4 - The Man in the Mirror

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 4 – The Man in the Mirror

            “Darling, you look absolutely beautiful.”

                “I know.”

                “Prince Edward will love it.”

                “I know. But, Papa, I barely met him. I don’t want to marry   him-”

The door slammed behind me. My shoulders sagged and I grimaced like it was my last day of freedom. And it was. It was exactly one week before the big royal wedding – my big royal wedding. I should be happy. But I never had much of a choice – betrothed since one was a babe, not a very uncommon thing. I should be happy. But that Edward prince was too full of himself, immensely rude, and he had this nose that was far too big for his face. Don’t get me started on his teeth. He had an everlasting snicker plastered on his face-

The room wasn’t empty. “What are you people still doing here?”

                The servant girls curtsied and scurried out of the room. Pesky servants. Brainless creatures. I rolled my eyes, gathered my skirt, and walked towards the other end of the room where the mirror was.

                My blindingly white wedding dress was beautiful. I had demanded a new one even after Father “suggested” me to wear Mother’s, and her mother’s before her. The dress had yellowed by age. A princess could never wear such an…antique to her wedding.

                No, I did not approve of the marriage. But why deny the inevitable? I had better make the most out of it, buying precious gem stones and diamonds in the name of the matrimony. Did Father ever ask me what I wanted? Of course not. He was too busy flaunting his wealth and fancying other women ever since Mother died. Actually, even before then. Way before then. I had one week before my life wouldn’t be my own, not that it ever was. If there was a way – any way – to cancel the wedding, I would do it.

                I stared at my reflection – quite blurry in the mirror. I grimaced; those cleaners were paid to do one thing and one thing only: to clean. And even that they did not do well. Or was it my eyesight failing – improbable.

                What a horrid mirror! It made me look like a man. And it made my dress look darker. I demanded a new mirror.

                I looked around to voice my instruction to find that no one was around. Where were servants when you need them? This was frustrating.

                “What in the world…”

                I froze. It was a man’s voice.

                “Who are you?”

                It was a man’s voice!

                I searched the room and stopped at the mirror.

                There, a- a- a ghost! A ghost!

                I screamed.

                The man screamed.

                I clasped my hands on my mouth.

                The man screamed.

                I screamed.

                “Ghost!”

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