As if reading her thoughts, Marien said, “So, are you going to marry that young prince of yours one day?”
“What?” Snow asked.
“You know, that prince of yours, that you going running off into the forest with all the time. I see it from up here, you aren't very good at hiding it, but I think I'm the only one who knows,” Marien said happily, her old voice still sweet.
“Oh, no, you are mistaken. William is no prince. He's only a village boy, I could never marry him, I mean, princesses and peasants can't be together,” Snow said, realizing it for the first time. She had never thought about marriage before, however, she was just about old enough to marry. Most girls were married when they were about fifteen. Snow still felt like a child. Marien clucked her tongue, making atsk, tsk, tsk noise.
“I never said he was a prince. I know a village boy when I see one,” said Marien, “ I said he was your prince. I had my own prince once too, you know. He is waiting for me in heaven now, but he will have to wait a little longer.” Marien sighed with joy in memories and of grief.
“I- I don't understand,” Snow said.
“You will,” Marien sighed, “but remember, never let anything interfere with true love, not even you being a princess. Now, get on your night gown, it is far past your bedtime.”
-McKenzie Stewart
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