“Not into what?” he asks.
“Not into whatever this is.” I end up raising my voice a bit, and I realize that I’malsospeaking in a British accent. Not just out loud, but in my inner voice, too. Sweet Jesus. Whatever head injury I sustained must have been catastrophic. I keep my neck straight just to be safe.
“I think I need a CT scan. Can you help me get out of here? And do you know where my cell phone is?”
“What’s a cell phone?”
I take a short, jagged breath. “Okay, I appreciate your commitment to the bit, but I need you to break character and tell me what the fuck is happening right now.” The man just stares at me with his mouth slightly open and I try to remain calm. “What’s your name? Or your character’s name. Whichever.”
He pauses before offering me a quick bow. “Lord Gainsford, at your service.” Then he adds, “But I prefer Simon. I met you when you first arrived at the palace.”
“Of course you did.” I kick my squared-toe shoe at my ninety-pound skirt. “Listen, Simon, I need to get back to my hotel and then probably go to a hospital. I’m being held against my will, and if you don’t let me go, you’re facilitating a crime.”
Simon furrows his brows and looks around before turning back to me, genuine concern softening his defined features. “Are you sure you are well, Lady Catherine? You don’t seem yourself.”
Anger creeps up my spine in a prickly burn. If I don’t get the truth soon, I am going to fight someone. “You know what? Never mind. I’ll figure it out on my own.” I walk off frustrated, growing even more frustrated when I sense Simon keeping pace behind me.
“It feels wrong to leave you in such a state,” he says, his words floating over my shoulder.
“I’m fine!” I bark back. “Seriously, please go.”
I walk faster, nearing the end of the hall when I pass an elaborate oval mirror fastened along the corridor. I catch my reflection out of the corner of my eye, and when I do, I stop walking. I also stop breathing. I retrace my steps and face the mirror fully. I stare and I stare, and it feels like the universe is closing in around me as I move close to the glass. My reflection isn’t me. The girl looking back at me is slightly younger than I am. She’s short and lithe, with a heart-shapedface and blue almond eyes. She’s the college version of Sabrina Carpenter and is so naturally beautiful that it’s almost upsetting.
I lean forward to get a better look. Simon stays at a fair distance behind me. His reflection is just as it should be.
“Why am I the only one who looks different in this mirror?” I ask quietly.
He says nothing, and I start to make little motions with my face. I raise my eyebrows. I scrunch my nose. Prettier-not-me matches every move.
I pull the veiled headband thing that I’m wearing off my head, running my fingers through the wavy hair that, according to the mirror, is sandy brown and at least a foot longer than mine. Dizziness surges again in my skull. My glorious Sadie Sink hair is my best feature. I’ve never dyed it. I never would. But I must have. I pull the unfamiliar locks between my fingers and look down, seeing and feeling them firsthand.
My hands aren’t the same either. These hands are small and delicate and in no way look like they’ve been kissed by the California sun for twenty-four years. Every memorable trace of me is gone—along with my sanity.
I can’t be another person. I’m having a psychotic episode induced by my fall. I suffered a traumatic brain injury. That would explain the hallucinations and my illogical English accent. But if that were the case, I doubt that I’d be aware of my psychosis. And Zoe would be here.
I slap myself in the face, and mirror-me does the same. “Wake up, Lily! Wake up right now.” Switching gears, I start pinching myself anywhere I can reach. My cheeks, my arms, my new hands. My skin is blotched and red when I move on to my chest.
“Forgive me for asking, but is there a reason why you’re tweaking your nipples?”
I glare at Simon, who is now standing beside me, looking like he’s trying not to laugh. “Dude, get out of here! You’re zero help whatsoever.”
He clears his throat as he averts his gaze. “My apologies. I’ll leave you.”
I feel a flash of guilt as I look back to the mirror, watching as he turns and walks off. I’m still watching a half second later when his reflection freezes mid-stride.
“His Majesty, the king!”
We both hear the echoing voice. Simon immediately moves to the outskirts of the corridor. I focus back on my reflection and touch my cheeks. My hallucinations are so real. So petrifyingly real.
“Did you not hear? The king comes.” I only just catch his tense words as Simon appears beside me again. The king comes? Comes where? On what? “Turn about and curtesy,” he says, grasping my wrist and pulling me back from the mirror. He’s so much bigger than me that it takes minimal effort on his part. I glance up and catch a flicker in his eyes – impatience tempered by the urge to protect. He stations me a few feet to his left as the double doors burst open at the end of the hall. My eyeline snaps to the sound, just in time to watch the ostentatious arrival of a wall of a man. An older, bearded wall of a man.
He walks with authority and a pained limp. The laces of his red and gold costume are wide across his chest, and his massive sleeves are trimmed with fur. He moves through the space like he owns it. Judging by the entourage of ten-plus people trailing behind him, maybe he does.
He’s close now, and I can’t tear my eyes away. This is the king? Or the person they cast to play the king? Personally, I would have gone in a different direction. The “king” is right in front of me now. He looks to be in his fifties or sixties. His eyes seem younger, maybe due to the boyish smile he’s casting down on me.
“Catherine, my darling.” His voice is friendly as he reaches for my hand and places a kiss to my knuckles. “I know I promised that we would go out riding this morning, but there is an urgent meeting of the privy council. I shall see you for dinner this evening in my chambers and will think of nothing but you until then.”
He gives my hand a tender stroke and walks off before I can register what the hell just happened. Looking down the hall after him, I inch closer to Simon.
