Mirrors ✔️

Chapter 26: Masked

Valarie

They are to execute Myra this morning, just a day after we were captured again.

It's public, which means I am to attend, looking "presentable". More servants like Renee wrestle me into a silk gown and do up my hair. I am washed and forced into flat silver shoes that make my feet ache. I had not been let out of my tower room the entirety of my stay- which I just now realize has been two years- and now, after everything, I am being freed?

Apparently, the King has woken up, and he wished for me to watch. Be a part of the family again.

We all know he is lying.

But there is nothing I can do about it, so I bid my time. I don't hurt the servants, though Eva begs me to. They work with him, she hisses, angry with my decision. And don't you want revenge?

Yes, I do. But I will be more careful than Eva, caught up in a blind rage. Or maybe she is me, and I am just now breaking free of her.

Eva laughs inside my head, voice heavy with derision. Keep telling yourself that, Val. We both know that I will always be here. For you. I am the only one you can rely on, remember? Cold mockery. Together, we will be unstoppable.

Her promises mean nothing.

Don't lie to me, Flower Princess.

She's particularly outspoken today, maybe because this feels so much like the time when she was murdered. The same blind, numb preparation. The same non-trial.

I tell myself I do not realize that. Promise it, in fact.

Eva's words ring inside my head.

We will be unstoppable.

So she says. And I find that I believe her.

We are one, her and I. We keep no secrets from one another.

And maybe that will be our undoing.

"Princess." One woman's voice interrupts my silent conversation. "Princess, we are to go now."

I fix her with a cold, haughty stare. "Do not use my title if it means nothing to you. We both know your alliance is not with me." I smile. "It's with you, with her, with him. All a game, isn't it? A game of cat and mouse." I brush my hand over her curls, and she flinches. I laugh. "See?"

"Princess." The woman emphasizes the word. "Are you ready?"

"No." I skip slightly, the red fabric of the dress twirling around my ankles. "I am never ready."

Yes, for them, I will put on a show. I will be the sweet princess, the crazy princess, the innocent princess.

Until I'm not anymore.

Someone holds open the door, and I step out into the hallway.

I am free. I am caged.

Does it matter any longer?