Hall of Mirrors

Chapter Nine- Mixed Love

Queen Lilith was shaking with rage as she faced Magoriam, the man she thought she trusted, the man she thought would carry out her evil deed.

Magoriam hung by his arms from two black-clad soldiers in Lilith's personal chambers. And Lilith was ready to destroy him.

"Please, please, no," cried Magoriam, struggling against his still-as-stone restraints as Lilith strode over to her vanity table.

With leather-gloved hands, she picked up the box that now held a pig's heart, not River's. Opening the gold clasp, she took out the intricately carved dagger that was now stained with blood.

Turning around, she fixed her cold, heartless eyes on Magoriam.

"You have failed me. You will pay."

And with a quick thrust, she drove the dagger straight into his chest.

Magoriam screamed and thrashed, but Lilith didn't release the dagger. She dug deeper into his heart, fingers tightening on the gilded hilt of the dagger. She didn't flinch.

Magoriam gave a shudder, and his eyes dropped to the back of his head. He was dead.

Lilith took out his heart.

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Blood spattered the floor of her personal chambers, but the Queen didn't bother to clean it up. She sat at her vanity, staring at the heart she had just extracted from her huntsman, now lying on a red velvet pillow.

Lilith knew she had to kill her adopted daughter, but she didn't know how. River was pretty much surrounded by an impenetrable wall of magic.

Lilith hated River and everything that had to do with her, because she was a living reminder of the love she had lost- the love she had wasted.

Her attention turned and focused on a Mirror- but not an ordinary one. This one was special, because instead of the soul of an Endraithian encased inside the reflection, this Mirror contained the soul of her lover.

Lilith had been just sixteen when she met her first love, and unfortunately, her last. His name was Carwyn, and he was everything Lilith had ever dreamed of. But there was only one problem. Lilith was a young noblewoman at the time, and Carwyn was of a much higher rank. He was, at the time, the Prince of Bellumsilva, betrothed to a pretty duchess of another country. Prince Carwyn's father was on his deathbed, and his coronation as King was imminent.

One pretty summer day, Lilith was walking along the crowded streets of her village when a regal carriage broke apart the bustling crowd. Inside was Carwyn and his father.

As it happened, an old enemy of King Kendrick had been plotting against him, and had an assassin planted along the path where the king and his son would be traveling on holiday. As the king and his son passed, the assassin hid behind a tree fairly close to Lilith and aligned a poisoned arrow with King Kendrick's head through the carriage window.

Rumor had it that the poison he used was not a deadly poison. Instead, it contained a curse that nothing, not even love, could break- at night, during the hours when the moon shone upon the rooftops, the infected would turn into a troll- helpless, ugly, and disgusting. But during the day, the person could be their normal self.

As Lilith walked, she caught Carwyn's eye in the crowd, for she was very beautiful, with raven hair and deep, dark eyes. Carwyn fell in love as soon as he saw her, for she carried herself confidently, yet he caught her kindly giving a loaf of bread to an old beggar woman. "She is the maiden who will be my wife," Carwyn thought, and was ready to exit the carriage and find her when the assassin loosed his arrow at Kendrick's head.