Our neighbors have not always been our friends here in Aramoth, but a tense truce has been held between our kingdoms and families for more than a decade now. Last spring we met, at a gathering meant to celebrate the coming of a new prince to the north. The empty hollow in my chest darkens as I lose sight of his outline, hands pulling at my arms, worried voices chiming in my ears as I slip backwards, sending a message through the darkness with my eyes. Surfaces that gleam crimson in the sunset or the light of dawn, reflecting and refracting.īeautiful. Now it’s my prison, despite the way its grand columns sparkle in the sunlight, flecks of gold mixed incomprehensibly with the stone. My golden castle, built for my mother on the site of an ancient war garrison, a wedding gift from my father for his beloved, who died giving birth to me. To come further into the candlelight, so the curse befallen me will be without its prize for one more day. Fussing and tugging at me to come away from the darkness of the window, lest I freeze. Soon, my handmaids will scurry around me. Here, day and night, the candles and torches burn, keeping me in the light lest I freeze to death.Īlready my fingertips are cold as the sun retreats into the horizon. I see his shadow, ever moving along the line of trees as I’ve watched for a season already, while I stand brightly lit in my golden castle. Important Reasons for Having Mirrors in Elevators
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