During the film’s opening credits, Miranda is seen waking up to the morning fog as her roommate Sara (Margaret Nelson) approaches and opens the window, glances and smiles tenderly at Miranda, letting their room inhale the misty air. This very scene quickly establishes Sara’s devotion to Miranda, opening the window the way she opened her heart to Miranda.
Shy and soft-spoken Sara is an orphan, at times lonely, often drifting to her own world, a kingdom so monolithic yet so secret. She rules her own kingdom until she let Miranda take over, “demoting” herself from queen to princess. Just like her name’s definition, gracious Miranda is admired — not just by Sara — by almost all of the characters in the film.
Also during the opening credits, Sara politely watches and waits until Miranda is through washing her Venus-like visage, almost like a princess-servant admiring her queen’s every detail. Then Sara hands Miranda a card in which she wrote An Ode to St. Valentine, a poem especially dedicated to Miranda. Sara would intentionally leave her Miranda poems in the ladies’ room, proclaiming her love for Miranda. Lovestruck by words, the other girls read Sara’s poem, which goes:
Now don’t give me that bullsh*t that Sara doesn’t love Miranda in a sapphic sense. Although it is evident that Miranda sees Sara as nothing more than a little sister or a friend, Sara is obviously in love with her queen. (But it’s the Victorian era, so I don’t know if they even gave a f*ck about labels like “straight” and “lesbian.”) Miranda noticed that Sara read more into it and is head-over-heels in love with her, that’s why she told the hopeless romantic Sara:
Sara would later perish, her corpse face down, her very last heartbeat yearning for Miranda…
A one-sided love story worth telling: Princess Sara will always love Queen Miranda.