Chapter 9
“You must keep what you reported to me today a secret.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
“Leave me.”
The chamberlain hurried out of the room, anxious that trouble might befall him. Left alone in the empty room, the queen looked at herself standing stiffly before the mirror.
She looked utterly pitiful.
Her only weapon was her unfading beauty. It was the very reason the king had chosen her. No matter how many jewels she wore, no matter how she adorned herself, something always felt empty. The source of that deepening emptiness was unknown, but as it grew, the king’s affection gradually withered as well.
She had noticed the king’s change of heart long ago. She tried to win him back before it was too late, but once feelings had begun to sour, there was no turning back. It was all useless.
Lately, rumors of discord between the king and queen had begun circulating among the lower servants.
In her anxiety, she sold all the kingdom’s renowned dancers and courtesans into slavery or exile, but it brought her no peace of mind.
Then, just at that moment, she heard that the king had gone to visit the abandoned princess.
“…This can’t be.”
The queen’s face twisted in panic. When she pushed aside a bookcase, an old wooden door appeared. That door led to a very secret basement. The queen hurried down the stone steps and stood before another mirror in the cellar.
“Why does he ignore me? Is it because I’m not beautiful?”
The queen muttered like someone deranged.
The dim candlelight flickered, illuminating her face. The once-smooth skin now looked wrinkled, and the carefully sculpted features seemed on the verge of collapsing. Her once-luxuriant hair felt as if it was coming out in handfuls every time she ran her fingers through it.
“I must be beautiful forever. I must be the most beautiful in the world.”
Driven by desperation, the queen looked around the room wildly and dragged a box out from the corner. The moment she opened the lid, a rush of bloody stench poured out.
The queen seized a piece of bloody flesh, no larger than her palm, and devoured it greedily. Once a month, eating the heart of a young goat was her secret for preserving her beauty.
But now, even that was no longer enough.
Lately, her anxiety had shortened the interval to once every fortnight, even once a week.
Even one heart was not enough. Panting and frantic, the queen stuffed more bloody flesh into her mouth. She coughed as if about to vomit but kept chewing without pause.
Only when the box was empty did she stop, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. The movement left a long, red smear across her pale face.
Staggering, the queen stood again before the mirror.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall…”
And, stroking the glass with her bloodstained hand, she asked desperately,
“Who is the fairest one of all?”
The mirror, which had always replied “It is you, Your Majesty,” was silent today.
“I asked who is the most beautiful!”
As the queen kept pressing, a white mist suddenly fogged the mirror.
……And then.
PRINA
Prina, the princess’s name, appeared clearly inscribed on the surface.
She did not want to believe it.
How could this be… After what she had done to that girl…!
“AAAAAHHHHHH!”
The queen screamed and hurled a candelabra at the mirror. With a crash, the mirror shattered into countless pieces.
Prina, Prina, Prina…
The most beautiful in the world is not you, but Prina.
It is Prina, not you.
So you, the ugly one, will be abandoned.
Even though the mirror was broken, it kept calling that dreadful name. As if to escape the name that buzzed in her ears, the queen scrambled up the stone steps and back to her room.
“This isn’t enough.”
Muttering like a madwoman, the queen went into the bathroom.
She obsessively washed the blood from her body, then put on her nightgown.
“I need Prina’s heart. If I eat it… then I’ll finally be perfect.”
Then, as if making a vow, she looked at her now rather tidy reflection in the mirror, turning this way and that.
Regaining her composure as if nothing had happened, the queen rang a silver bell. Soon after, a servant entered.
“Call for Sir Arthur.”
She could not simply stand by and do nothing.
In the queen’s world, there could only be one beautiful woman.
There could never be two.
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