Fairest of All

Once upon a time, there was a mirror shop.

The owners were a middle-aged woman and a middle-aged man. They had been happily married for years, and in their younger years the woman had given birth to three children.

Aurelia, Adeline, and Ada.

The man and woman had only opened the shop a year before Ada’s birth. It was cramped with all three sisters together, so once Aurelia married at eighteen, she took Adeline with her, leaving Ada alone with her parents.

Now, growing up in a shop that sold only mirrors meant that each and every day, Ada started and ended her days by looking at her reflection.

To be surrounded by oneself for such a prolonged period of time ensured Ada grew up vain and obsessive with her face.

Which made the subject of no man wanting her even more of a sore spot.

Correction - it made the subject of no man perfect enough wanting her hand in marriage a sore sport.

Ada had received countless requests for courtship but had turned each one down.

“If my children were to have his nose, they would die alone.” She remarked about the cobbler's son.

“I shall not take the risk of my children having bucked teeth.” She commented about the bakers boy.

“It would be an insult to my perfect ears to be seen on the arm of someone with such large ones.” She sneered about the carpenter's lad.

Eventually, word spread through the town of Ada’s selfishness, and seemingly overnight, the marriage proposals ceased.

Ada - of course - took this as a personal offence.

“It’s not my fault they’re all ugly!” She cried to her mother.

And so Ada resorted to moping about the shop staring at her face, wondering how someone so beautiful could be so unwanted.

Despite her vain nature, Ada was not entirely wrong about her looks, however. She had raven black hair that framed her heart shaped face. Her almond eyes were emerald green with thick, dark lashes. Her nose was not too large, nor too small. Her cheeks were slightly paler than she wished, but she easily solved that issue by pinching them each morning when she woke up. Finally, she had full, blood red lips that contrasted against her snow-white skin.

It was without a doubt she was beautiful. But perhaps not as stunning as Ada had led herself to believe.

On top of this obsession with herself, Ada - in her youth - had made up a rhyme to recite in every mirror she looked in.

“Mirror Mirror, on the wall,” She would chant to her reflection, watching as her presumed perfect lips moved. “Who’s the fairest of them all?”

Of course, the mirror would not answer nor change, leaving Ada’s silent reflection staring back at her. With a haughty smile, she would take her unchanged face as the mirrors answer - that she, of everyone in the whole wide world, was the fairest of them all.

Now, Ada’s mother and father had tried desperately to get her to consider accepting one proposal of the thousands she had received. But nothing they said could sway their daughter, each time getting the same answer in reply.

“You only want to get rid of me!” Ada would pout. “You don’t care about me or who you marry me off to!”

Not wanting to further upset their little girl, the parents would drop the matter, waiting patiently for the next chance to persuade Ada.

But when the proposals stopped, they saw no chance ever of seeing their youngest daughter wed.

Years went by, and soon, Ada had turned twenty-one. Two marriage proposals had been offered in the last four years, and both had been declined after one look from Ada.

Three months and twelve days into her twenty-first year, Ada was alone in the shop, her parents visiting Adeline, her husband, and their new baby daughter in the same town where Aurelia lived.

Technically, Ada was supposed to be managing sales but was nowhere to be found when the door to the shop opened and closed. Instead, she was in the very back corner of the store, contently gazing at herself in mirror with a gilded frame. She ignored the call of the customer, hoping they would disappear if there came no reply. After a few moments, Ada heard silence before the door opened and closed once more.

“Mirror Mirror, on the wall,” she said to herself. “Who’s the fairest of them all?”

After waiting a moment, Ada got the answer she desired.

The rest of the day passed with no other customers entering the store. The sun had dipped below the awning outside the shop, and golden light poured inside. It refracted of the hundreds of mirrors, making the walls sparkle. Ada glanced upward and caught eye of a pretty little handheld mirror she hadn’t noticed before.

Deciding she wanted it, Ada planned to climb to get it. Putting her weight on the shelf, she soon discovered the old thing couldn’t hold her weight. The wood splintered beneath her fingers, sending mirrors crashing to the ground. Ada screamed as they shattered, tiny shards of glass slicing her arms and face. Red smeared her skin as Ada stood, stumbling toward to nearest unbroken mirror.

Fortunately, the glass had not cut her eyes. Unfortunately, this meant Ada was able to see the way her porcelain skin and perfect features had been torn to shreds; the cuts so horrific almost no part of her face was recognizable.

“AARRGGGHHH!” She shrieked, over and over. Blood poured down her face and arms, smearing together with tears. Ada clawed at her cheeks, trying to remove the red stains but it only caused the cuts to bleed further.

Stumbling blind toward the door, blood pouring into her eyes, Ada swiped a cloak from the stand by the doorway, throwing it across her shoulders and pulling the hood down low in order to hide her mutilated features. Then she sprinted through the town, sobbing.

I have to leave. Ada thought to herself. I have to leave this awful place.

Eventually, Ada exhausted from running for so long. Night had fallen, and if she looked backward, Ada could still see the lights of the town through the trees.

Having travelled for almost two hours, Ada had left the town and was deep in the forest that surrounded the town. Nightlife encircled her on all sides, their noise deafening and terrifying to a girl who hadn’t travelled further than twenty metres from her home in three years.

Ada’s cuts had stopped bleeding, and her skin was sticky with blood. Above, the moon was full and cast an abundance of light. Through the trees, Ada could see a vast amount of…something. It looked like glass.

Winding her way through the trees, Ada found herself at the edge of a lake that stretched wider than she could make out. She collapsed to her knees on the bank, ignoring the burning thirst in her throat. Ada gazed at her reflection in the still water.

An unfamiliar, horribly disfigured face stared back.

A sob tore from Ada’s throat, and she smashed a fist through the surface of the water, dissipating the reflection. She screamed, not caring if anyone heard because they probably couldn’t.

Falling to her side, Ada cradled her face in her hands. Tears leaked through her clenched-shut eyes, stinging the lacerations on her cheeks. She launched herself at the water, plunging her face through the icy cold liquid. Gasping, Ada came up for air. Now, her cheeks stung from cold, not tears. She rested her palms on her skin, thinking of how each morning she would wake up and pinch them to attain the natural blush look she desired so dearly. Would she ever be able to do that again?

A light snow began to fall.

Tracking a single flake as it fell from the heavens, Ada’s heart yearned at the memory of her own used-to-be porcelain white skin. Now it was stained an angry red, possibly forever.

Bring her knees to her chest, Ada’s eyes fluttered closed.

Her eyes felt like they had been closed only a minute before the first rays of sunlight began to kiss her scarred face. Eyes fluttering open, Ada stood, stretching her arms above her head. Along her arms, the scabbed cuts split and began to bleed anew. Ada dropped her arms to her side, hissing against the pain. She started to examine the cuts when a call arose from the forest behind her.

“ADA!”

The call was faint, almost too hard to hear. But Ada heard it.

Instinctively, Ada knew it was most likely a search party.

Hungry and tired and in tremendous pain, Ada half-turned toward the forest before she stopped.

How could she face them?

They would surely ridicule her. She knew what they thought of her. She knew they considered her vain and selfish. She had always assumed them jealous.

Fisting her red hands, Ada charged into the forest. But rather than heading for the calls, she took a sharp left, destined to put as much space between her and her town as possible.

Ada had managed to loop back around to the lake. Shaking from exhaustion and thirst, Ada had fainted on the bank. When she awoke, Ada had gulped down water until she felt sick. Next, she had scrubbed the blood from her face and arms, cautious of the tender cuts. She did look somewhat like her old self without so much blood on her face, she had admitted. Then panic had worked its way back into every thought she had, and with all her strength, Ada got up and tried to run, but her legs were too weak to move that fast. So, she’d resulted to walking.

Now on the very edge of the forest, the trees had thinned significantly, and Ada could make out a road a few metres away. Staggering out of the forest, Ada began to follow the road. After following for several kilometers, her hopes lifted when she found a sign. ‘Arrick - 27 kilometers’ it read.

Arrick was the capital of the kingdom.

Ruled by King Freidrich and the late Queen Eva, who had died recently giving birth to their first daughter, Snow White.

Filled with a renewed sense of purpose, Ada followed the road all the way to the capital. A few caravans had offered her rides along the way, but Ada had declined them all, too embarrassed to show her face.

Eventually, Ada rounded a corner and found the gates to Arrick rising up in front of her. She joined the line of other travelers awaiting entry, following the shuffle of feet as the line moved.

Once at the front, Ada couldn’t fight the guard who tore back her hood, exposing her scarred face. Her cheeks burned but the guard didn’t take notice of her embarrassment.

“Reason for entry?” He grunted.

Ada fumbled around for an excuse. Her gaze landed on the black draped across every surface. The Queen’s funeral. "Queen Eva’s funeral, sir.”

The guard then asked her to reveal the inside of her coat to see if she was hiding anything. Once he trusted she carried no weapon, the guard stepped aside to let her pass.

Inside the gates, Ada yanked her hood back up. She found herself in the heart of a bustling market. Yells came from every direction, some from guards, most from merchants.

Overwhelmed by the sheer volume of it all, Ada wound her way through the crowds, finding herself in a quieter part of the city. Here, the market wasn’t nearly as crowded or loud. All the stalls seemed darker, and figures one would call shady lurked in alleyways. Sitting by the edge of a dried-up fountain, Ada watched the few people around go to and from stores lazily.

Nothing about it seemed too strange until she watched a woman with an abnormally large and crooked nose enter a tent and emerge a few minutes later with her nose straight and perfect.

Rising to her seat, Ada crossed over to the tent. She swept the dark cloth aside, stepping inside.

Incense burned her nose, and it took several moments for her vision to adjust to the reduced light.

“Hello?” Ada called.

There was no reply, and Ada squinted in suspicion. Then an old crone hobbled out of the shadows.

“Hello, darling.” The crone croaked. “How may I help you today?”

Ada cast a glance over her shoulder, a feeling of dread coming over her.

“I…uh…I don’t mean to pry, but I’m sure I saw a woman with…ah…with an…unusual facial feature come in here before exiting with said feature…fixed, I guess you could say.” Ada said.

The crone chuckled. The sound grated against Ada’s ears. “You guessed right.”

Not quite knowing what next to say, Ada knocked back her hood.

Immediately, the understanding spread across the crone’s features. She nodded her head and lifted a gnarled hand to Ada’s face. She grasped Ada’s chin, turning her face side to side. Ada tried not to recoil from her touch. Then the crone dropped her hand.

“The features of a queen, you have.” The crone said. She clicked her fingers.

The crone said nor did anything more, only stared at Ada.

“Ma’am?” Ada asked. “Can you help me?”

A wicked smile played on the crone’s lips. “I already have, child. See for yourself.”

The crone gestured to the wall on Ada’s right. Ada turned, her heart skipping a beat.

A mirror in an ornate gilded frame hung on the wall.

This time Ada truly did recoil as phantom pain of the glass cutting her all over again erupted along her face and arms. But that wasn’t the scariest part.

Ada clamped down on a scream as she took in her perfectly smooth skin. Creeping toward the mirror, Ada examined her healed face.

Again, she was beautiful. Just like she had been before Leopold had just about destroyed her.

“Mirror Mirror, on the wall,” she whispered instinctively. “Who’s the fairest of them all?”

For the first time in twenty-one years, the reflection changed.

“You are, my dear.” Said the man’s face that appeared there.

Ada screamed, falling backward. The crone cackled, reaching up to stroke the glass of the mirror.

“My magic mirror.” She said lovingly.

By now, the face in the mirror had disappeared, seemingly normal glass in it’s place. Ada rose to her feet and approached the mirror carefully.

“H-how?” She asked.

“Old, old magic.” The crone replied.

“Does it tell the truth?” Ada continued.

The crone smiled. “It’s supposed to.”

Ada suppressed a grin, and it was at that moment Ada realized she may need to pay the old crone. “How can I ever repay you? Mind you, I haven’t any money.”

The crone eyed Ada carefully. “Are you married?”

“No.”

“How come? Surely a lovely maiden such as yourself has had a thousand proposals?”

Ada straightened, lifting her chin. “I turned them all down. I found none of them sufficient.”

“Ah ha.” The crone nodded her head as if she finally understood. Then she waved her hand. “I have no use for money. I find promises have a lot more value.”

Ada frowned. It was such a bizarre request. If she were the crone, she would have much preferred money. “What can I promise you?”

“Change your ways. Be less selfish. If you can do so, if you can realise your looks are not all that matter, your debt will be paid off.” A malicious glint came to the crone’s eye. “Break this promise, and it is up to fate to decide how to punish you.”

Ada repressed the urge to roll her eyes. Believing in magic was a stretch. Believing this old crone could tell when she broke a silly little promise, that was near impossible for Ada.

“I promise.” Ada said matter-of-factly.

The crone eyed her before smiling. She waved toward the tent entrance, dismissing Ada.

Ada stepped outside once again. With her restored beauty, she no longer felt the need to hide her face. She retraced her steps back to the main market and reveled in the awed looks cast her way.

That night, Ada found refuge in an inn toward the centre of Arrick. The owner had let her stay there if she helped to wiped down tables for the evening. She agreed, but didn’t feel the sparse and uncomfortable lodging had been worth all that work.

Ada decided her first mission in the city would be to find a husband.

If she tried hard enough, she could possibly find a lord or baron in need of a wife.

The next day, Ada was woken by a fanfare of trumpets. She slid out of bed to the small window.

On the street below, it seemed the entire kingdom was there. Each and every individual was clad in black. The crowd was split down the centre where a long black chariot carried a long black coffin.

Realization dawned on Ada. Today was the Queen Eva’s funeral.

Walking behind the chariot was a lone figure, also in black. The gold glinting on his brow told Ada immediately who this was.

The king.

In his arms, Ada could just make out the squirming figure of who could only be the princess Snow White.

Then the king looked up, his eyes somehow finding Ada’s.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The king was more handsome than she’d ever thought, and certainly better looking than any man she’d met before.

A lord, a baron, she thought. Or a king, in need of a wife.

And within a second, any lingering thought of the old crone and her promise vanished from Ada’s mind, replaced with a drive that fueled her very core.

I think, Ada mused. That magic mirror would make a lovely wedding present.