Three Songs

I.

The King's first wife was indisputably the fairest in the land throughout their marriage, but she didn't need anyone to tell her that. It wasn't that she knew it to be true. Such things simply didn't matter to her, and perhaps that was the reason why she was the fairest. There was a radiance that shown from her that no other in the land possessed. She was kind and compassionate, and she loved the King, and he loved her. As far as can be known, no one in the kingdom had any dislike for her, except, perhaps, the future queen. This first Queen, however, did not have a hateful bone in her body, and thus did not wish ill on any member of the kingdom. The only things she desired were the love of her husband, which she had in abundance, and a child. Specifically, she longed for a beautiful daughter, but she would have been happy with any child.

After several years of marriage, the Queen's wish was granted, but she died in childbirth. In her dying words, she named the child—Snow White. The King was heartbroken. As the girl grew, she looked more and more like her mother with each passing day. The King loved her dearly, but at the same time, he found it difficult to look at her for very long because of the reminder of his beloved late Queen. He kept himself occupied as much as possible, thinking that if he could keep his mind busy with other things, he would not feel so much pain over the loss of his wife. That was the idea, anyway. He hosted a multitude of banquets and festivities at his castle, attempting to liven the halls, once filled with the Queen's laughter, which now seemed dreary and dull. Through it all, the King kept up a happy demeanor for Snow White's sake whenever he was in his daughter's presence. Even if he wasn't feeling it, which he rarely was, he could fake it for her benefit.

Many of the King's banquets were attended by royalty from nearby kingdoms. Often these other kingdoms' monarchs desired to marry their young daughters off to the King, to form stronger bonds between their kingdoms. The King always politely declined, and when the monarchs saw his melancholy demeanor, they could not find it in their hearts to be offended by the gesture. Sometimes the royal families who came to visit the King did not have such ulterior motives and accepted the invitation on much more friendly terms. One such family, from a kingdom whose border was quite close to the King's castle, visited when Snow White could not have been older than five or six, but it was an encounter Snow White would never forget. At the time, the family's only child was a young prince a couple of years older than Snow herself.

The young boy's skin was fair, but not as fair as Snow White's—but then, no one's was. His hair was dark, but not as dark as Snow White 's—but again, no one's was. The family let the two young ones play in the garden while they feasted and drank wine with the King and his court. Snow White had never met another child so close to her own age before, and she was fascinated above all else. She had thought of herself as a small adult up until this point, but here was another person her size, and it was slowly changing her views on things.

The pair walked around the garden together, and Snow White showed the young prince different things—statues and plants that she was particularly fond of. They eventually came to a well which had vines growing up its sides and flowers and leaves growing on its shingles.

"What's this?" the Prince asked.

"It's a wishing well," Snow White replied.

"What's that?" he asked.

"You make a wish in it," Snow White explained simply. "And then your wish will come true."

"Is that true?" the Prince asked, looking wide-eyed at the little princess.

"Mm-hmm," Snow White nodded. "My father told me that, and he never lies to me."

"I'd like to make a wish in it, then, if you'll permit me," the boy said, and Snow White allowed him to step up to the well and make his wish.

"What did you wish for?" Snow White asked as the boy stepped back.

"I can't tell you that or it won't come true," the Prince said.

"That's not how it works," Snow White said. "If you made the wish in the well it will come true no matter what."

"All the same, I think I'd like to keep it a secret," the Prince said.

"Okay," Snow White said. "I suppose I can't change your mind then."

"No," the Prince said.

"Lift me up so that I can make a wish," Snow White said.

The Prince helped lift the little princess up so that she could grip the edge of the well and lean over to look down into its dark waters. She closed her eyes and made a silent wish that she could—at least someday—know what it was that the young prince had wished for. She told the Prince she was done and he lowered her back down.

"What did you wish for?" the Prince asked.

"I'm not telling if you're not," she said, and the Prince nodded in acceptance.

The two went inside the castle then and walked through the deserted halls. All the castle's residents were in the banquet hall, and all the staff were busying between the hall and the kitchen, so the two young royals were alone in the decorated palace corridors. Together they looked at the tapestries hanging on the wall, and Snow White explained the ones that she understood to the Prince. He nodded, interested, as he listened to the stories. They eventually came upon one that depicted two figures with their lips together. Snow White seemed a bit baffled by it.

"I don't know what they're doing," she said, making a gesture of confusion.

"Why, they're kissing," the Prince said, as though that were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Kissing?" Snow White said, and the Prince nodded. "What's that?"

"It's something grown people do when they love each other very much," the Prince said. "I don't know why they do it, but they do. They look at each other, and they press their lips together, and then sometimes they look at each other some more. My mother and father do it sometimes."

"Hm," Snow White said. "My father never does it."

"That's because he doesn't have anyone that he loves," the Prince said.

"He loves me, I think," Snow White said.

"That's a different kind of love," the Prince said.

"Why?" Snow White asked.

"I don't know," the Prince said. "It just is."

"It's sad that he doesn't have anyone to kiss, isn't it?" Snow White asked. "Those people are smiling, so it must be nice."

"It is sad," the Prince said.

"What do you think it's like?" Snow White said.

"I don't know," the Prince said. "We could find out."

"How?" Snow White asked naively.

"By kissing each other, of course," the Prince said.

"Why?" Snow White asked.

"Well, to find out what it's like," the Prince said.

"But you said it's done by people who love each other," Snow White said. "Do we love each other?"

"I don't know," the Prince said. "Maybe. Or maybe we will, someday."

"Do you suppose it's dangerous?" Snow White asked.

"My mother and father do it so much that it must not be," the Prince said. "They both seem to be okay."

"Well, okay," Snow White said. "Then I suppose we might as well."

She leaned forward, and the Prince leaned forward too. She closed her eyes as the people in the picture did, and the Prince closed his, as he had seen his parents do. They slowly moved forward, neither wanting to somehow hurt the other. Their lips were surely close to touching when they both heard a sound coming from around a corner in the corridor.

"Princess Snow White! Princess Snow White!"

Snow White stood straight and opened her eyes, and the young prince did the same. A maid came running around the corner and shuffled up to Snow White and the Prince.

"Oh, you two—I'd been worried sick," she said. "Your father sent me to fetch you from the garden, and neither of you were there. I thought you might be playing a clever game of hide and seek. Thank goodness I found you quickly. The prince's mother and father 'll be looking for him soon, and your father wishes to see you now. Come along, you two."

Snow White was disappointed that her time with the young prince was being cut short. Things were just beginning to become interesting and inciting her curiosity, and now it seemed likely that her wish would not come true—at least not today. But she had faith in her father and hope that someday her wish would be granted.

Soon after, the King's advisor warned him that the appropriate mourning period was nearing its close and that he should choose a new wife or risk upsetting the kingdom's citizens. Disinterested in trying to again marry for love, the King instructed the advisor to procure for him a suitable wife. The advisor sought out the woman considered most beautiful throughout the kingdom, and she soon became the new Queen. But she, as it turned out, was a vain and unaffectionate woman who seemed to feel love for no one but herself. The sole possession she brought with her to the castle was a large mirror which she would stand in front of for hours on end some days. The King could not be bothered with the Queen's eccentricities. The two interacted very little if at all, and were truly married only in title. The Queen was enraged by this, not because she had any affection for the King, but because she loathed the idea that anyone could bear not to focus their attention on her. The fact that the King, instead, focused all his attentions on his young daughter, made her blood boil.

The new Queen, to Snow White, was a strange and frightening woman. Never before had a person looked upon Snow White and felt any negative emotion. Even those who did not know her were charmed by her young beauty and incurable optimism. But not this Queen. When she looked at the young princess, hatred burned in her eyes, and Snow White saw it, though she did not know what it was. It was not something she had ever known, never mind felt, and it frightened her. She did not know what to make of these looks. Of course, as long as the King lived, the Queen relegated herself to silent hatred of the princess, never voicing her feelings. And Snow White, never knowing what the looks meant, kept herself quiet as well. After ten years without his beloved Queen, the King finally succumbed to his grief. Never a day had gone by that he hadn't mourned for his first wife. No one could say he wasn't a strong man for surviving so long in such sadness. After so long, even the bright light in his life, his beautiful daughter, was not enough to keep him alive. Some thought that the new Queen's negativity—for everyone saw it, though they couldn't deny her outer beauty—was to blame for the King's eventual death. Others suspected that the Queen may have even been slowly poisoning her husband's food. But no one had any proof of either. One thing was for sure, though: the Queen's step-daughter, the lovely Snow White, was growing more beautiful by the day, both inside and out, and everyone could see it.

The King's funeral was attended by the ruling families of all the surrounding kingdoms. It was a vibrant affair, as the King would have wanted it, for Snow White's sake if for nothing else. There was good food, wine, and merry music. All this was overshadowed by the Queen's unhappy presence. But this was not in mourning for the King, and no one suspected that it was—instead, it was out of jealousy for the beautiful Snow White, as whispers said she was becoming more beautiful than her own step-mother. Snow White stepped away from the banquet that followed the funeral for some peace and quiet. She made her way to the wishing well in the garden and sighed as she leaned on the edge and looked down into the water. It was a decidedly unladylike pose, but being alone, she figured it would not matter.

"Princess Snow White."

Snow White looked up, quickly straightening her dress and brushing off the dirt as she fixed her posture. There, walking down the steps from the castle into the garden, was a familiar face. He was much older now, around twelve, Snow White imagined, but she was sure he was the young boy she had nearly kissed in the hall all those years ago. Every time she passed that tapestry, she thought of him.

"Hello," she said, simply. She wasn't even sure of his name, or his parents' name, or the kingdom he came from, but she knew his face and felt comforted by the familiarity.

"I'm sure you don't remember me," the Prince said. "But we met once before—"

"But I do remember you," Snow White said sweetly. "You made a wish in the wishing well and you wouldn't tell me what it was."

"Ah, yes," the Prince said, seeming to have forgotten that part. "I remember that now."

"Do you remember what that wish was?" Snow White asked eagerly.

"I do," the Prince nodded. "I'd like to make another, if you'll permit me."

"Of course," Snow White said.

The Prince walked to the well and stood by it for a moment, looking down into the water, before stepping away and back toward Snow White.

"What did you wish for?" she asked.

"Again I'd like to keep that to myself," the Prince said.

"Then I'll make another wish as well," Snow White said, stepping to the well to again wish for knowledge of the Prince's wish.

The Prince smiled at her knowingly, as if he knew what she had wished for. She didn't care much for that knowing smile, because she wanted to be the one who knew things. If her wishes ever came true, though, she would. And she still had faith in that old wishing well. The pair went for another walk around the garden, this time with the Prince pointing out things that he remembered from his last visit. They stopped when they came back around to the wishing well.

"Do we love each other?" the Prince asked.

"I don't know," Snow White said honestly, not quite sure what love was yet. "Maybe. Or maybe we will, someday."

"Princess, I—"

"Snow White!" a shrill voice shouted, and the two looked up at the castle in alarm. "Snow White—inside—now."

"That's my step-mother," Snow White said. "I have to go."

Usually the Queen had servant fetch Snow White, so if she was doing it herself, it must be rather important.

"But—wait—" the Prince said, fumbling.

"I'm sorry, I can't," Snow White said. "I'll see you again, I'm sure."

"How can you be sure?" the Prince called after her as she rushed up the steps.

"I just know," Snow White said.

II.

From that day forward, Snow White was no longer a princess. In title, of course, and officially, she was and always would be—nothing the Queen could do could change that, at least not while the princess was still alive. But no one in the kingdom had authority above the Queen, and no one could stop the Queen from dressing her step-daughter in ragged clothes and setting her up as a scullery maid. Had Snow White been born a hideous child, it was likely the Queen would have left her very much alone, for it was the Queen's own vanity and the princess's growing beauty that cursed the young girl. The Queen would do anything to maintain her position as the loveliest woman in the kingdom, and Snow White's inner beauty radiated outward and only enhanced her outer beauty, which grew more prominent every day. Even rags could not hide that, no matter how the Queen tried.

Four years after the death of her father, Snow White had become used to the work the Queen delegated to her. She did not like it, particularly, but she had become quite good at it, and she had found her little ways to make it more enjoyable—whistling and singing, making friends with the animals that roamed about the garden, and making daily stops by the wishing well as she scrubbed the cobblestones surrounding it. By this point, Snow White had determined the answer to the Prince's question—"Do we love each other?" She at least knew one half of the answer, anyway, and she hoped the question would be posed again someday so she could give the Prince her proper answer. She did love the Prince. When she thought of him, her heart fluttered and she wished she could kiss him like the couple in the tapestry still did to this day.

Most girls in her position would think of their situation with a heavy heart. Surely the Prince had already been married off to some eligible princess whose family dressed her in elegant gowns and sent her off to balls in foreign kingdoms. Surely he had not thought of Snow White since the last time they had seen each other. But Snow White did not think like this. She thought like no one else did. She was sure the Prince loved her every bit as much as she loved him, and she was sure that he thought of her every single day. She was sure he must write songs about her as she sang songs about him as she looked in the well each day.

One day, after scrubbing the stairs the Prince had walked down four years prior, she sang into the well:

I'm wishing… for the one I love… to find me… today.

Snow White didn't put much thought into the words she was singing, but she also wasn't thinking of a very vital fact: the fact that every wish made into the well was sure to come true. Her father had told her that when she was very young, and she had never forgotten it. And on this day, she had wished for the Prince to find her. Today.

She continued to sing and hum and go about her work, not knowing that the very Prince of her song was sitting atop the wall, watching her with loving eyes. He hardly noticed the rags she wore. He saw only her beauty, as he remembered it from four years before, only even more brilliant than it had been then. He hopped from his perch and moved to the well to stand beside her and finish a line of her song. Startled, Snow White looked up at him in surprise. She recognized him immediately—it was her Prince from four years ago, and from five or six years before that, and here he was. Suddenly, she was embarrassed by her ragged clothes—what would the Prince think of her now that she was nothing but a scullery maid? Not knowing her irrepressible beauty, Snow White fled to the relative safety of the castle and stood by the balcony, listening for any signs of life outside. And then the Prince began to sing to her, and everything she had imagined about him was true.

Quickly brushing off her unseemly dress and fixing her hair, Snow White ventured out onto the balcony to look down upon her Prince as he sang. He looked up at her with exactly the expression she wore on her face when she thought of him. When he finished his song, she went back down to the gardens to speak to him.

"It's you," she said, smiling. "I can answer the question now."

"As can I," the Prince said.

"And what would that question be?" a woman's deep, shadowy voice interrupted their brief conversation.

"Your majesty," the Prince said, dropping to one knee as Snow White bowed her head. "I came here to ask you for your step-daughter's hand in marriage."

The Queen looked at Snow White and her expression transformed into a hideous one, her lip curling under and her nose scrunching up.

"Absolutely not," the Queen said. "That is completely out of the question—this girl is unfit for marriage."

"I would have to disagree, your majesty—"

"How dare you disagree with the Queen of this kingdom?" the Queen boomed. "My word is law here, and you had best remember that. Now, leave my property before I am forced to declare war on your kingdom—and I think we both know who would win that war."

The Prince looked sadly at Snow White, but left. She knew it was for the good of his own people, and for her own good too. There was nothing he could do to help her immediately, and to press the matter would only result in more hardship for her, surely. Unfortunately, this particular event spurred the Queen to take more drastic measures immediately, as Snow White's appeal was becoming increasingly apparent.

III.

Of course, everyone knows the tale of what happened next, eventually resulting in Snow White choking on the Queen's poison apple. As she lay in her glass coffin, surrounded by her seven dwarf friends, her Prince found her, as he always would. When he heard of the girl who retained her beauty, even after death, he knew it could be none other than his beautiful Snow White. When he saw her lying there, he thought she must just be sleeping—she looked so peaceful. He knew, of course, that this was not the case, but he dismounted his horse and approached the casket anyway. He lifted the glass up to look at the only girl he had ever loved. She looked exactly as he remembered, and smelled as sweet. Hesitating only for a moment, he leaned down to do what he had always wished to do. He kissed her lips softly, wishing she could somehow kiss him back.

He straightened himself back up, prepared to walk away, when Snow White's eyes blinked and opened. He looked in surprise for a moment, and then smiled widely. He had always believed in the power of true love, but never had he imagined it could be quite so powerful.

"It's you," Snow White whispered.

"It is," the Prince said.

"Do we love each other?" Snow White asked.

"Only true love can break a spell such as this one," the Prince said. "So I suppose we must love each other truly."

"I have known for a long time that I loved you," Snow White said, her eyes brimming with tears.

"As I have loved you," the Prince said, and lifted Snow White out of her coffin, carrying her through the celebrating dwarfs to his awaiting steed.

The princess said goodbye to her friends and the pair rode off together.

"What was it you wished for at the well when we were children?" Snow White asked.

"I wished that I might kiss you," the Prince said.

"And when we were older?" she asked.

"I wished to marry you then," he replied.

"I think that wish shall be granted as well," Snow White said, wrapping her arms around her Prince for support. "After all, any wish made at that well will surely come true."