Mirror, Mirror

2.09 Even Ladies

Don't get me wrong— I'm a good singer. I've had to be. I discovered my magic at such a young age—12—and as soon as people figured out what made me tick, that was what I had to do day in and day out. Vocal lessons, music theories, endless performances.

But I never wanted to be a singer! I wanted to be a writer. My writing wasn't magical, but it made me happy. It's magic in its own kind of way.

Sometimes I wake up crying knowing I'll never get to release any of the stories I had burning in my heart.

❖

Later on that night, long after Starla had changed out of her ballwear and into comfortwear, she stared out of her window brooding. Suddenly, she saw a flash of white at the corner of her eye.

It was Rayna, who was running into the night, nearly tripping over her dress. She left a path of swirling frost behind her.

"Is anyone going to go after her?" Starla asked her reflection in the little desk mirror. She waited to see if anyone followed. She rolled her eyes at her reflection. "Who could have predicted this."

She got up and checked the keyhole of her bedroom door. The guards were still there. If she wanted to follow Rayna, she would have to climb out her window. It wouldn't be the first time she'd done that.

Ice powers or no, it was stupid for Rayna to go out in the night in a dress and heels. She would freeze. For a moment, Starla allowed herself to imagine the timeline where the Ice Princess froze to death. Tragic.

But, she had to do the right thing. Plus, she was still in a reckless mood. So, she quickly changed into her outdoor clothes, shimmied out through her window, and followed Rayna into the night.

❖

It wasn't hard to follow Rayna, as she left a trail of peculiar, glittering frost behind her.

Starla found her squatting by a pond in the garden, rocking back and forth with her hands fisted in her hair. Her once pristine white gown surrounded her in a muddy, sopping mess, reminding Starla of a wilted flower. As she got closer, she could hear Rayna's ragged breathing and see the thin skin of ice spreading across the water's surface.

Suddenly, Rayna plunged her hands into the water, cracking the fragile layer of ice. She frantically rubbed freezing water in her face, and Starla felt a strange pang of sympathy.

"I do that too when I'm upset," Starla said, and Rayna scrambled away from the pond's edge with a start, face dripping. The two of them eyed each other in silence, Rayna in a defensive crouch, Starla on her feet. Then, Starla offered a white gloved hand. At first, Rayna blinked at it uncomprehendingly. Then, she wiped her hands on her gown and took it. Even through her glove, Starla felt a chill.

"It's a distress tolerance skill," Starla explained, helping Rayna clumsily get to her feet. "Changing your body temperature can help interrupt the fight-or-flight response. Or something." Rayna pulled away as soon as she was standing. Starla noticed she was barefoot, glass heels were nowhere to be seen. She must be freezing.

"Yeah," Rayna said, hugging her chest and looking away. "I was just, I just..."

"It's OK," Starla said gently, then added with a wry smile, "Even ladies get panic attacks. I would know." Rayna flinched, as if she'd been hit. Starla blinked, confused by the reaction.

"I'm not a lady," Rayna whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head.

"Oh right, my bad," Starla rolled her eyes. "You're a princess."

"No," Rayna said with uncharacteristic viciousness. Her eyes were still tightly closed, as if she couldn't bear to look at Starla. "I'm not a fucking woman." The air around them froze, and suddenly it hurt to breathe. "I'm a man."