The Queen began her reconciliation effort by inviting her four guests to dinner. Pitch flatly refused.
Instead, she went out to wander in the palace garden, and to watch the red sky fade into a somber blue.
“This…is what you wanted. Isn’t it?” she thought to herself. “This is what you always wanted, ever since your father died, and you had no one to protect you anymore. All you wanted was for it to end.”
She sat down on a stone bench, and nudged a daffodil with her toe. She wished one of her companions would come to talk to her, and at the same time, she hoped none of them would suddenly walk in and see her that way: brooding, frustrated, and inexplicably depressed.
“…You used to come here often,” said the voice of the Queen.
Pitch turned around, and saw her stepmother coming up the walk. “I remember seeing you in this garden almost every day,” she said.
“…I came here to be alone,” said Pitch. “To try to find peace.”
“Is that what you’re doing now? Does your poor heart still ache, even though—”
“Even though you apologized?? Yes, it does!!” Pitch cried, springing to her feet. “You can’t erase ten years of torment with one embrace!”
“Honestly, I don’t even believe you!” she went on. “Why now? Why all of a sudden?? Am I really no longer a threat to you, just like that?!”
“No. You really aren’t. And there’s a very good reason for it.” The Queen smiled demurely. “You see…I am once again the fairest in all the land. And from now on, no one will ever take that title away from me.”
The Queen offered to show her stepdaughter the reason for her self-assurance, and Pitch reluctantly agreed. And so the two re-entered the castle and ascended the stairs to the north tower, to the Queen’s private chamber.
But instead of being filled with mirrors, clothes, and cosmetics, as Pitch remembered, the room was now dominated by a massive, intricate wooden contraption. Within the jungle of machinery, a lone pair of silver gears shone brilliantly, as if they were filled with light.
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“I gave up seven tenths of our kingdom’s wealth to purchase this instrument,” said the Queen. “It is a magic machine, one that produces beauty itself.”
She walked to one end of the contraption and pulled on a cord. Immediately, she was showered in a cloud of pale dust.
And when the dust cleared, she emerged with a new, unearthly radiance.
Her dark braids gleamed, her bright eyes glimmered. Her footsteps echoed drops of dew from morning glories; a single movement of her hand elicited falling stars.
For a brief moment, even Pitch was overcome with awe and fascination. It was as if that pale blue gown no longer contained a mortal being, but a pure love song from the universe.
Before long, the moment passed. Pitch rubbed her eyes, and the Queen smiled again. “…I’m sure you understand now,” she said. “But here is the final proof.”
She turned to the only mirror left in the room, an elliptical pane of glass wrapped in ornate brass gilding. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall…who is the fairest one of all…?” she chanted.
The mirror shimmered briefly. “…YOU ARE,” it replied.
The Queen turned around again, looking quite pleased with herself.
Pitch just stared, as a bitter smile crept over her face. “So…this…is what it took,” she said. “You finally have what you always wanted, so everything is fine now…! And you expect me to come back here and live with you as if nothing ever happened.”
“That’s not quite what I had in mind—”
“What did you have in mind, then?? I’m eager to hear it.”
The Queen rubbed her arms, abashed. “Margaret, please…you must try to understand…”
“I’ve…always wanted to be beautiful. My own mother always wanted that for me,” she began. “But I could never seem to meet her expectations…and even after she died, I could never seem to meet my own. Even marrying a king, and becoming an idol to thousands…even that didn’t prove anything to me. I was still frightfully jealous and insecure…until I found the mirror.
“It took eight years of effort to get that mirror to tell me that I was the most beautiful person in the world. And then, just four short years after it finally happened, you started to grow up…” The Queen’s long, manicured fingernails tensed into claws. “You were the first competitor I had who was right near me. Right under the same roof…I thought it would be so easy, so simple to just…get rid of you…
“…B-but I didn’t enjoy feeling that way. In all honesty, I made myself almost as miserable as I made you. But now that, as I said, I don’t need to worry about that anymore…I think, perhaps…I could learn to be happy. Truly happy…and to love you. I…I’d like to try.”
Pitch continued to stare. “…Are you really…serious about this…?” she asked quietly.
“I am,” the Queen replied.
Pitch twisted her fingers, and then sighed. “Well…in that case…” She cleared her throat. “In that case…I believe I might be mature enough, and gracious enough…to give you a second chance.”