Page 38
Story: Mountains Made of Glass
“There is a time for these things,” said the mirror. “Perhapsaftershe has softened toward you.”
“You must be forgetting the part where I need her to fall in love with me.”
“She will not fall in love with someone she does not know, and all you’ve managed to show her is how much of an ass you truly are.”
“I am not an ass!”
I glared at the mirror, and he glared back—or rather, itfeltlike a glare—and after a moment, I let out a breath and fell against the bed.
“Okay, fine. I’m an ass.”
I stared at my ceiling, which was covered in layers of fabric that draped around my bed like a heavy cloak in winter.
“Perhaps you could…take her on a picnic,” the mirror suggested. “You could…take her to a favorite place and…talk.”
A laugh tore from my throat. “That is a ridiculous idea. She will hardly speak to me at dinner. What makes you think she would follow me into the forest for achat?”
“It was only one suggestion,” said the mirror. “Maybe you could—”
“I’ll ask the prince again,” I said, interrupting him.
“You would give him another chance?”
I noted the surprise in his voice.
“Not without consequence,” I said. “I have five days left. No more. I cannot afford to waste time!”
“Of course not,” said the mirror. “You must be on your way. Hurry before it is too late.”
His voice dripped with contempt, and if he had not made me so angry, perhaps I would have inquired after his tone.
Instead, I started to leave.
“Do you even know where she is?” the mirror asked.
I paused at the door and looked over my shoulder. From this distance, I could see my reflection.
“Likely in her room,” I said. “She cannot walk.”
When he said nothing, I turned fully toward him.
“Why?”
“No reason,” he said airily. “But if I wished to woo a woman, my day would start and end with her.”
I ground my teeth.
“What do you know? You are just a mirror!” I slammed the door behind me, but as I made my way to the dungeon, my steps faltered, the mirror’s words worming their way into my brain.
Where is she?
Fucking mirror.
I abandoned my task for my creature’s room. When I arrived, I knocked and gave her no time to answer before I entered, too impatient to know if she was there.
She wasn’t.
The room was empty, the bed was made, and the sheer robe she’d worn the night before lay in a puddle at the foot of her bed. I crossed the room to pick it up. The thin material was almost as light as air, and when she’d stood from her bed dressed in only this, I had lost any hold I’d had on my anger and spent the entire evening and night attempting to quell my impossible arousal.
Table of Contents
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- Page 38 (Reading here)
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