Shadows in the Mirror

Chapter 3

 Shadows in the Mirror

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9:15 PM

Jane carried a basket of freshly folded clothes, her feet dragging as she left the washing house. The crisp night air bit at her skin, but it did little to soothe her exhaustion. Her body ached, her legs heavy, and she muttered under her breath as she trudged toward the palace.

"Another hellish day," she grumbled bitterly. "Who knew pretending to be human would be this hard? And why am I the one delivering clothes to that stuck-up royal fool?"

The grand staircase leading to Princess Ava's chambers seemed endless as Jane climbed, each step an uphill battle. By the time she reached the top, she stopped, clutching the basket tightly and catching her breath.

"Just go in, hand over the clothes, and get out," she whispered to herself. "Quick and painless. Stupid, but painless."

Taking a steadying breath, Jane pushed the heavy door open. The hinges groaned softly, the sound reverberating through the opulent room. Her eyes flicked across the elegant furnishings: silk curtains draped over the windows, a four-poster bed fit for a queen, and a grand mirror hung on the far wall.

But then, Jane froze.

Her blood turned ice-cold as her gaze landed on the mirror. Reflected in its polished surface was not Princess Ava, but an old woman. Her face was gaunt, her hair thin and gray, and her hollow eyes seemed to pierce straight into Jane's soul.

Jane's breath hitched, and she stumbled back into the hallway, nearly dropping the basket.

"A witch," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "No... no, that can't be. Maybe I'm just overtired. My eyes must be playing tricks on me."

But before she could collect herself, Ava's voice carried from within the room, sharp and venomous.

"Tomorrow night," Ava hissed, "when I'm crowned queen, I'll kill the king and his pathetic son. Then I'll take over Avalor, and every last human will be erased. Not one of them will survive."

Jane's heart stopped. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the gasp threatening to escape. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as the weight of Ava's words sank in. She's a witch—a real witch—and she's planning to kill everyone.

Swallowing her fear, Jane adjusted the basket and stepped into the room as though she had heard nothing. Her voice, though shaky in her own ears, came out steady.

"Princess Ava," she said, bowing slightly, "I've brought your clothes for tomorrow."

Ava turned gracefully, her appearance as flawless as ever. She was the picture of poise and elegance, her soft smile masking the venom Jane had just overheard.

"What are you doing here?" Ava asked coldly, rising from her chair with an air of annoyance.

Jane forced a polite smile, despite the panic swirling inside her. "My lady, I was sent to deliver your clothes for tomorrow's celebration. Your wedding to Prince Alric."

She stepped forward, placing the basket on a nearby table. Their hands brushed briefly, and Jane suppressed a shiver at how unnaturally cold Ava's skin felt.

"Thank you," Ava said curtly, dismissively turning away. But as she moved toward the mirror, she paused mid-step.

"Wait."

Jane froze, her grip tightening on the basket.

"What did you say your name was again?" Ava asked, turning her sharp gaze on her.

"Jane, my lady," she said quickly, her smile faltering slightly. "My name is Jane."

For a moment, Ava stared at her, studying her with narrowed eyes. Then, with a dismissive wave of her hand, she said, "You may go."

Jane didn't wait for a second command. She turned on her heel and hurried out of the room, her legs trembling beneath her as she forced herself not to run. Her heart pounded as she reached the end of the hallway, her mind racing with what she had just seen and heard.

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Cater sat alone at the gate's entrance, the flickering torchlight casting deep shadows across his face. His hands rested on his knees, fingers curled into fists as he stared down at them.

Inside, he felt it again—that dark, restless power that had been clawing at the edges of his mind ever since his fight with Zuko. It felt stronger now, more insistent, like a caged beast demanding release.

"Hey, Cater," a familiar voice called softly.

Cater looked up to see Jane approaching. Her pale face was etched with an unusual seriousness, her steps hesitant but deliberate.

"Jane?" he asked, frowning. "What are you doing here so late? You should be resting. Tomorrow's a big day."

Jane didn't answer right away. She lowered herself onto the bench beside him, hugging her arms tightly across her chest.

"Jane?" Cater pressed, his tone edged with impatience. "What's wrong?"

She turned to him, her expression grim. "Princess Ava is a witch," she said, her voice low but firm.

Cater blinked, caught completely off guard. "What?"

"I'm serious," Jane insisted, her voice rising slightly. "I went to her room to deliver her clothes, and I saw her reflection in the mirror. It wasn't her—it was an old woman. She's using magic to disguise herself. And I heard her talking about killing the king and Alric tomorrow night, after she's crowned queen."

Cater let out a short, humorless laugh. "Jane, I would've smelled her yesterday. If she were a witch, I'd know. There wasn't even a trace of dark magic. You're overtired. Go to bed."

The sound of Jane's palm striking his cheek echoed through the quiet night.

"Servants?" she spat, her voice trembling with rage. "You swore to protect the kingdom—to protect your precious prince. And now, when I tell you something that could save his life, you laugh in my face?" She stood, her hands shaking as she glared down at him. "You know what? I don't care if you believe me. At least I've never pretended to like the royal family."

She turned to leave, but Cater moved faster than humanly possible, stepping in front of her in an instant.

"Wait," he said, his voice softer now. "I'm sorry. It's just… it's hard to believe. Ava's a pain, sure, but a witch? How can we be certain?"

Jane crossed her arms, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. "I have an idea. Tomorrow, meet me at the market near the pig farm. Alric's taking her on a tour of the city. We'll follow her. If I'm wrong, fine. But if I'm right…"

She trailed off, letting the unspoken consequences hang in the air.

Cater hesitated, glancing down at his hands. Guilt gnawed at him. If Jane was right, ignoring her warning could cost the kingdom everything.

"Fine," he said finally, his voice heavy.

Jane gave him a curt nod, her expression unreadable. "Be there. Don't make me regret this."

Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Cater alone with his thoughts.

He stared down at his hands once more, his fists clenching tightly as the dark power within him stirred again. No matter how hard he tried to suppress it, it wouldn't stay buried.

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