen, tried to hide that beauty by making her wear ugly dresses and put strange concoctions on her face it still shone with the radiance of a thousand stars.

As Snow white got older people began to praise her beauty more than the Queen's, and the woman grew very jealous.

The Queen was a lady of curious habits. Even though she was married to the King, she spent most of her time alone in her private quarters or at a large window, observing the palace gardens.

While she was alone she would do all manner of peculiar things; she took baths in yak milk, she soaked herself in rose water, she stared at flowers, she chewed on mint leaves, she lay naked in jewels and pearls, she covered her hands in honey, she ordered expensive massages and she painted her lips with crushed petals.