masklike face slowly swam into view.
“Ingrid,” the mirror said, sounding strong again, “my master you will now be. I owe my life to you, and you, in turn, belong with me.”
Master? What had she done when she’d touched that mirror? “But my master has you in this room for a reason. I’m not sure I can set you free,” she said, hating that she suddenly sounded fearful. She was talking to a mirror. This was absurd.
“Do I appear broken? Does a river run after the rains return? Because of you I have awoken.” The voice was stronger still. “Put your hand on the glass. Your fate hangs in the balance. Let me show you the future, not the past.”
Once more, she touched the glass and the visions came to her, but this time she was in them. She saw herself in a lavish room, the likes of which she had never seen before. She sat in a chair high above all others, wearing a beautiful gown and jewels much finer than those the nobles who frequented the village wore. The images kept changing—her standing in front of a roomful of people, her commanding a group of guards, her speaking from an opulent balcony, but she was always there, and each time she appeared, she looked younger and more beautiful than she ever had in real life. The last image was the most powerful of all. Suddenly, a crown was being placed upon her head. She looked young, vibrant, and powerful. Ingrid let go of the mirror, gasping in surprise. “I could be queen?”
“This fact does not wane,” the mirror said. “You are meant to be queen, and long will you reign.”
It’s what she’d always wanted—power, attention, respect—and who had more of those attributes than a queen? King Georg was a young man, of courting age. He was not yet engaged to be married. Perhaps he was her future. Perhaps this was what the mirror was telling her . . . If it was accurate.
“Place your faith in me,” the mirror said. “Grant me your trust. This will be the path that is meant to be.”
Ingrid hesitated for a moment, then touched the mirror again. This time she felt a surge of pain, then numbness, but saw no vision. Something was wrong. She let go and looked down at the palm of her hand. A burn mark appeared on her weathered palm. Before she could even consider it, it began to fade away, taking the roughness and dirt she could never seem to be rid of completely with it. The wrinkles and weather-beaten skin smoothed away, replaced with a flawless complexion. The unsightly vein that usually throbbed in her hand disappeared. She cried out in surprise and relief. Her hand was beautiful. She looked at the mirror. She wanted her other hand to match.
“You need only ask,” the mirror said, reading her thoughts. “Working together, your dreams shall be an easy task.”
Queen. She could see it. Feel it. Just then, she heard the shop door open.
“I will get you out of here,” she promised. “I will come back for you later. I won’t let him destroy you.”
The mirror became quiet once more. To be sure it was truly safe, she moved it to a new location, hiding it behind a large painting against a different wall in the back room. When the master left for the evening, she would say she had tidying up to do and come back for it. She’d figure out where to keep it permanently later. The bell on the desk chimed, which meant whoever had arrived was a customer. Her master wouldn’t ring for her—he would yell. The bell chimed again. This was a customer, and an annoying customer at that.
Ingrid wiped her hands—one dirty with varnish, but the other glowing with the beauty that befitted a future queen—and walked out of the back room. “Can I help you—?” she started, before seeing who it was.
“Sister!” Katherine ran to her and hugged her fiercely. “You’ll never believe what happened!” She waved a cream-colored paper in front of Ingrid. “I received an invitation to the palace’s masquerade ball!”
“You?” Ingrid sputtered, grabbing the piece of parchment and reading it hungrily. “ ‘King Georg cordially invites you . . .’ ” she read. The king was inviting her plain sister? Her stomach dropped, along with her hope. The mirror had said she would be queen. Not Katherine. “How did you get this?” Her beautiful hand was shaking.
Katherine didn’t seem