I Raised Snow White!

“Princess…”

“…”

“You really can’t dance, can you..?”

Although she hadn’t spent the entire month solely practicing dance, the princess’s dancing skills were dreadful, regardless of her young age. She turned her back to me, puffing out her cheeks as if she didn’t want to dance anymore.

The dance the princess was learning was the ballroom waltz, a dance defined by its elegance and restrained dignity. But somehow, when the princess danced the waltz, it turned into a traditional mask dance.

Uncoordinated body, offbeat rhythm.

The princess had a good memory and memorized all the moves, but her body just wouldn’t follow. She lay on the floor, looking up at me with her cheeks puffed out and her face scrunched up, as if telling me not to tease her.

I deliberately ignored her gaze and continued massaging her legs, deep in thought. I could empathize with the princess’s frustration at not being able to dance.

Back in my school days, I had been forced to learn group dances and had been heavily criticized for being out of rhythm. In group dances, where everyone had to move in sync, I was the only one out of time.

No matter how much I practiced, I couldn’t keep the beat, and the looks from my friends stung. Practicing seemed to be the only solution, but even with all my efforts, I couldn’t fix my sense of rhythm.

‘Maybe the method I used back then… could help the princess’s rhythm?’

If I used the technique I’d tried back then, maybe it wouldn’t fix her coordination, but it might help with her sense of rhythm. No, I had to make it work somehow.

A whole month had already flown by, and there wasn’t much time left until the party. I couldn’t allow the princess to display her wobbly, bone-less dance in front of others at her birthday party.

After finishing the massage on her legs, I stood up and extended my hand to the princess, signaling her to get up. She grabbed my hand reluctantly, her face showing her discontent, and got to her feet.

“Princess, do you know what rhythmic gymnastics is?”

“Rhythmic… what..?”

The princess tilted her head in confusion.

Either rhythmic gymnastics didn’t exist in this world, or she just didn’t know about it. In any case, the princess seemed unfamiliar with the concept of rhythmic gymnastics. Back in the day, I had managed to improve my rhythm somewhat with rhythmic gymnastics.

Even though I was uncoordinated, rhythmic gymnastics was something I could do as long as I kept the beat. It helped me internalize the sense of rhythm in my body, and eventually, I was able to perform group dances perfectly.

Even as an adult, I felt unbearably embarrassed doing rhythmic exercises…

But, to improve the princess’s sense of rhythm, starting with simple rhythmic movements was the only option.

“…First, just follow my movements.”

Recalling a very simple, short rhythmic exercise from an old TV commercial, I raised both hands above my waist in front of the princess. Then, I started moving forward and backward to the rhythm.

“Alright, clap your hands three times, wave your arms up and down~”

Following the lyrics, I clapped my hands three times and twirled my arms in front of my chest. The princess watched me intently and started copying my movements diligently.

“Tap your belly, stretch up high~”

I tapped my belly a few times with both hands, then raised them above my head and stretched up on my tiptoes. The princess began following my actions, earnestly engaging in the rhythmic exercises.

For some reason, a smile blossomed on the princess’s face as she practiced the rhythmic movements. Was she finding it fun to dance at her young age? I continued the movements as far as I could remember.

When we finally finished, I looked down at the princess, breathing a sigh of relief. Though they were simple, repetitive moves, she seemed to enjoy them, even repeating some of the moves from the routine with enthusiasm.

Watching her place her hands on her hips and wiggle her waist back and forth made me smile. I crouched down to meet her gaze.

“How was it? Isn’t this a bit easier?”

The princess nodded.

“We’ll start by matching the beat with simple moves like this. If we practice rhythmic exercises one at a time, you’ll be able to learn the waltz in no time.”

“Are there other kinds of rhythmic exercises?”

The princess grabbed my knee with excitement, her round eyes sparkling as she looked up at me. It was a reminder that, at only six years old, she was still very much a child.

Seeing her like this, she didn’t seem like a princess but just a normal child. I chuckled, gently patting her head, and she gave a shy smile as if my touch tickled her.

“Of course, there are more. Let’s practice them step by step.”

I stood up and resumed the princess’s dance practice. After teaching her rhythmic exercises for about a week, I planned to return to teaching her the waltz, hoping her sense of rhythm would improve somewhat by then.

“You’ve memorized the moves by now, right? I’ll sing the song, so try to keep to the beat.”

Clap-!

I clapped to get her attention and began leading her in another round of dance practice. Bracing myself, I held back my embarrassment and started singing the children’s rhythm exercise again.

“Clap your hands, clap-clap-clap~”

*

Aside from the dance lessons with the princess, I had many other tasks to attend to. I had to study the topic of ‘witches,’ as taught by Ainsel, and I also had to prepare lessons about the princess’s fairy.

And the thing I’d been most focused on over the past month was…

“I am here to see Her Majesty, the Queen.”

“Bainshaw.”

While walking down the palace corridor, I encountered Bainshaw carrying a load of something in his arms. I sighed as I looked at the “something” he was carrying.

“…Are you bringing ‘paint’ to His Majesty again today?”

“…This is all I can do for His Majesty.”

“Aren’t you indulging His Majesty’s whims a bit too much?”

Bainshaw gave a bitter smile at my words, as if he knew it himself.

Together, we headed to the same place. For the past month, I had visited this place daily, to the secluded room deep within the palace where the King had secluded himself.

Bainshaw, practiced in this routine, knocked twice on the door and set the paint down in front of it. Then he stepped back far enough so his footsteps couldn’t be heard from inside and checked on His Majesty’s well-being.

Creak—

The door opened ever so slightly, and a thin, bony arm reached out. Just as Bainshaw had mentioned—who would think of that as a man’s arm? Even my forearm seemed thicker than that.

The hand snatched the paint quickly and retreated back inside. Watching this, Bainshaw and I both sighed deeply in unison.

“Once again, we’re lucky that His Majesty is alive.”

“…His Majesty’s arms seem to grow thinner with each passing day. Honestly, he may not have much time left.”

“…”

Bainshaw turned his head and wiped away a tear. The King’s arm, as anyone could see, had wasted away to nearly nothing but bone.

Bainshaw was making sure he got meals, but since we couldn’t confirm whether he was actually eating inside, there was no way to know the true state of his health.

‘Ah, I wish I could just pull him out when his arm reaches out. Really.’

I had attempted it once.

I waited at the door when the King’s hand emerged to grab the paint, but somehow, he must have sensed my presence at the door. He never showed himself that day while I stood there.

I let out a small sigh, walked up to the firmly closed door, and knocked lightly. Ignoring the now-familiar silence, I began sharing what had happened each day.

How the princess had been doing recently.

What she had done today.

What was happening in the palace.

How the Queen Dowager was faring.

Each day, I came here and spoke to the King through the firmly closed door. Of course, I never once received a response.

No matter how devoid of affection he might have been as a father, surely there was some small trace of feeling, so I continued speaking to the King every day.

To prick that faint glimmer of conscience.

Because I believed that the King was still, at least, human.

Yet, despite all this, even when I mentioned that the Queen Dowager was growing old, the King remained silent.

Sometimes, I wondered if he could even be called human.

“…I’ll visit again tomorrow, Your Majesty.”

In the end, today as well, I had no choice but to turn away from this place. Letting out a heavy sigh of frustration, I shook my head, muttering curses under my breath as I walked away.

Ainsel, sensing my frustration, asked with concern.

– …Are you alright?

“It’s frustrating. My stomach feels like it’s burning. Every time I go there, my stomach aches.”

Every time I spoke to the King, it felt like my insides were charring black. The suffocating frustration and anger that welled up every day kept me busy soothing my burning heart.

Honestly, how has Bainshaw managed to keep this up for two years?

“…Really, the only reason I keep this up is because there’s still time. But if the King doesn’t come out of that room by next month…”

Crack—

The more I thought about it, the more infuriating it felt, and I gritted my teeth. I planned to give him until the very last minute, but if he didn’t come out by then, even I couldn’t predict how I’d react out of frustration.

With a sigh to calm my nerves, I headed to the room where the princess was practicing her dance. I took several deep breaths to reduce my irritation before opening the door.

When I opened the door to the room, I saw the princess tapping her belly in rhythm as she practiced her dance, and she looked up at me. Embarrassed, she pouted but continued her rhythmic movements.

She even sang the song I’d taught her.

“Clap your hands, clap-clap-clap, wave your arms up and down~”

Watching the princess energetically practicing her dance, my frustration melted away. Leaning my head against the wall, arms crossed, I smiled as I watched her.

Perhaps because of the simple rhythm, the princess quickly matched the beat, wiggling her hips.

Honestly, I didn’t want such an adorable princess to get hurt by that hermit King…

Inside, I prayed that the King would come out within the given time.

I didn’t want to show the princess a scene of yelling or fighting.