📍 Chapter 85 – The Mirror Girl
Zara was warned at dawn.
By a whisper.
A note slipped into her shoe, written in ash.
> "She didn't come alone.
> The children are already inside.
>
> Count your guards.
> One of them wears your face."
---
She locked Kaelen in the west vault.
Not with chains.
With blood wards.
Spelled by Auren, sealed with her own cut palm.
"No one in. No one out. Until I say."
Leva nodded, stationed herself outside with two archers.
Then Zara turned to Zaire.
"Search everyone. From kitchen to council. Strip ranks if you must."
Zaire's jaw clenched.
"It's already begun, isn't it?"
Zara didn't answer.
She just whispered,
> "She sent the Mirror Girl."
---
Years ago, before the war, Zara and Selene had visited an orphanage in the Hollow.
Among the children was a girl with sharp eyes, scarred hands, and a voice that mimicked anything she heard.
She'd stared at Zara for hours.
Watched how she moved. Sat. Spoke.
And then—she copied her.
Perfectly.
Selene had called her *Lira*.
Zara had called her *eerie*.
Now?
She was the enemy.
---
The castle was searched.
Servants cried.
Noblemen protested.
One of the kitchen girls was found with poisoned salt in her apron.
She bit off her own tongue before she could speak.
The west hallway caught fire during inspection.
Coincidence?
Or signal?
Zara moved with a blade in her boot, and grief in her throat.
---
Then it happened.
At dusk.
She heard Kaelen laugh.
Not cry.
Laugh.
From behind her.
But he was locked away.
She turned…
And saw herself.
Sixteen years old.
Hair in a braid. Same gold ring. Same tilt of the chin.
Holding a baby doll.
Smiling.
Mocking.
---
"Do you like my voice?" the girl asked.
It was Zara's voice. But softer. Younger. Uncertain.
The girl tilted her head.
"Do you remember teaching me how to hold a knife?"
Zara stepped forward, blade out.
"You're not her."
The girl curtsied.
"No. I'm what's left."
---
Leva and Zaire surrounded the girl.
But she moved like mist.
Spinning. Dodging. Vanishing behind a pillar, reappearing near the staircase.
"I'm not here to kill," she said sweetly.
"I'm here to *play*."
Zara stared her down.
"I'm not playing."
The girl frowned.
"That's what she said you'd say."
---
Then three more figures appeared.
One in red.
One in white.
One in shadows.
Selene's children.
Each trained to be a part of Zara's past.
Each built to haunt her future.
---
The one in red held a music box.
It began to play.
Zara's lullaby.
The one her mother sang.
Kaelen's lullaby.
The tune echoed through the halls.
The guards froze.
Tears in some of their eyes.
Zaire gritted his teeth.
"Magic in melody," he growled. "Get it out of your ears."
But it was too late.
Two guards slumped to the floor.
---
Zara rushed forward, blade flashing.
The girl in her image met her halfway.
Steel met steel.
Flesh met rage.
And then—
A whistle.
From the girl's lips.
And all four disappeared in smoke.
---
Zara coughed, eyes stinging.
Auren rushed in.
"They breached the outer vault wall," he gasped. "Tried to burn through the south ward. They failed, but—"
Zara interrupted.
"They'll try again."
He nodded.
"But they left something."
He handed her a folded note, scented with red jasmine.
Selene's flower.
> "You can lock him away.
>
> But one day… he'll open the door himself.
>
> Every child searches for their mother."
---
Zara burned the note.
Then called her council.
"We're not safe. Not even inside our walls."
Zaire asked, "What now?"
She looked at Kaelen's crib, hidden behind six locked doors and four sleeping spells.
And whispered,
> "We go hunting.
>
> No more waiting.
>
> I want Selene's head. And her children in chains."
---
Three days later…
Zara rode out.
Dressed in black.
Crown left behind.
Kaelen in Leva's care.
Zaire at her side.
Auren with blades stitched into his coat.
They rode toward the Hollow.
Toward the old school Selene once used as a base.
No parley.
No talk.
Just war.
And at its center:
A woman who once braided Zara's hair…
Now sending assassins who wore her face.
---
From the edge of the map, Selene watched it all through a crystal shard.
She smiled, sipping honeyed wine.
"Come, little lion," she whispered.
"Let's see if you still remember how to bleed."