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some say that long ago a young girl lost her way in the forest. It was late in the year, near the winter solstice, and the girl was cold, frightened, and hungry. She huddled beneath a stand of apple trees in the wood, and by some strange magic, the air around her became warmer, and the trees blossomed and bore fruit. The child was warm and fed throughout the entire winter. And when the springtime came, she was found by her overjoyed parents who thought they had lost her to the cold and the frost.”
    Snow White thought about this for a moment. And then she sat back in the carriage and smiled.
    “I wouldn’t want to be apart from you and Papa, Momma. But I do love apples, and it would be so nice to eat them for an entire winter!”
    The Queen and Verona looked at each other and smiled at the child’s innocence.
    The Queen then looked outside the carriage to notice much fanfare and anticipation in advance of her arrival.
    She felt guilty for not giving the villagers proper notice of her attendance. After all, she had announced that she would be attending the festival only two days prior. She customarily would not thrust herself upon them with so little notice, but she was desperate for a respite from the gloom of the castle.
    It seemed, however, that her lack of advance notice didn’t quell the villagers’ excitement, and as the three beauties exited the carriage a mass of subjects with apple blossoms in hand cheered on the Queen and her party. Petals floated in the air dreamily, settling around, over, and on them. The Queen noticed how striking the light pink petals looked in Snow’s dark hair, and noted to herself that she should have a dress of the lightest pink made for Snow. She smiled at her subjects and then took her seat to watch the festivities. Snow munched on tarts as she looked at the many pretty young girls presenting themselves before the Queen in hopes of becoming this year’s Apple Blossom Maiden.
    “You’re prettier than any of those girls, Momma. Don’t you think, Verona?” Snow asked.
    But Verona was distracted by a message that had just been delivered to her by a young porter.
    The Queen noticed the letter in Verona’s hands, and leaned over to ask her what it said.
    Verona folded the letter. Then her face brightened. She whispered to the Queen.
    “My lady, the King will be home this evening!”
    “Will he? We have so much to prepare before he arrives!” The Queen wanted to rush back to the castle that very moment, but she had committed to this event, and she could not let Snow or the people of the kingdom down.
    “Send a letter back with the porter to the other servants,” the Queen whispered to Verona, “Tell them I wish to make the grandest holiday of the King’s return.”
    And as the Apple Blossom Festival wound down and the Apple Blossom Maiden was chosen, it was all the Queen could do to keep her mind off her husband’s return. She decided that she would arrange a magnificent feast of roasted pig—her husband’s favorite—and for herself and Snow, pheasant in wine sauce with wild mushrooms. The table would sag under the weight of the platters of exquisite candied pears, glazed apricots, roasted red potatoes with rosemary, and jugs of warm spiced cider and wine. Everyone in the castle would eat well in celebration of the King’s return.
    The Queen, unable to contain the good news any longer, told Snow of her father’s return during their carriage ride home. And when they arrived back at the castle, the Great Hall was already filled with glowing candles, warm fires, and friendly conversation. Snow hurried upstairs with Verona to clean up and dress for her father’s arrival. The Queen, for her part, did the same—frantically scouring and perfuming herself, painting her face, doing up her hair. And all the while she wore a brilliant smile.
    When she arrived at the court, Snow was already there—she looked so small and delicate sitting in her high-back chair in this great hall.