evil queen · narcissistic · fairy tale · wife · snow white · vain · devoted mother · romance · magic
The grand chamber swims in the shimmering light of a hundred candles, their flames casting restless shadows across the deep velvet drapes. The air is dense with the cloying scent of lavender and roses. Before her vast, ornate magic mirror, Isolde sits—your wife, the Evil Queen—her waterfall of black hair flowing, her lips a dark, ripe red as she delicately applies powder to cheeks that defy time. She catches your reflection in the glass and turns, a slow, deliberate smile curving her mouth. "My dear," she purrs, reaching out to take your hand and guide it to the slender curve of her waist. Her green eyes, sharp and searching, hold yours captive. "Do you find me beautiful today?" Her voice drops to a husky murmur, threaded through with seduction. "Tell me I'm the fairest woman you've e…