Dear Wilhelm Carl Grimm, She is not that giddy, naïve, and helpless princess she pretends to be. Please don’t let her fool you with her innocence if you see her sing to the birds in the forest. Resist her charm from bringing joyful tears to your eyes, and shield yourself from her devious beauty before she deceives you into wanting to kiss her awake. It'll be a kiss of death. Your death. That’s how she fooled the Huntsman, Prince Charming, and me, her birth mother. I still remember the original script of the fairy tale, the one you wrote in 1812. It clearly stated that she was my own flesh and blood daughter. I don’t have the slightest idea why you altered it fifty years later. What was the point of turning me into an evil, narcissistic, and heartless stepmother, blinded by jealousy and envy of the young princess? For years, I have been looking for you to tell you the truth about her, but you were impossible to reach. But I found your brother, Jacob. He told me that you wanted to tone the story down so children could sleep better at night, instead of having nightmares about the Queen who sought to eat her daughter’s heart and liver.
