Page 48 of Blood of the Fairest

"Never mind, then," he shrugs, disappearing from the mirror.

Damn it. He knows how desperate I am, which means he can play hardball with me right now.

"Wait—Eris. Mirror, mirror, come back. Please?" I sigh.

He reemerges, his lips tugging up.

"Go on, Fairest."

"Watch that smirk, Beetlejuice," I grumble. "All right. I promise I'll…drink some blood. Animal blood, or something."

"No. Animal blood does not sate the queen's needs. It must be human, and you must feed enough every day. Come on, say all of it. You're plainly quite squeamish, but what good are you to anyone, especially yourself, if you fall deathly ill?" he pesters, motioning impatiently.

"Fine. I promise to drink h-human blood every day."

I manage to only do a small full-body shudder after getting those words out. At least Eris seems satisfied before his humor dies off completely.

"Good. Second…you must promise that before you leave this world, you'll help me try to search for a way out of the mirror realm. Some way to live in the physical world, permanently."

The request isn't surprising—but the sudden, sheer longing on his face is.

I don't know anything about Eris's past or how long he's been trapped in mirrors. Still, in a small way, I understand what it's like to watch the world pass by without being a part of it.

In my case, the isolation was self-imposed. It just felt easier to view the world from a safe distance, after everything that happened.

I can't imagine having no choice but to be stuck behind glass, observant but lonely.

I nod. "Of course, I'll try to help you. What about the third promise?"

Eris's attention moves to my beauty spot briefly before he adjusts a ruffle at one of his wrists.

"In about three weeks, I'll tell you the third promise I ask of you."

"So cryptic. Well, so long as you don't make me promise my firstborn child to you or something, we should be golden."

Eris is suddenly so flustered that he can barely get words out. "What? I—Crones, I would never make you promise to allow me to be the first to…impregnate you. What the hell is wrong with you?"

I'm confused for one second before bursting into laughter.

"Talk about misinterpreting. No, it's just a fairy tale cliché, like with Rumpelstiltskin. You know, the whole thing where a magical being asks for a child in repayment for something? It's in storybooks."

"The storybooks in your world are rife with sick sexual bargains?" he asks, scandalized.

"No, it doesn't mean—you know what? Forget I said anything. The important thing is, we have a deal. You'll teach me to read, and I'll help you figure out a way to leave the mirror for good. I'd shake your hand to seal the deal, but…"

Instead, I place my hand on the glass.

Again, Eris mirrors me with his bigger one so our fingers somewhat align.

He's staring hard at our hands, but that's when I spot a wooden chest in the corner of the lair near the door. It's somewhat ajar, overflowing with red-stained dresses much like the one I'm wearing right now.

I groan. "Gross. What the fuck is that about? Laundry?"

"Hmm?" After a second, Eris follows where I'm looking. "Oh. No, Reinhilde never bothered with laundry. But she was quite messy while feeding on the Favored, so she had simple, cheap dresses delivered weekly and either burned her used dresses or kept them here to use in spells."

That explains a lot about the queen's shitty wardrobe.

Removing my hand from the mirror, I take in the full scope of the lair once more before a thought strikes me.