The birds sing and nest in the tree. The woodsman has no knack for growing things. He likes chopping things down. By the time he discovered his stash of gold and precious stones, he’d done a lot of chopping, and all around his home there was nothing but bare earth, which the rain and the snow eroded. His axe dreams it has been mistreated. There are landslides every day. That’s why the birds take refuge in the peach tree. With nothing like it for miles around, it’s like the capital of Eden. And they would do anything Anna asks, because the woodsman’s daughter has given them their only shelter.

The birds protect her. She is hungry no longer. She is cold no longer. But she continues to sleep in the ashes in the kitchen, and the three women continue to mistreat her while her father pays her no heed. Her face is always dirty, like her clothes.

One day, there is a proclamation from the king: all the young women in the kingdom are invited to a ball. The king is seeking a wife for his son. He’s tired of him being a bachelor, tired of him rejecting all the candidates he proposes, tired of him carousing like a madman; the king wants him to settle down. And he wants a grandson, to secure the future of his crown. If he leaves the prince to his devices, the crown will pass out of the family.

“What, there’s not a single woman who lives up to your expectations?” he harangues his son each morning. And at lunchtime, “I offer you the hand of an emperor’s daughter, and you reject her. What’s wrong with you? Why is no one good enough for you?” In the evenings, the tone of the king’s discourse is more elevated. “Do you want something better than reality?”

“Let’s start with your choice of words, Father. Can you call a young lady ‘something’? They’re people!”

When Anna’s stepsisters hear the proclamation, they begin preparing their outfits, overjoyed. Anna asks permission to go. She’s not thinking of the prince, and far less of finding a husband. She just wants to dance.

“Absolutely not. How dare you even ask? You should have asked your father to bring you a dress from the fair! But you missed that opportunity. What will you wear? We’d be ashamed to be seen with you,” her stepmother shoots back spitefully.

“Please, ma’am….”

“Out of the question. And call me mother! How impertinent, calling me ma’am!”