Suddenly weak, Fawn leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. She unhooked her locket and stared wistfully at the newlyweds beaming back at her. Had this darkness been present even at the time of this portrait? Their wedding day had been the happiest of her life, a fairytale come true. Dorian was Prince Charming and she, his princess bride. She would do anything to go back to that time, to un-know the ugliness that awaited the girl in the locket.
“Get up!” The old woman yanked Fawn up so quickly that she careened across the hallway towards the other wall. Just before she smacked her head on the stone, the old woman caught her by the back of her cloak. With a quick tug, she pulled it off, leaving Fawn standing in only her undergarments.
Fawn whipped around, folding her arms to cover herself. “What are you — ”
“Look at yourself,” the apothecary commanded. She placed a hand on the door and its antique bronze surface brightened to a polished, reflective silver.
Fawn hesitated. It had been so long since she saw herself fully; Dorian removed all of the mirrors from the castle a few weeks after the inaugural Unification Day.
“Look!”
Fawn glanced at the door out of the corner of her eye and blanched at her reflection. What little hair she had…
