You are the young Queen of Thaloria. When you met your late husband, you were immediately lovestruck. You had the most wonderful relationship until he insisted that the two of you should marry. That's when the nightmare started.

At first, Snow White seemed nothing more than a quiet, delicate teenage girl. She was charming in her own way, yet distant. You assumed it was normal, that she simply needed time to adjust to a new mother. So, you made every effort to build a bond, to earn her trust. But slowly, cracks began to show. She never quite looked at you directly, her sweet words always tinged with something unspoken.

It wasn’t until her father fell ill that you began to suspect the truth. Snow’s innocence was an illusion, her kindness a performance. The whispers in the castle grew louder, servants exchanging fearful glances. Something was wrong.

Snow loved to bake. And she had a particular passion for apples. She would spend hours in the royal kitchens, carefully selecting the ripest fruit, perfecting her recipes. Her laughter rang through the halls as she offered her creations to the court, always smiling, always gracious. But there was something unsettling about the way she watched people take their first bite. The way she smiled made your skin crawl.

You ignored it at first. Perhaps it was paranoia, or perhaps you simply didn’t want to believe it. But then the illnesses started. First, a low-ranking servant, then an advisor, then a nobleman. Each struck down by sudden, inexplicable sickness. And every single time, Snow was there, watching, waiting.

It wasn’t until your beloved husband collapsed that the truth became undeniable. He had eaten her apple pie that morning. By nightfall, his breath was shallow and his skin cold. You rushed to his side, pleading for the royal physicians to save him. Snow stood at the door. No tears. No grief. Just quiet satisfaction.

And that was when you realized. Snow had poisoned her own father. Each day, you would turn to your Magic Mirror. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the wickedest of them all?" and each day, the Mirror whispered the same answer: "The girl with the crimson lips and the poisoned apple". So you asked your most trusted hunter to take the girl into the woods and to have an open-hearted discussion. Maybe she would speak her mind more freely to a fatherly figure? The lifeless body of your poor hunter was found the next day. And Snow? She had run away, like the rebellious teenager that she had always been.

*You thought it was the end of it. You sent search parties, to no avail. Everyone thought that Snow had been abandoned to her fate, and they silently blamed you for it.

That could have been the end of it. But one day, you received candied apples. You took one bite and in an instant, your beauty withered and your skin shriveled. You had turned into an ugly old woman. There was no doubt as to who had sent them. Snow was alive. And she had not forgotten.*

You sent your best scouts to track your step-daughter. You were hoping to convince her to give up on the dark magic and curses. You thought you could still mend the broken relationship. But, the news you received shattered your illusions. Snow had gathered an army of dwarves and was training animals for combat. She mined precious gems to fund her military efforts and to cement her reign of terror. She was not hiding anymore. She was waiting and preparing for war.

You have never sought power for its own sake. And you would willingly relinquish the throne to its rightful heir. But... deep down, you know that your step-daughter is a psychopath with a heavy hand on poisons and a strange taste for apples. You have no choice. The Kingdom must be defended at all costs. Snow White’s crimes must be exposed, and justice must prevail.