“Mirror Mirror, show me what my future will bring.”

When the Princess looked into the mirror, she saw her eyes wet with tears, though her eyes were dry.

That day, the Princess was told that she’d be marrying the Duke, She cried. The Duke was known for his cruelty. He was the same age as her father, with rotting teeth and a foul stench, but he was wealthy and respected, so the match was made.

“Mirror, Mirror, show me what my future will bring.”

When the Princess looked in the mirror the day after the betrothal, her reflection was bruised on the left cheek, with small cuts surrounding the bruise.

She wore a pink gown when she greeted the Duke. The Duke grew enraged that she’d worn that gown instead of the indigo one he’d picked out for her, and struck her swiftly, his golden rings leaving an impression in her left cheek.

A week passed.

“Mirror, Mirror, show me what my future will bring.”

Her throat was red, with marks shaped like fingerprints wrapping around it.

Later that day, her father argued with the Duke that he’d given him too little as a dowry, and the Princess, sensing a potential out, had nodded in agreement. The Duke took note of her father’s complaints with a smile. When her father left, the Duke wrapped his hands around the Princess’s throat in a fit of rage.

“You’ll be mine,” he’d hissed in her ear, his fingers growing tighter as she gasped for air. “And you’ll learn not to go against me. You won’t do it again, yes?”

The Princess nodded, desperate for air, and the Duke let her go, throwing her to the floor. When she touched her throat, she winced at the blooming pain under her fingertips.

The next week passed, as the Princess’s father and the Duke negotiated her dowry, and her father’s eyes sparkled with delight as the Duke gave him his weight in gold, and the Duke planted a rancid kiss on the Princess’s cheek.

They had a feast to celebrate the upcoming nuptials, the date set to the end of the month. The Duke grabbed the Princess’s arm after the feast, his nails digging into her silk gown, as he drew her closer. She could smell wine on his breath, and felt his grip tightening around her.

“Where are you going?” the Duke asked, as the Princess squirmed. “Don’t you want to know what I expect of you on our wedding night? I want to show you.”

The Princess ripped her arm from him and fled, her gown sleeve ripping in the Duke’s hands as she ran to her chambers. She sobbed as she heard the shouts of the Duke draw near.

“I told you not to ever defy me!” he roared.

“Mirror, mirror,” she whimpered desperately. “Show me what my future will bring.”

As she looked into the mirror, she saw that she had no reflection at all.