That night, Vesper couldn't sleep. The victory at dinner felt good, but it also felt dangerous. She had used the magic. She had used the "Silver Sight."
Was she becoming like the Usurper?
She went out to the balcony for fresh air. The moon was full, reflecting off the castle moat below.
Kieran was there. He was polishing his sword, the same sword he had used to smash the mirror.
"You were amazing tonight," Kieran said without looking up.
"I was terrifying," Vesper corrected him. "I saw the look on your face, Kieran. You were scared of me."
Kieran stopped polishing. He put the sword down and turned to her. "I wasn't scared of you, Vesper. I was scared for you. I know how much you hate that magic. I know how much it hurts you to use it."
Vesper wrapped her arms around herself. "It's part of me now. I can't get rid of it. What if I turn into her? What if I start thinking that power is the only thing that matters?"
Kieran walked over to her. He didn't touch her; he just stood close enough that she could feel his warmth.
"The Reflection didn't have a conscience," Kieran said. "She didn't feel sick after she destroyed someone. You do. That's the difference."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out something small. It was a jagged piece of glass. A shard from the ballroom mirror.
"Why do you have that?" Vesper asked.
"To remind me," Kieran said. He held the shard up to the moonlight. "I loved the Reflection for a while. I did. She was easy to love. She was perfect. But she was like this glass—sharp and cold."
He tossed the shard over the balcony. They watched it fall, spinning in the moonlight until it splashed into the dark water of the moat and disappeared.
"I don't want perfect," Kieran said. He took Vesper's hand. His thumb rubbed over the small cuts that were still healing on her fingers. "I want the girl who shakes when she's scared but stands up anyway. I want the girl who gets food stuck in her teeth and laughs about it."
Vesper looked at him. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn't try to hide them.
"I'm a mess, Kieran," she whispered.
"I know," Kieran smiled. "It's my favorite thing about you."
He kissed her. It wasn't the staged, movie-star kiss the Reflection used to give. It was gentle. It was warm. And when Vesper leaned into it, she closed her eyes.
She didn't need to see his reflection to know he was there. She could feel him. And for the first time in a long time, the mirrors in the castle were just glass. Silent, empty glass.
Vesper broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his chest.
"Tomorrow," she said, "we have a kingdom to run."
"Tomorrow," Kieran agreed. "But tonight, let's just look at the moon."
And they did. They looked at the moon, not in the reflection of the water, but up in the sky, where it was real, distant, and beautifully imperfect.