Author’s Note: This story was written for an assignment in my Introduction to Fairytales class asking us to do a retelling from another character’s perspective. I chose to do Snow White from the Evil Queen’s point of view, focusing on how the male gaze, female competition, and the fear of aging creates monstrous women.
Read while listening for maximum immersion🎧
Grimhilde struggled in vain to hide the disdainful look on her face at witnessing the king and his court doting upon little Snow White. Although her stepdaughter was but a young rosebud, the resemblance was as clear as the falling snow outside their gilded windows. With each day that the princess grew into the image of her mother, King Richard drifted further away until the queen was nothing more than a decorative, marble statue.
His eyes said it all. In his heart, there was only Queen Katherine and Snow White. His soft gaze no longer went in her direction, perhaps it never had to begin with. After Queen Katherine had passed, she at first only wanted to raise her station, to prove she was worthy of bearing a royal title even as a mere merchant’s daughter. But when she met the king she quickly fell in love with his warm, courageous nature. She foolishly believed that—at least at one time—he had truly loved her, that he had seen past her beauty to recognize a cleverness within.
Were these affections only a ruse, a convenient lie he told himself to sleep easier at night? She winced at recalling how he used to only whisper her name and not that dreaded woman’s. Even though she was alive, even though she was the fairest in all the realm, it still was not enough. It meant nothing to him because she was not Katherine.
This filled her with an indescribable pain as thorny vines tore at her hardened heart. Standing up from her throne with her chin held high, she glared at Richard and his beloved daughter, leaving the royal hall without anyone so much as making even a passing glance.
Her footsteps echoed through the empty corridors as she made her way down the spiral staircase to her secret, solitary chamber. It was in this room that she kept all the mysterious wares she acquired from her father, the most prized among them being a magic mirror from a strange land across the sea. Looking at her reflection, she assured herself that not even her daughter could become more beautiful than she was. The mirror would agree.
Grimhilde beheld herself proudly and she quite stated the fact rather than asked, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who in this realm is the fairest of them all?”
Behind a cloud of mist the face of a masked man appeared, consuming her own image entirely. He spoke in a voice, low and final, “You, my queen, may have a beauty quite rare, but Snow White is a thousand times more fair.” Once the mirror had spoken its disturbing truth, he disappeared, leaving the queen alone in her dark chamber.
What? A vein in her forehead twitched and her brows contorted hideously together, giving her the appearance of a gargoyle for the merest of moments. A thousand times more fair? The wretched girl was but seven years of age! How was it possible? Her fingers curled inward, holding back the urge to shatter the insolent mirror into a thousand, tiny little pieces.
All she had at her disposal was her beauty, it was the one consolation she clung to that might bring Richard’s affections back to her in time. And yet…even those sparkling waters were running dry, were they not? How long could she hope to wield her lovely appearance, to lure him into their marriage bed for but a crumb of his past adoration? Reluctant tears welled up in her eyes, and as they seeped into her mouth, they were briny on her tongue.
Reflected back to him each and every day through the likeness of their daughter, Katherine would forever remain young and beautiful. Meanwhile, Grimhilde would grow old. Wrinkles would claim her supple skin, crows feet would brand her face, and her curves would sag away into insignificance. Bringing herself closer to the magic mirror, her eyes widened in horror, helpless as the transformation already began to manifest itself. It was subtle, but she felt it trickling its way through her veins nonetheless. An aching lethargy, a slow throbbing, strength and youth and beauty—gone forever. An old hag, a queen regent, a crone wearing a crown.
Is this what she would become? Watching as Richard’s love was freely given to that damned Snow White? To a dead woman that was nothing but a skeleton underneath the ground?
No. No. It cannot happen. It will not…She would not allow it.
Grimhilde flung herself towards the grimoire bookshelf, clutching at the tome marked with strange symbols, written with words she swore to herself she would never come to understand. She knew, if she ever gave in to its dark power, her soul would be forever twisted by it. In time, the queen would lose herself in the madness induced by its witchcraft.
No matter. If it meant her freedom from this suffering, from the slow crawl towards becoming a living ghost in her own castle, she would do any wicked deed necessary, succumb to any insanity. Her book flew open to a page scrawled with the instructions of a foul ritual.
“If youth is what you seek, then the heart of a young maiden you must eat.”
A pang of apprehension seized Grimhilde. Could she hope to turn away from this? Staring down at her slowly withering hands, the thought of little Snow White so much like her mother was all the answer she needed.
Her heart she must eat.
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If you enjoyed this story, check out some of my other ones:
Disney villains are just princesses whose wishes didn't come true... I love everything about the Evil Queen's perspective. It's very true to her nature, yet it gives her a layer of humanity you can feel for. Brilliant! 🖤
I like a lot the idea of telling the story from the perspective of an evil queen who has her own reasons for being evil. Her inner torment and the war she waged within herself—a war she ultimately lost. While everyone praises positive heroes, I am always grateful to writers who try to understand the reasons behind negative characters.