‘May I introduce Agard, Prince of the Far Mountains, home of the Giants.’ She smiled again and took the enormous man’s hand, leading him into the party. Dresses rustled as men and women pulled away from them creating a path, not entirely out of politeness. The queen wasn’t the only one who was shocked. No one had been near the Far Mountains for as long as she’d been alive, and probably not in the generation before either. How could Snow possibly have . . .?

‘We’ve been communicating by dove since I found one injured in the forest with a message attached to its leg and restored it to health. The prince wanted to reach out to distant people, and he found me.’

The strange couple moved further and further into the room, taking remarkably short steps given the man’s height, the queen noticed. Was he compensating for Snow White? How could he possibly have got into the castle without one of her spies telling her? And how could she have possibly fallen in love with this giant, as it seemed clear she had?

Her eyes fixed on their progress, Lilith tried to relax. It didn’t matter which man Snow White chose. In fact, this creature might be a blessing in disguise. The king would surely disapprove of their union – what monstrous children would they create, for one thing? – and it was unlikely that Snow White would ever be allowed to return from the Far Mountains. The girl was embarrassing herself, but she was also doing all of Lilith’s work for her. She needn’t have wasted time and money inviting all the princes to a grand ball. Perhaps she should have just called for a circus or a freak show and given her step-daughter more to choose from.

As they approached, she walked forward to meet them and then curtseyed deeply at the giant’s feet. Snow’s curtsey might have been sensuous but the queen’s was elegant and flawless, her back remaining perfectly straight. She made the gesture seem so effortless, but hours of training and tears had gone into it when she was four years old. The backs of her knees had been bruised and bleeding from the thwacks of the ruler her instructress used to inflict if she didn’t do it perfectly. Her father, the king, would not accept less than a perfect princess for a daughter. She had become one for him, despite herself. Even if magic ran in her veins as well as royal blood. It was a man’s world and she had learned to play the game. What else could a woman with beauty and brains do?