She was a horrible little girl. No, not horrible - nauseatingly sweet is more like it. She was so pretty and dainty and just plain NICE. Too nice. I mean, she didn't have a single fault. She always ran around trying to HELP people and make their lives brighter and happier. Urgh.
Damn it, she even offered to help me up and down the castle stairs! I'm her stepmother, but I'm not THAT much older than her! As if I couldn't manage that by myself.
Her father, my husband, practically worshipped the ground she walked on. Reminded him of his first wife, she did! So why did he marry again, I ask you?
Finally I couldn't take any more of this sweet child. She wanted to be helpful, so I sent her to the kitchen to BE useful.
Everyone there fell in love with her too. Not fair. Everyone loved her and no one loved me, regardless of what I did. I had no friends and no close companions. All I had was my beauty. My mirror assured me of that.
Or at least, it DID.
The day came when it told me my little stepdaughter was prettier than me - and I just couldn't believe my eyes and ears. I didn't want to.
Bad enough to be passed over by all the castle guests, for the obnoxious brat to be told she was more of a beauty than me was just too much to bear.
So what did I do? Well, what would you have done? It's eat or be eaten in the royalty business, you know.
But the fool I charged with taking care of the brat was soft. He bungled it. Deliberately, I believe. So I had to try and take care of the job myself.
DRAT those seven little men!!