Grimhilde stalked out the door and immediately ran into a young girl who must have been about to knock on the door. She wore a yellow and blue dress; her hair was as black as ebony, her lips as red as the rose, and her skin as white as snow. She looked like she might be from one of the northern states, yet Grimhilde got the impression that the girl was not from anywhere in her country.

Grimhilde and the new girl apologized to each other several times. Then Grimhilde realized, “Wait, you’re talking to me.”

The girl giggled (not laughed, giggled). “Why, of course I am. It is only the polite thing to do to apologize when you run into a stranger. As long as you are here, do you know where I might find the queen of this land?”

Grimhilde drew herself up. “That would be me.”

The girl smiled and said, “Ma’am, my name is Snow White, and I would like to work in your beautiful castle.”

Of all the things Grimhilde had been expecting to happen that day, this event had never, nor would have ever, entered her thought processes. Shocked beyond words, she answered, “You’re hired.”

The girl, Snow White, giggled again and replied, “You don’t even know what kind of work I want to do!”

“But, my dear, it doesn't matter what you want to do. All my staff recently quit on me, so all my jobs are open. We’ll discuss your terms over dinner.”

Snow White’s eyes bulged to take up half her face. “But, your Highness, I certainly couldn’t afford the extraordinary meal I'm sure you're having.”

Grimhilde laughed. “Honey, tonight I'm having Old McDonald’s. I think I can afford a second meal.”

Over their “quality beef patties on freshly baked buns” that the boxes promised, they discussed Snow’s terms of employment. For five hundred marks a week, Snow was to help Grimhilde cook, clean, and, most importantly, “keep me company,” as Grimhilde put it. Once all the terms were agreed upon and a contract started (but not finished because neither of them had the patience to write that much), Grimhilde tried to find out about her new employee. “So where are you from?”

“Just west of this area,” Snow responded.

Probably Westphalia, Grimhilde noted. “What brings you here?”

Snow tensed. “My parents sent me here when they died. They gave me all the money they had, which wasn’t much, and I’ve spent almost all of it coming here. Why they would send me to a different country to work for a complete stranger, I can’t figure out, but I'm glad they did.”

“And why’s that?”

Snow grinned. “Why, because I’m with you, of course!”

Grimhilde smiled back uncomfortably and proceeded. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did your parents die?”

Snow’s face contorted with sadness, and tears trickled down her face. She whispered, “I can’t.”

Unsure of what to do, she followed some advice she’d read in a magazine a while ago: she found some hot tea in the kitchen that she’d made earlier and gave it to Snow and said, “There, there.”

Snow flashed a smile and replied, “Thank you, your Highness.”

“Was I supposed to do that? I read once that it’s the cultural norm these days to give people hot drinks when they’re sad.”

Snow smiled again and responded, “I think we will be great friends.”

“Speaking of great friends, follow me. I have something I want to show you.”

Grimhilde led the young girl down several hallways until they were in front of Mirror. “Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

“You are, my queen.”

At these words, Snow jumped. “Who said that?”

“I did.”

“Who did?”

“Me.”

Grimhilde rolled her eyes. “Mirror, stop scaring the poor girl. Show yourself.”

As she said the words, what looked like a white mask appeared on the face of the mirror. It spoke: “Your Highness, you can be no fun sometimes.”

As this happened, Snow grew even paler, if possible. “The mirror is talking.”

Grimhilde realized what she had done. “Snow, I need you to just keep an open mind.”

“Did you do this? Can you use magic?”

“Five hundred marks is a lot of money, Snow.”

“My boss is a witch. Oh my God. This is so cool! Can you, like, cast spells? Do you have a magic wand? Did you make this castle by yourself with magic? Are you–”

“Snow, slow down. Yes I can cast spells and no I do not have a wand. Wand magic is very different from physical magic.”

“Do you think you could teach me how to use magic?”

Mirror spoke up again, making Snow jump again. “Your Highness, might I speak to you for a minute?”

“Of course.” A silence ensues. “Snow, you have to… we can’t… he’s, uh, he’s mounted to the wall.”

Snow’s face reddened. “Oh. Right. I’ll just, you know, start cleaning.” And with that, she walked away awkwardly.

As soon as she’d left the room, Mirror started. “Your Highness, you certainly are not going to teach a girl you just met the sacred art of magic. She isn’t–”

“Mirror, I didn’t even have time to answer her. I wish you would allow me to make a few choices without automatically thrusting your opinion upon me.”

“I would not have to give my opinion if you would make the correct choices! I am tired of continuously attempting to father you into the world!”

“Then why do you feel the need to father me out of it?”

“That is because of your eternal shenanigans which I am necessitated to degrandize. I work sedulously to mitigate your propensity towards insular malevolence.”

“Don’t expect another word-a-day calendar for your birthday!”

“Your Highness, I am serious. When will you grow up and actually do something with your life?”

“Mirror, just because my parents have died doesn’t mean you need to fill in for them! I...I...” Grimhilde suddenly became very weary. “Mirror, why are we doing this? No, why am I doing this? You were telling me something that I should know already and I had to interrupt you with my assumptions. What were you saying?”

“Thank you. I was saying that...” Mirror’s mask-face softened. “I am sorry too, your Highness. I was too focused on trying to make you see the way I want you to see to understand that you will never see like I do. I cannot expect everyone to be as intelligent as I am, after all.”

Grimhilde smiled. “So you think it’s a good idea to teach Snow magic?”

Mirror grimaced. “I would not call it a ‘good idea,’ but if you think you should do it, then I know that you can make it all work out. And besides, how can I stop you? You have put me up on this wall!”

Grimhilde grinned again and left to find her maid.

Grimhilde assumed that she would be in the kitchen, still cleaning, but Snow was not there. The queen continued to look throughout the castle until she came to a hallway with many portraits of dead relatives and old family friends in whom Grimhilde took no interest. Snow was there, looking at a particular painting of Grimhilde’s uncle’s second wife, fascinated with and even shocked at the face.

“Snow?”

The worker started, then turned to look at Grimhilde. “Oh, you startled me.”

“What are you looking at?”

Snow seemed a little embarrassed. “This looks just like my mother. I haven't seen her in a while, but I think it might be her.”

Grimhilde looked at the painting again. Her aunt looked absolutely nothing like Snow, nor was her surname White. “Her last name was Tischler so she can’t be in your family.”

“No...I guess not,” Snow replied reluctantly.

“If you’re ready for bed, I'll show you to your room,” offered Grimhilde, eager to get off the topic of her family.

Snow yawned, then giggled. “I guess I’m a little tired.”

Grimhilde smiled back. “Alright. Follow me.”

A flight of stairs and three hallways later, they arrived at one of the guest bedrooms. “I’m sorry it's such a mess in here,” Grimhilde apologized. “I rarely have guests, so these bedrooms tend to be more of storage rooms. But if you have any problems, I’ll be sleeping in the room just down the hall, third door on the right.”

As she turned to leave, Snow voiced, “Your Highness.” Grimhilde stopped and turned her head to the girl. “I know what you're going through. you think that everyone in the world hates you. But it’s not true. There are people that understand you. I am one of them. Grimhilde, I don’t care what they say about you. You may do some things that others don't approve of, but I see through that. You, milady, have a beautiful heart.”

Grimhilde quickly exited and ran to her room. She cried until she fell asleep.

She became vaguely aware of someone shaking her and chanting her name. She tried to ignore it through her slumber, groaning and covering her head with a pillow, but to no end. The voice told her, “Your Highness, you need to wake up so you can eat this breakfast I cooked before it gets cold. Lady Griimhiiildeeeee!” The voice desisted, and Grimhilde smiled with satisfaction.

“I made coffee.”

The queen’s eyes flashed open. She saw the pale girl with a white nightgown and, more importantly, a pot of coffee. A table on the wall of the room she’d slept in contained two plates with bacon, eggs, and toast, along with sugar, creamer, milk and two mugs.

Grimhilde crawled out of bed and took one of the seats at the table while Snow sat in the other. They ate and drank, and Snow offered more food, which Grimhilde declined. Then Grimhilde said, “Snow, yesterday you said that you wanted to learn how to use magic. Would you still like me to teach you?”

Snow smiled. “I would love that. What time shall we start?”

“Well, you have some dishes to clean, so I was thinking right now.”

Grimhilde opened a window in the kitchen and said, “The key to magic is to find where you draw your power. If you think a lot, you’ll use your brain to manipulate the world. That, I believe, is the most powerful form of magic. But if you’re an artist of some kind, you draw power from your hands, and so on. That is how you can tell a real witch from a fake one. A real witch can use her own magic; a false one has to use a wand. Do you know where your power is?”

Snow nodded.

“Then the first lesson is to pick up a dish. Do you think you can do that?”

“I can.”

Grimhilde smiled at her confidence. “Then just draw on your power source and think of what you want to be done.”

Snow inhaled deeply, then started singing the most beautiful song Grimhilde had ever heard. As she let loose, a bird entered through the window and picked up a plate, and then another came in and took a sponge and began cleaning the plate. A third bird flew in and took a rag, with which it dried the plate so that the first one could take the plate to the cabinet to which it belonged.

The queen was intrigued. Most people might simply stare at the plate until it began to slowly rise into the air, then become so absorbed with the fact that they were using magic that the plate drops, then repeat until they had found enough focus to bring the plate to the sink. Snow, however, was using an entirely different approach. She wasn’t manipulating the world around her on her own; she was giving instructions and letting things take care of themselves. Almost like she’d done this before…

Snow must have foreseen how long her process would take, so she called in a flock of various species of songbirds into the kitchen and set up a system of washing, drying, and putting away the dishes. All the while, Snow did not end her ballad, nor did Grimhilde’s eyes cease to widen.

When Snow had finished with cleaning and had evacuated all the fowl from the room, the queen asked, “Young lady, where did that come from? It took me years upon years to come up with an effective way to control animals’ minds, and even now, I can’t use it for more than ten creatures! How on Earth can you just...just...do that?”

Snow blushed. “You were wrong. I draw power from my voice. The most powerful magic isn’t the one that you think about, it’s the one you sing about.”

Grimhilde smiled. “No, Snow. Watching you, I realize what I’ve been doing wrong. The strongest type of magic is the one you feel so strongly you have to sing about it.”

Grimhilde sent Snow to get dressed and clean her room so that she could speak with Mirror. “Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

“You are, my Queen.”

“Mirror, there’s a problem. Go ahead and say, ‘I told you so.’”

“Very well. I told you so.”

“Okay, so now that that’s out of the way, I think Snow may be lying to us.”

Mirror’s face appeared, laughing. “So you are telling me that some random girl you found at your doorstep who you let into your home for no reason has been lying to you? Oh, if only I had warned you of this!”

“Yeah, yeah, but the problem is–”

“‘Oh, the problem is she stole all of our most valuable items!’” Mirror mocked, mimicking Grimhilde’s voice predictably well. “Oh, I so told you–oh, you are clever, your Highness! I have already said that.”

Grimhilde smirked. “Are you done now?”

Mirror sighed. “Yes. Go on.”

“Good. Snow has been lying to us. She said that she wanted to learn magic, but I think she already knows it.”

“Did you come to that conclusion from the mark on her leg?”

“What mark?”

“The one that marks her as a witch of Satan.”

A wave of emotions swept over her. “What? Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I was going to inform you of it last night before you interrupted me,” Mirror answered gruffly.

Grimhilde was going to retort with some rude remark, but, determined not to start another fight, simply answered, “What are we going to do? She’s a devil’s witch, she is evil! We need to get her out of the house before–”

“That will not be necessary, your Highness.”

Grimhilde turned around. There, tears flowing down face, was Snow White.