As it approaches, Antony sweeps me into his arms and leaps upward, landing perfectly on his bird’s back, but somehow, he twists me mid-air, so I’m facing away from him.
With a hard shove, he forces me to bend at the hips, lying face-first against the bird’s feathers while he pins my arms behind me.
The wind rushes past me as the bird continues through the air, away from the temple, soaring through the darkness above the forest.
Only now that I’m facing downward am I aware that tears flow down my cheeks.
Angry tears.
Resentful tears.
I struggle against Antony’s hold, bucking against him, pulling away, and then pushing back, using whatever I can to upset his hold on me.
I catch his soft, “Fuck,” over the sound of the wind before he repositions his hold on my arms, keeping them pinned behind me, but now it feels as if he’s using only one hand to do it.
Damn him for being so strong.
In the next moment, he drops his body over mine, pressing down on me.
His steel-covered face is close to mine as he reaches out with his now-free right hand to tap the bird’s neck twice. I recognize the action he takes when he wants the eagle to dive.
The sudden drop forces me to stop struggling. My stomach lifts, and I squeeze my eyes closed until the eagle levels out, and then a soft thump tells me we’ve landed.
In a flash, I open my eyes, but Antony is already pulling me from the bird’s back, keeping hold of my wrists as he puts me back on my feet and propels me forward along the ground.
I face a small, glistening lake, surrounded by forest on its other side, while a cabin sits a hundred paces away on my left.
Antony continues to propel me forward, straight for the lake, and for a moment, I think he’s going to walk me right into it, but he stops at its edge, where he forces me to my knees.
Once again, he pushes me down, ramming me forward so I’m bending at the hips, facing the water while my arms are pinned at my back.
“Look at yourself.”
The edge of the lake is crisp and clear. Completely still. A near-mirror reflecting the starry sky. And my face.
I stop struggling.
A latent tear falls from my cheek and into the water, sending brief ripples outward, disrupting my reflection before the water settles again.
I am…
Not me.
If my hands were free, I would run them over my cheeks, my forehead, my chin, my lips.
This face reflected back at me is not mine.
It’s beautiful. It belongs to a highborn. In the starlight, I can’t tell exactly what color my eyes are, but they’re luminescent, shining, bright. My lips are curvier, my eyelashes fuller, and my hair…
Oh, my hair is thick and shiny, falling about my face, the tips skimming the water when I lean a little closer, sending ripples through my reflection again.
The water quickly stills while the strands remain immersed, drawing my focus from the reflection to the hair falling past my face. It’s lush and wavy. Not just an illusion on the surface of this lake.
But then, as I watch, the strands transform. A quick glance at my reflection tells me my features are morphing back into the face I know.
My hair is once again lank. My features are drawn and pale. Dull.
All I can manage is a gasp. “I don’t understand. How is this happening?”
