“How would we bring her back?” Theo asks.
“No, we aren’t discussing this,” Hart snaps. “Any plan that involves Daphne dying is not a plan I will ever get behind or allow to happen.”
“I agree. It’s not a viable option.”
Gwyneth sighs. “You’re right. But we need a plan, because sitting around watching whatever that thing is makes me want to consider violence.”
We all turn toward the cracked mirror, and I speak the words we are all thinking, but never thought we’d voice. “We need the mirror man.”
Chapter
Four
The Land of Reflection has not changed during my incarceration—not that I’d been down there more than a few turns, but prison changes a person. I went in an innocent maiden, and now I’m emerging a hardened woman. Who knows what I am now capable of?
The judgy people that grace this land eye me with the same disdain much of The Hallows do. My manacle-free hands offer them a little wave and a smile. I’ve learned the best defense with folk who look down their noses at me is to appear unbothered, and that’s mostly true. These people don’t have any bearing on my life or future, so why should I give a Bunkum poop about what they think of me?
I think I spot a familiar face. Perhaps the mirror woman from our chambers in the Hallows? “What do they do when they aren’t busy declaring the fairest pecking order?” I ask Erik.
He seems less averse to my presence than our earlier encounter. Probably on account of his king confirming I wasn’t the one who hurt him. Lucky for me, they aren’t thebehead the maiden without a trialtype of nation.
Erik glances around the courtyard and everyone who catches his eye suddenly finds something else to be interested in. So they fear him?
“Not much, really. They are vain and judgmental beings for the most part. It’s an occupational hazard when attractiveness consumes your every waking tempo. You stop seeing people for who they are and instead focus on that which they show you. It’s dangerous to only look skin deep.”
“But not Eron,” I note. My mirror man is kind, comforting, and careful in his considered words, even when he’s not altogether there.
“No, not Eron,” Erik agrees. “But he’s special.” There’s a wistful glint in his eyes. Ahh, so my mirror man has a suitor of his own. I wonder if he knows? Maybe I can play matchmaker for these two males.
I step forward a little, then turn and walk backward so I can monitor Erik’s facial expressions. “You’re in love.” I don’t pose it as a question, because I can feel it in my bones.
Erik scowls at me before darting his gaze around the courtyard of curious folks. “I do not know what you speak of.”
My grin spreads wide. “Sure you don’t.”
Erik’s eyes widen, and his hand snaps out to grab me. I jerk back instinctively, and my back slams into something hard before I lose my footing and fall flat on my ass. An echoing smash makes my nerves jolt. Someone shrieks, and Erik grabs my wrist, yanking me up to my feet. I swallow and spin to face whatever disaster awaits me.
A pretty couple, both with ice-blonde hair and blue eyes, gawk at me while pointing to the ground where a large mirror lies, cracked into several pieces.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell them.Please, someone tell me that isn’t the equivalent of murdering their child.
The woman is the first of the pair to pull herself together. “You broke our new mirror,” she snaps.
“Watch your tone, Leanne,” Erik warns. “This is the king’s favored person.”
I’ve never been anyone’s favored before. It warms something inside my chest.
“Then she should know the consequences,” Leanne growls. Her male counterpart stands frozen with his mouth dropped open. “That mirror is the latest in Roberto’s line.”
Erik grimaces. “I’ll ensure it’s replaced.”
I lean over the broken pieces and give a little wave. “It still works,” I note as my reflection mimics me.
“Daphne, stop,” Erik grumbles.
Silence falls as the folks of the Land of Reflection give us their full attention, their right hands oddly lifted in the air. Maybe it’s a weird custom, or perhaps an insult? My hand, already in that position, gives them a little wave. Best not to commit a faux pas by not joining in.
They mirror my actions, making me grin. Wow, they are a friendly bunch, after all. I take it all back. However, now we are caught in a who stops waving first situation. What’s an acceptable length of wave that says,How are you doing, but don’t actually tell me?A tempo is a long time when all you are doing is waving. My hand aches. It’s like a stare off, but with a wave off, and I am determined to not break first.
