Mirror: chapter three

Chapter 3

I walk to the window, my face a cringe of sadness. Rain pours outside and I can’t help but wish I could go dance in it. But no, I am an adult. I am a grown woman. I need to stay calm, feel the wind, and go inside. That’s what my old chamber maid told me before she died. 

You are surrounded by so much death, and yet you are alive. Have joy. The voice says, and I bite back a scream as always. I sigh and walk away from the window, but I look back at the last moment. Thunder claps for me, laughing at my pain, but I don’t care. I don’t care very much. But you care a little. 

“Begone.” I whisper to the voice. “Just leave.” 

You don’t want that. 

“I think I do.” 

If I left, you would be nothing. 

“No, I am a living, breathing, woman who is scared, and someone is living in her head. And she relives her pain every night, and she wishes that the voice was gone, that the dreams were gone. And they aren’t. And the voice that invades her thoughts and dreams and fears has the nerve to tell her that she is not a real person.” My anger boils over, hot bubbles rushing everywhere on my vision. 

You’re wrong. 

“You leave, please.” I’ve said those words so many times. It does nothing. It never did, except sometimes is makes the voice stop. But not normally. I keep my scream back, not wanting to do anything. But I know a long piece of parchment with todays activities is waiting for me in my room, rolled up with a red ribbon around it. Maybe a surprise visit from my father, but I don’t want it. I don’t want the life of someone who lives in fear of her father, because it’s too much. Because I want to love him, but I can’t tell him everything that I want to. I can’t tell him that magic is real, that I have seen magic. That magic lives inside of me. That magic is me. I realize I’m not moving, and that I am crying. I just want to run into my rood and stay  there forever, but I don’t. 

I go to my room, avoiding the mirror. I put my hair up securely, change into a more regal dress, with a hoop skirt, ivory silk, and platinum furnishings and grey leather gloves. I put on shoes and apply rouge to my cheeks and charcoal to my eyelashes. Then, after locking a thin glass hairbrush in the closet, I walk out of the room, and down the hall. I am focusing on walking, and I feel someone bump against me, and then I hear a noise against the wall. I turn and see Samuel on the ground, cringing, tears spilling out of the corner of his eye, a trickle of blood coming onto the wall. I gasp.

“I am so sorry.” I whisper. “Are you okay, Samuel.: My voice becomes rough, but I don’t care. I hurt someone, and if I’m not careful, I’ll hurt them even more. He smile a little through the pain and I laugh in relief

“I am fine, princess.” He corrects himself quickly. “Er, Crystal.” I laugh again, a genuine laugh. 

“I’m glad. I’m so glad. I’m so, so sorry.” I babble. He shakes his head.

“It’s fine, Cryst-” I cut him off, putting my hand out to help him up. 

“No, it’s my fault. I was barraging through the halls, not paying attention.” He nods. 

“Fair enough.” He takes my hand and stands. “Though I would get executed for doing the same to you.” I laugh again, letting got of his hand and adjusting my glove awkwardly. 

“True, but people of royal blood do things wrong, too.” Samuel nods. “I of all people should know.” Samuel kisses my hand, and I hand him my handkerchief. He looks at me, confused. Then I remember that in the lower village, that’s a sign of courtship.

“For…Your head.” I whisper. He nods, taking it from my hand. 

“Thank you.” He presses it to the bloody patch, walking briskly down then hall. 

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The paper in my hand shakes as I go into the council room. It's high ceilings and tall ornate wood chairs are full of pomp and I try. Ot to spill my ink. My father has asked me to sit in on the council meeting. I agreed heartily, but I of course was lying. My head hurts as I pick up a quill, focusing on it, trying to slow my heart beat and making sure not to turn it to glass. I take in the three councilmen, my father the King in his throne at the end of the table, which is far too long for it's purpose. 

“Princess.” The first member of the council, Councilman Johansson, nods to me. I smile and try to ignore the dread in my heart. 

Breathe in and out all you want, but eventually you will have to give in. I am you.

No. You're not! I want to scream, but I don't.

 “Let us begin.” My father says. I nod and dip the pen into a bottle of blue ink. 

“The forest is full of bears, and they've begun to come into the town just outside the castle grounds. It'd this continues, they could come here, and that could be a problem.” Councilman Johansson says. I write down what he says in Latin, not our own language, Tathern, because not so many read it, so if the documents were ever to be found we would be safe. I frown.

“Is not it already a problem?” I ask, my voice loud and clear before anyone else can speak. “The villages are being invaded by bears. Why did we not take care of this when it was first a problem for our great city?” I am surprised at my boldness, and I close my mouth quickly. The thought had barely crossed into my mind before I spoke. I can not help but wonder if it was really me who said that, or the voice did. 

My father sighs and puts his face in his hands.everyone glances around, as if I just made a terrible mistake. I remember hearing vague rumors about making the King mad during a council meeting, and I take a deep breath as he opens his mouth to lecture me. 

“Princess Crystal, it is not your place to-” He begins, But councilman Baudry speaks up. 

“She has a point.” He says, rubbing his heart in apology for interrupting his king. “I do not like to be wrong, and I am so often, but I admit it when I am. The villages should fake as much priority as the nobles.” I had always looked up to Councilman Baudry, but now I smile wide as everyone else nods. 

“I suppose that is correct.” Councilman Johansson admits. I try not to grin and continue to write. The third councilman, Jaques, speaks up.

“The sentiments of this are very nice, but what are we going to do about it?” Everyone turns to the King. He looks off into the distance, his face set in a thoughtful frown. I dare to raise my voice again. 

“What if we moved the wall guards to the outlying villages, and move the kings guards closer to the outside of the building?” Councilman Jaques nods.

“That would be a good idea. But who would protect the king?” I think for a moment. 

Does he really need twenty people watching him at all times? The voice asks.

“We’ll have only two guards to watch him.” I say boldly. “The most agile and the most experienced.” Everyone nods.

“Who would that be?” My father asks skeptically. I smile.

“I know just the two for the job.”

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“Samuel?” I say, my happiness exploding when he smiles and turns around, walking towards me.

“Princess.” A maid I pass says, and I nod my head to her.

“Hello.” Samuel moves towards me too, and I take a deep breath.

“I have some blessed news, and the council said I could give it to you.” He nods, his brow creased in thought. 

“Alright, thank you.” I smile and let the words slip past my lips, unable to speak slowly. 

“you are being promoted to king’s guard along with MacArthur.” The two have worked together since Samuel became a guard, and MacArthur has been working under the King for a decade. Samuel looks at me, struck numb.

“You are serious?” I nod, my smile growing.

“As I ever am.” He laughs, and I do to, overjoyed to see him as such. Vulnerable, joyful, and better off.

“Who do I have to thank for this?” He asks, and my smile fades into nervousness. 

“Who suggested the promotion?” I ask, my face sweating a little. Samuel nods.

Stupid girl. Calm yourself. 

“I did.” I say. “At the council meeting today.” He laughs, his eyes lighting up.

“I can never thank you enough!” He takes my gloved hand and kisses it. I smile.

“I am just trying to be who I want to rule as one day.” I say. Samuel shakes his head.

“You are going to be amazing at that, by the way.” I shake my head.

“If only you knew what had to be done before I would be fit to rule.” The words come out as if they were bottled up inside for a long time, and I did not know it.

“No. You are perfect.” I feel a tear slip out of the corner of my eye, and Samuel leans in and kisses me on cheek. I touch it gently. 

“Thank you.” I whisper. “That means a lot that someone thinks that.” I take a deep breath, blink four times, and curtsy.

“Well, Samuel, if you are the king’s guard now, I guess I'll see you a lot now.” I smile once more and turn away, my cheek tingling and my heart beating in quick, short beats. “Don't.” I whisper, not of my own accord. It's the voice speaking. “Don't you fall in love.” I gasp. “Don't control me.” I whisper back fiercely. 

Im not controlling you. I'm controlling my own body, which you inhabit. And one day, that will not be the case.