8. Verena
Verena
Ever had that feeling of waking up from a very intricate nightmare and being so glad none of it was real and it was all just the product of your stressed-out, sleepy little brain?
Waking up in Queen Rhinestone's bed is the exact opposite feeling. Whatever dreamless bliss I was just existing in before waking up in this world all over again, I want it back.
"Fuck me," I groan into the silky sheets as I roll over.
"Allow me to atone first, and I will do as you wish," a sexy voice replies.
For the second time in Queen Rhinestone's room, I scream and cover my tits.
I'm not naked this time. It's just instinctive.
Scrambling to the back of the bed that could have its own zip code, I yank the dark sheets all the way up to my neck and stare wide-eyed at…
The Huntsman.
As he towers nearby, it all comes back to me. Being taken, terrorized, and tortured. The drowning, the tears, the broken bones…
Strangely, my fingers feel perfectly fine now. The cut on my right hand is gone, too. I don't know why I woke up feeling so much better than I did yesterday, but—
Wait. Was he trying to be funny just now? He seems serious, but just seeing this guy again makes me break out in a cold sweat. My throat burns like I desperately need water.
"Get out," I try to demand, but it comes out all pathetic and breathy from fear.
I can't help it. Even if he's not trying to kill me right now, the Huntsman is officially the third most terrifying person I've ever met. Second is the faerie he dragged me to yesterday.
The first…is best left in the past.
The Huntsman's ice-blue eyes take in my obvious terror. Instead of turning and leaving, he promptly gets on his knees.
"For the cruelty I inflicted upon a precious and innocent woman such as you, I forfeit my life."
His life?
As terrified as I still am of him, a hint of irritation creeps through. I get that he's from this brutal fairy tale world full of beheadings and evil faeries and shit, but I'm not. I want nothing to do with this eye candy ever again, but that doesn't mean I want him dead.
"First of all, I'm not that innocent," I manage, still clinging to the sheets. "Second of all, I'm not going to kill you."
The Huntsman is unflinching. "Then a lifetime of devotion will be my penance. For how gravely I have wronged you, the only sufficient repayment is my life. Do with it as you wish. From this moment on, by Eldrunia's sacred tears, I pledge utter obedience to your every word."
I swear it gets colder in this room for a second, before that same strange, tingling sensation I felt when the faerie was looking into my soul passes over me.
I know how to put two and two together. That was magic.
"Gah, what the fuck? No," I protest, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at the extremely serious Viking-like man kneeling in this room. It misses. "Take it back. I don't want you to be my magically-indentured servant. I don't want anything to do with you!"
He pauses. "I cannot take it back. Any life debt sworn by Eldrunia's tears is permanent."
"Like hell it is. Get out." Angry now, I throw another pillow. This one has better aim but bounces harmlessly off one of his broad shoulders. "Go fuck yourself."
The Huntsman's handsome features take on an expression I don't understand, but he quickly stands and leaves the room through the double doors.
I feel relieved for all of two seconds before someone laughs nearby, startling me.
"Just so you know, he's off to do just that."
I realize the beautiful Adonis has returned to the magic mirror across from the bed. I blink at him. "What?"
"You told the Huntsman to go fuck himself. As he said, utter obedience to your every word. It's nearly impossible to ignore the compulsion of such a direct command for anyone who has taken that kind of magical pledge."
"Oh, come on. As if he actually went to go crank one out just because I…"
I trail off, recalling the odd expression that had crossed the Huntsman's face before he left. Like something between urgency and…embarrassment.
Suddenly, I can't picture anything except the uncomfortable Huntsman striding through Isenmere Castle's stone halls, searching for a private spot where he can reach into his trousers to pump and bite back his groans and—
I cover my quickly-heating face. "Please tell me this isn't happening."
The man in the mirror laughs at me again, enjoying this.
Sadist.
But since he's back, I slide out of bed, taking one of the silky sheets to wear like a robe on top of my rumpled dress. It's going to take a while to get over the fact that I was standing around naked and ogling my boobs in front of this guy yesterday.
First, I throw open the heavy curtains to let bright morning light flood the queen's chambers. Then I approach the magic mirror. My sleep-rumpled reflection is visible in it, but mostly, I'm just studying the man trapped inside.
Or…maybe not so trapped, considering his ability to pop up in the reflections of the puddles wherever the Huntsman took me yesterday.
"You tricked me last time we talked," I note.
"That can hardly be called a trick. After all, it did prove to me that you weren't the real Queen Reinhilde. She would never free me."
"And since I'm not Her Royal Bitchiness, you saved my life yesterday. Thank you."
Mirror Man's amusement dies away as he studies me back. As before, the prismatic effect of his eyes and hair is mesmerizing.
"You should ask yourself why."
"What?"
"Not what, why. I don't know what the world you came from is like, but in this one, it is always safer to assume that anyone who helps you has an ulterior motive."
So cynical, but I get it.
Curious, I place a hand against the glass. He just quirks a smile and mimics me. Now our hands mirror each other through the smooth, clear pane, though his is bigger.
"Not the altruistic type, huh?" I smile. "Fine, what do you want for saving me?"
"I never said I wanted anything from you. Only that you should ask yourself why," he shrugs.
"Sure thing, Magic Mike." A laugh breaks from me. "Wow. I was going for Magic Mirror meets Michael Jackson, but even though you're wildly sexy, that nickname doesn't suit you. What's your name?"
He looks away, toward the windows I opened. "Reinhilde only called me Mirror."
"Well, sure, but I could already tell her imagination was shit by looking in her closet.
" I study the ornate frame of the mirror, tipping my head as my curiosity runs wild.
"Have you always been in this mirror, or were you cursed?
Are you the ghost of a gorgeous, rich poet?
Something about your face and clothes just screams rich.
Did you once have a name, but you forgot it? How old are—"
"One more question, and I'll find some other mirror to call home," he complains.
"So you consider this specific mirror to be your home?" I ask one more with a cheeky grin.
Lo and behold, he does vanish.
"Hey. I was kidding. Mirror, mirror, come back. I want to bug you."
I'm absolutely expecting him to leave me hanging like he did the other day. But to my delight, that flawlessly beautiful face reappears in my mirror to give me a droll look.
"You'll have to think of something better than mirror, mirror, or I'll be forced to believe your imagination is just as shitty as the real queen's."
I feign insult. "Fine. Just for that, I'm nicknaming you Beetlejuice."
"Beetle juice? No."
"Hey, you wanted imagination. You can be summoned in mirrors, and he's summoned when you say his name three times. Close enough. Bada bing, bada boom."
"I didn't realize you were being literal when you said you wanted to bug me, but I won't be named after the juice of beetles."
I laugh. "Fine, then how about Adonis? It's based on a fucked-up Greek myth, but it basically means a really handsome guy."
The magic mirror man considers. "It's not awful. What are the other options?"
He's trying not to show it, but he's clearly enjoying this. I get the impression this guy hasn't gotten much social interaction outside of Queen Rhinestone for a long time, and it's safe to guess that she was a complete bitch to him.
Have I just made my first friend in this fairytale nightmare? Thank god. This world has been pretty rough so far, outside of Merrick's initial kindness.
"Other options," I muse as I wander to the wash basin on the vanity.
I'm so happy that it's been filled with clean water that I don't even care that it's ice cold when I splash my face.
"Let's see. Mirrors…mirrors…maybe something like the Mirror of Erised? We could call you Eris for short."
Drying my face and trying to ignore the perpetual thirsty burn in my throat, I turn back toward the mirror.
"Hmm. Eris," he repeats, his lips curving ever so slightly.
"Eris it is," I beam. "So. Eris. Back to our conversation from before, is there any chance you have an idea of how to get me back to my world?"
He leans against the inner frame of the mirror on his side of the glass, folding his arms.
"No. But I can search through other mirrors for clues of where to start, if you like."
"You'd do that for me?" I ask, touched.
"With an ulterior motive. Always assume that," he reminds me.
"Sure, sure. Then, exploiting that same ulterior motive, could I ask you for another favor?
There's someone I want to get a message to—Merrick, the former chamberlain of this castle?
" I hold up a hand taller than myself. "He's about yea high and looks kind of like Idris Elba and has excellent taste in clothes and—"
Eris holds up a hand to slow me down. "Is he human?"
"I think so."
I mean, I am stuck in a world full of fairy tales, so who fucking knows?
"Then I'll be of little help. Humans can neither see nor hear me in reflections."
"I see and hear you just fine, and I'm human," I point out.
"In your world, perhaps. You're in Queen Reinhilde's skin now, and she's far from human."
I open my mouth to ask what he means, but there's a loud knock on the double doors.
"Your Highness, don your veil at once," Schultz's voice calls.
"This bossy fucker again?" I huff.