Snow woke up cold in her cold, little room in the farthest corner of what is now her step-mother's castle. She sat up hugging herself to keep warm in the late winter air. She had woken up from a dream she has seen so many nights. She glanced up at the weak fire that was now nothing more than charred coal and a flicker of smoke. Seeing the beam of light on the ground, she got up. She flinched as her tiny feet touched the cold dirt floor and walked to the wide window and pulled back the thick curtains. The warm sunlight lit up her delicate, pale face that shone off her dark ebony hair. She saw the beauty of outside. The sun just brightened the last of the frost sparkling on the grass and shining, melting ice still clinging to the bark of the leaf-less trees. Oh, how she wished to roam out again just she and her father did when she was a little girl. Back when she was a princess. Now, from her elegant gowns and small tiara, to rags and bare feet. She was given the most delightful sweets and delicious feasts but is now reduced to the gruel that the servants are served. After so many years, she accepted her step-mother's true nature of jealousy toward her natural beauty. But in the name of her dear late father, she remained grateful to all she was given. After all, she is the only heir to the throne, right? She wanted be like anything but her step-mother when she ruled.