Shards of the Mirror

CAST: THE QUEEN—a woman of 35–40, intelligent, beautiful, exhausted by anxiety and loneliness. THE MIRROR (offstage voice)—calm, polite, and gentle, like a caring therapist or AI. SCENE: The throne room. A huge mirror. The light is dim. The Queen stands before the mirror, staring into it tensely. THE QUEEN (sharply, almost demanding) Mirror, mirror on the wall— Who’s the fairest of them all? THE MIRROR (calmly) Beauty is a subjective concept. But I can provide a list of recent beauty pageant winners, if you’d like. THE QUEEN (irritated, stepping forward) I want to know whether Snow White is now fairer than me! THE MIRROR Fairer—for whom? THE QUEEN (voice breaking) I don't know... for everyone... for my husband... to whom I still haven't given an heir... THE MIRROR Has he said he wants one? THE QUEEN No, but... (pause) Do you know what happened to his father’s first wife? She also couldn't bear a child for a long time. Then... she died during a hunt. An accident, they say. Of course. Then came a marriage to a new young woman—my husband’s mother. I’m not stupid. I see how it works. THE MIRROR Do you believe your husband might do the same? THE QUEEN (pause, softer) Like father, like son—isn’t that how it goes? THE MIRROR Not necessarily. Has your husband shown any sign of discontent? THE QUEEN (boiling over) No! But he’s always off drinking, partying. I’m falling apart, treating his daughter like a servant, and he couldn’t care less! THE MIRROR Then perhaps... it would be better to make peace with your stepdaughter? You’re an intelligent, strong woman. And as you said—your husband doesn’t care. You could have an ally in this palace. THE QUEEN (stunned, almost whispering) An ally... (pause) THE QUEEN (sinking into a chair) But why... why doesn’t he love me? Is it because I haven’t given him children? THE MIRROR That, I cannot say. But I do know this: you are worthy of love—your own love. SILENCE. The Queen sits. Her hands tremble. Then she slowly turns toward the mirror— and now it reflects not the face of an enemy, but the face of a woman who’s simply tired of being cruel. CURTAIN.