Mirror, my mirror...

I hate it when she calls me like that! Once I used to like this job. Now I am mostly sick and tired of it. "Mirror, my mirror" day after day... Give us a break, for mercy! Such a human idiom to be so ungrateful.
People keep telling all sorts of tales about me, but my role in them is very depreciated. Hugely! Their stories fail to mention that I am the true force behind the plot. Snow-White, the Prince, the Seven Imps: mere pawns under my spell, servants to my appetite for distruction, my hatred. I handle them, I play them around, I manipulate them. And that's more than they deserve - filthy creatures, with their pride and pains and joys and excrements and all. None measures up to my perfection - my quality.
I loath each and every of them. Take the short ones, for instance: waking up at impossible hours, singing along idiotic tunes, scraping all day the rock for minerals, attending their petty affairs. I resent their dignity, their dilligence, their devotion. Living dwarfs - disgusting!
But what can one do? The cause of misunderstanding is etched on my face. It reads: "I KNOW THE TRUTH - I ALWAYS TELL THE FACTS". Everybody thinks that these are one and the same reinforced statement - not two. The subtle sincerity of my Maker escapes them.
I know the Truth: I am only a mirror. A magical one (view my beauty and price) - a mirror, nonetheless. Just that; no more. I have no share of light of my own - nothing to offer from within. I only provide a spectre of others, an image. A mirage. I am flat, empty and inert. An inanimate light-reflecting surface. Period.
I always tell the Facts: indeed - but facts are not the truth. Because truth is what humans make of facts, by way of their so-called "spirit"; their mind and heart. And no words or images can bound it. Facts are surface, truth is essense - and no lifeless implement, however elaborate, can "tell it".
That's my secret. I am the utter instrument of cosmic irony: I always know the truth but never reveal it - I only deliver the facts. Then again, people should know: unlike miracles, magic always comes with a dark twist.
The dark Queen keeps asking "who's the fairest of all?" Now if you want the truth, Lady, you are in for a surprise. The truth is this is none of your business. The truth is you want to do nobody any good - nor can. The truth is you are lost in words and dreams.
The truth is that, like everyone who pairs with me for long, the Queen is now as mine as I am hers: she turned into my alter-ego. We both fear to leave this peg. We both secretly wish for an end. She and me are one - never to be apart. That's why I love her. To her death.