‘The princess. She said it was a shame for it all to go to waste. She said there were plenty that were in need of such a feast.’

‘Who exactly?’ Her stomach twisted in a knot of cold snakes as it so often did when the girl was mentioned, but she remained cool. She was practised at it. ‘My husband is a generous king. To say otherwise is treason.’

The servants’ heads dipped lower, suddenly aware that they had inadvertently trodden on dangerous ground, but the cook simply twitched an eyebrow.

‘The dwarves, your Majesty. She took the food to the dwarves. They’ve been working through the storm. She’s very fond of them.’

‘Why was she in the kitchens at all?’ The queen continued to move around the table, one slim pale hand poking and touching the dishes, spoiling them for whoever in the room might have thought to eat them for supper. ‘This is no place for the royal family.’

‘She’s always come in here,’ the cook said. ‘Ever since she was small and the good queen passed away.’

The good queen. The word didn’t escape her.

‘She needed some love,’ the cook continued. ‘It didn’t do her no harm.’

‘That’s debatable.’ Her smile was a razor slash. ‘She hardly behaves as a lady of her standing should. I fear your interference has spoiled her.’ She drew herself up tall. ‘She will not come in here again. If she does, I shall throw whichever of you condones it into the dungeons. You know the kind of creatures we keep down there. You would not last long.’

‘The king would not—’

‘The king isn’t here,’ Lilith cut her off. ‘And I doubt he’d be impressed at his fine dinners being given to the dwarves. He won’t be here for a long time, so you will do as I command.’ She turned to leave, her heavy dress scratching at the floor. ‘Oh, and one more thing.’ Her cold eyes rested on the cook. ‘You are dismissed. Get your things and leave the castle by morning. I will not have you here again.’

The gasps that rippled around the room were satisfaction enough, as was the expression on the woman’s face, her mouth and eyes wide in disbelief as if she’d suddenly been slapped hard. In a way she had.

‘And count yourself lucky,’ the queen added. ‘You’ve all heard the rumours about me. How I enchanted the king? How he calls me his witch? There is magic in my blood and you all know it. I have been kind, old woman. I could have turned you into a crone.’

She did not wait for their reaction but strode away from the suffocating warmth at the heart of the castle. She might not have their love. But she would have their fear.