The heavily jeweled dress dragged as she walked through the empty hallways, candle in her hand to light her way. The cold stone walls offered no comfort — no sense of warmth. The walls that she will call her home. The tiara felt heavier than usual on her head as she wandered the place, her heels clicking against hardwood floor. Princess Florence marveled at the smallest of details, her own small castle provided stone on the ground opposed to this castle — a much larger and far more wealthy castle that offered beech hardwood floors underneath her feet. Her head swiveled right to left as she observed the different doors lined against the wall.
All the doors were the same — mahogany with a gold doorknob — nothing extravagant at all. That's why when she spotted a white door with a crystal like doorknob she had stopped as if she was in a trance. What followed next was the reason she advanced towards the door like a genie enticing a snake from a basket. As she took a step towards the door, a blinding bright white light bathed from under the door before fading out with a soft buzz. Her small delicate hand rested on the doorknob, jiggling it once then twice. With a final jiggle, the door crept open with a soft click.
Stepping into the room and securely closing the door behind her, the woman observed the dark room — the only light coming from the flame dancing in her hand. "Mirrors..?" She murmured softly, confusion lacing her voice. Princess Florence moved about the room gracefully as inspected the mirrors, her eyes bouncing to the different sizes that filled the room before her. The woman heard the stories of her future father in law going into the kingdom and confiscating any and all mirrors — accusing the objects of witchcraft and any person who refuses to relinquish their mirrors were punished severely.
"A lot of fuss to make over mirrors." She says quietly to herself, her fingers dragged gently across the design of a standalone mirror. Finally moving her eyes away from the frame, she took in her own appearance. Florence couldn't recognize herself when she was adorned with all the jewels. She wore enough jewels to support 4 small families and still provide for herself. She was the Princess of Kitaran, a small kingdom in the Dark Continent — a name the Europeans came up with due to their lack of knowledge of it. She was marrying the prince of France — Prince Enzo.
The princess was just about to make her exit when a silver handheld mirror sitting on a dusty abandoned desk caught her eye. It was like no mirror she's ever seen before. It was oval with a two head silver snake slithering around the frame, its tail wrapping around the handle of the mirror. The woman couldn't stop herself from taking the silver mirror in her hand. It was heavy, the metal felt oddly warm — as if it was held over a fire for a few seconds.
Gently twirling the mirror over, she seen two letters carved in the back. Her fingers traced the letters as she hums quietly. "E.A.". Turning the mirror back, her fingers ran across the body of the snake slowly. "How odd..." she breathes out softly, her eyes analyzing the mirror as if she was attempting to burn it into her memory. Florence took a moment to gaze at herself within the mirror.
Understand that the young woman isn't obsessed with herself, it's just she's never seen herself so put together. Her hair was usually styled messily, her tight chestnut coils fell around her heart shaped face and fell mid back was pulled in tight neat bun with a tiara holding it securely in place. Her skin was sepia — a reddish-brown with orange undertones, dark freckles littered across her nose. She had full, sultry lips that naturally pouted when she wasn't smiling. A startled gasp fell from her lips when she gazed into her own eyes. Her dark chocolate brown eyes were glowing — resembling closer to the color of hazel.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Suddenly the mirror began to buzz in her hand, the doubled headed snake sprang to life — biting at her fingers. Yelping, the mirror slid from her hand and shattered at her feet. The snake began to advance towards her, uncoiling its body from the mirror frame as she stumbled backwards, and watching the snake flick its tongue dangerously. The snake remained silver, black scales covering the entirety of its body as its black tongue licked out in warning. As if her feet were rooted into her very place she stood, fear crept into her bones as the snake wrapped its body around her ankles and slithered its length of its body up her leg.
The snake disappeared under her dress, her hands trembled as she attempt to move but it was as if her arms were glue to the side of her body. A piercing pain shot through her thigh, radiating up the frame of her body as the snake sunk its teeth into her soft inner thigh. That's all it took for her to break out the physical trance she was in, reaching under her dress to yank the evil creature from her thigh — tossing its body aside.
Her feet couldn't carry her fast enough towards the exit, slamming the door behind her as she took in ragged breaths. Florence's fingers trembled as she hiked up her dress, assessing her wound. "Ow.." she murmured softly, prodding at the sensitive area around the bite mark. Once ensuring that the bite mark was not venomous, a sigh of relief passed through her full lips before allowing the dress to fall back towards the ground. She began her journey back down the hallway she was headed towards, her eyes taking one last look at the white door.
By the time she made it to her night chambers, she had decided not to inform her future husband of this incident — in pure fear that she would be accused of witchcraft and given the ultimate punishment — death. Her newly anointed maid and lady in waiting came bustling through the door in a straight organized line, their heads bent low out of respect. Silence lingered in the air as the maids worked to get her ready for bed, her body moving on autopilot as she sat down in the comfortable seat behind her.
The lead lady in waiting stood behind Princess Florence. She began to take down the young woman's hair, unaware of the turmoil the princess beneath her was experiencing. Meanwhile, Florence's mind was moving 100 miles per minute, flipping through different thoughts until it settled on the thought of her home village. The sole reason she agreed to marry Prince Enzo to start with.
Kitaran was a small village — a population of about 763 citizens resides within the palace walls. Due to their size, Kitaran dealt with slow to nearly no trades with any of the large kingdoms. Now, families have begun to starve and she could not stand to watch her people die out. So when a large kingdom offered their assistance in exchanged for her hand in marriage, she knew what she had to do. One nightfall, Prince Enzo and his father King Gabriel appeared at their castle with her father's invitation in hand. While Prince Enzo courted Princess Florence, their mothers weren't far behind cooing of an engagement. By the fifth nightfall, Princess Florence was officially engaged and heading to what she would be consider her new home.
But she would do it again if it meant saving her people.
"My lady, your bed is made up for night. We shall return early sunrise to aid you in preparation of your nuptials." The lead lady maid said as she bowed, the rest of the maids following her suit. Florence bowed her head in understanding, politely dismissing the maids. She watched as they filed out in a single line, her hand running over the fine silk of her night gown. Her fingers traced the flower design sowed on her ribs, inhaling deeply before she climbed into the feather soft bed willing sleep to creep over her.
Tomorrow was the day everything changed.