People either grow out of the naïve theory that people can and should be good all the time or they're villains or they grow into people who refuse to see how evil their actions are (such as extreme neglect of a person who needs genuine kindness who ends up committing suicide but wouldn't have if just one person had shown them respect and love—and the blind bat turns around and claims if the person had come to her, she would have welcomed with love, but it is only a show for society to think, gee what an amazing woman!). The more perfect and charismatic one seems, the crueler they are behind a curtain.

Reul Ghorm, on the contrary, tried to seem good in all ways while preying upon and exploiting those naïve girls who believed fresh roses bloomed from their rear ends.

As for Snow White, daughter of Queen Eva…

Reul Ghorm didn't know what to make of her. Unlike Eva, Snow did not grow defensive when Reul tried to lecture her. She didn't burst into tears or deny Reul's criticisms. She didn't argue why every action she took bloomed roses in her footsteps. Or, "It's not my fault a servant pricked his flesh on a thorn."

Snow was an enigma. Reul Ghorm couldn't put her finger on her, and that gave the ten-thousand-year-old fairy the uneasy feeling that Snow was immune to manipulation.

No human should be immune to manipulation! It went against their very nature. They all had to be malleable. Even the strongest, richest person could be broken with the right abuse. Torn from society, shamed and burned. Hated and shunned after being loved and welcomed.

With the right half-truths and heavy implications, she could make best friend sisters turn on one another like a pair of male lions fighting over a lioness in heat. She'd induced a woman who used to love her sister (her only family) to despise and distrust the woman so deeply that she ended up beating her to death with a frying pan. Trusting a fairy over a woman she'd known all her life, because she'd heard that fairies never lie and always have your best interest at heart. It was too easy. She didn't even try to deny it when she was accused. Stood there, sulking with her arms folded over her chest, sniping, "She deserved it."

The worst thing Reul Ghorm did to her wasn't the death of her sister (which was what Reul had been shooting for, as the sister had curtsied sarcastically before the Blue Fairy, thus infuriating her). It had been the despair. The lost faith in humanity. The lost faith in herself for the murderess.

Reul Ghorm had stripped her of the security of knowing no matter what trials come her way, at least her sister loved her. Always.

In her wake, she left a woman who believed no human liked anyone. That they only used each other. That she was and forever would be alone.

Reul Ghorm was proud of heself for giving the woman that mountain to climb.

But if she was so good at her bloody craft, why couldn't she bring Princess Snow White to her heels with a snap of her fingers or fill her with inner shame?

Snow was on the brink of driving Reul mad. She needed that bloody gauntlet she heard was in Prince Gaston's land so she could control the filly.

Snow was in her aviary, pllaying with the pretty white birds. She wore an angelic dress that had straps hanging from her shoulders that left a gap on each arm before closing in long bell sleeves around her lower arms. There was a silver necklace poking out of the neckline. It dipped below the fabric and left a small circular imprint. Snow's eyes crinkled as she stroked her birds' feathers. Reul Ghorm was following her.

"Snow, are you listening to me?"

"Tem-per," intoned the princess benevolently. "You forget your place."

"Your Highness." Reul Ghorm curtsied to Snow's back. She knew the woman dabbled sporadically in magic in spite of it irking Reul. Likely, if she didn't curtsy, the princess would use the eyes-behind-her-head magic and scold Reul for that. "Are you listening?"

Unlike Snow, Reul needed a wand for magic, but she typically used her tongue. The gauntlet (which she had no previous need for or it'd already be in her possession) would be most helpful when dealing with this woman.

"I am listening," intoned Snow jovially as she petted Jasmine, her favorite bird. "Probably not in the way you want me to," she admitted dreamily.

"What do you have to say? The queen wants you to be the one to decide, since you are nearly twenty. She was fifteen when she made her first warfare decision. It's past time for you."

Snow shook herself. "But I have decided," she answered earnestly as she took the happy bird in her gentle, caressing hands and pivoted on her heel to face her advisor. "I'm not doing it." She planted a kiss on the side of the blushing bird's forehead.

Reul jumped backward, eyes bewildered. "King George is a savage!" she glowered.

"Yeah, he sunk Queen Aurora's ships. They did try to raise taxes. I'll admit he could have handled that debacle less childishly, but I honestly don't comprehend," she lifted her caressing hand from the bird (who contentedly remained in her cupped hand), "why you," Snow jabbed Reul Ghorm in the chest, "are so obsessed with despising King George. What the devil did he do to you?"

"That's not how ladies talk," Reul chided churlishly.

Snow lifted and lowered her bare, beautiful shoulders in a gracefully womanish manner. "I'm nineteen, sweetie. Maybe I don't want to be a lady."

Reul was scandalized. Electricity jumped off her body as her hair—reduced to a tight bun—went springing every which way. The whites of her eyes enhanced, and she wrinkled her nose with a scowl. Shortly, she barked, "Nonsense! You don't want what?"

The princess scratched the edge of her nose. Lifting her forefinger to her temple, she condescendingly commanded, "Grow up, Reul."

Reul snapped her mouth shut in surprise. She couldn't believe the shocking princess could still shock her.

She finally managed to sputter, "You have no idea how you should dole out your loyalties."

Snow frowned, coaxing the bird out of her palm. "I mean no disrespect," she uttered icily, "but I don't need a woman who can turn into a wolf to tell me I'm on friendly terms with Queen Arora, nor do I need a woman who can make snow fall at a flick of her wand tell me how to lead. Your job is to advise, not bully me. Queen Aurora and King Philip have the best seafood and most creative minds for novels and plays. And we have the ivory and elephants they travel to look at.

"But, my dear, I hardly see what going to war against King George would accomplish."

Patting her on her delicately pretty shoulder, Reul assured her, "I am your advisor. Let me do the thinking for you. Don't trouble your pretty little mind over complicated things that could lead to migraines that fill your lovely brain with pus-ridden tumors. Let me do the painful stuff. You need to put your faith in me."

Snow regarded her with sharp scrutiny. "You hate him," she surmised. Reul Ghorm blanched. "Why?" challenged the future queen.

"That is none of your concern."

"If you wish me to sneak false traitors into his palace to demolish it under the pretense of working there, I believe it is my concern," Snow stated levelly.

Reul's neck tensed. "I have a good reason! Queen Aurora's kingdom needs our protection!"

Bored, Snow deflected, "They have a good army. Besides, Queen Aurora didn't declare war yet. She even admitted to me in letter that she feels she may have overtaxed King George because she didn't like how he addressed her when he visited her kingdom or the way he addressed the King Midas dragon mishap. King George is a bit of a tyrant, everyone knows that except some naïve rainbow-hugging dip. But hating someone…that's personal. What did he do?"

Reul kept her tongue between her teeth.

Snow deduced, "This si a waste of my time." Narrowing her eyes at the fairy, she enlightened, "I won't hear any more of it. If you force me to listen anyway, I'll have you turned back into a fairy with thirteen sorcerers so I can order you on a chopping block and have your wings severed."

Reul's eyes rounded and lips parted with fear. Then she curtsied. "As you wish, princess."

Unable to stand the ring outline she saw pressing under the maiden's gown, she said, "What's this?" and reached inside Snow's gown to unsheathe the engagement band. Her eyebrows rose six inches off her head—as only a fairy's can—when she glimpsed it. "Who gave that to you?" she gasped, appalled that something so large had escaped her notice.

Removing the necklace chain from Reul's still, stiff grip, Snow intoned, "Advisor, you overstep yourself."

As she swished away, Reul Ghorm decided to take matters in her own hands.

She vanished to her office for parchment and pen.