The heavy doors groaned shut behind her, and Sophie found herself in a room that could have belonged to a fairy tale. Gold-framed mirrors lined the walls, velvet curtains draped across tall windows, and a massive canopy bed stood at the center, its sheets the color of blood-red wine.
For a moment, Sophie just stood there, trying to breathe. Her heart still hadn't recovered from the way that man—King Alexander—had looked at her. His presence had been overwhelming, his voice filled with authority that left no room for argument. And now, somehow, she was in a place where soldiers bowed to her, calling her "Majesty."
"Okay, Sophie, think," she muttered, pacing in front of the bed. "You touched a mirror. You fell through—what? Time? Space? A wormhole? And now… now they think you're their queen."
She pressed her hands to her temples. This has to be a dream. Any minute now, I'll wake up back in my apartment, late for work.
The door creaked open, and Sophie jumped.
A young woman entered, her steps light but graceful. She had soft auburn hair tied back into a neat braid and eyes that glowed with quiet warmth. In her arms, she carried folded linens.
When her gaze met Sophie's, she smiled and dropped into a deep curtsy. "Your Majesty," she said softly.
Sophie groaned. "Not you too. Look, I don't know what's going on here, but I'm not—"
The girl looked up quickly and pressed a finger to her lips. "Please, my lady. Walls have ears in this place. If anyone were to hear you deny who you are…" Her voice lowered to a whisper. "They would call it treason. Against the King."
Sophie froze. Treason?
The girl set down the linens and stepped closer. "My name is Eira. I am your handmaiden—or, well, I was hers." She hesitated, then added, "I will serve you as well."
"Hers?" Sophie asked carefully.
"The Queen. Seraphina." Eira's eyes darkened with something like sadness. "She disappeared five years ago. Everyone thought she was dead. Until tonight, when you walked into the throne room looking exactly like her."
Sophie's knees weakened, and she sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Five years? A vanished queen? And she just happened to look exactly like her?
"That's impossible," Sophie whispered. "I don't even know this place. I've never even been here before tonight."
Eira's smile was faint but kind. "And yet… you are here. The King will not ignore that."
At the mention of Alexander, Sophie's chest tightened. He had looked at her with suspicion, but also with something else—something she couldn't name.
"He doesn't believe me," Sophie muttered. "He thinks I'm lying."
Eira hesitated before replying. "His Majesty has lived with betrayal for too long. He trusts very little, and loves even less. But he is not a fool. If you are not truly her, he will know."
Sophie swallowed. Great. Either I convince a king I'm not his missing queen, or I get executed for treason. What a perfect start to the week.
Before she could respond, the door swung open again, and cold air seemed to follow the man who stepped inside.
Alexander.
He didn't bother knocking. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, his cloak trailing like a shadow behind him. His piercing eyes scanned the room, landing on Sophie with an intensity that made her spine stiffen.
"Leave us," he ordered, his voice low but sharp.
Eira bowed quickly and slipped out, shutting the door behind her.
Now it was just Sophie and him.
Alexander moved closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate, like a predator circling prey. Sophie forced herself to hold his gaze, though every instinct screamed at her to look away.
"You speak strangely," he said at last, studying her. "Your words, your tone… not as they were before."
Sophie blinked. "Before? I told you, I'm not—"
"Do not say it again." His voice was icy, and she fell silent.
He stopped just a few feet away, his eyes scanning her face as if trying to peel back her skin and find the truth beneath. "If you are Seraphina, then your disappearance has cost me five years of blood and ruin. If you are not…" His gaze hardened, and the threat in his tone was unmistakable. "Then you are an enemy standing in her place."
Sophie's pulse raced. "I'm not your enemy," she said quickly. "I don't even know you!"
His lips twitched in something that wasn't quite a smile. "No. You do not know me. But you will."
Before she could ask what that meant, he turned sharply and strode back toward the door. At the threshold, he paused, his voice echoing softly through the chamber.
"You may fool the others with your wide eyes and trembling voice. But not me. I will uncover who you are, Sophie… or whoever you claim to be."
The door shut, leaving Sophie trembling on the bed.
For the first time in her life, she truly understood the meaning of being trapped.
And deep in her chest, though she hated to admit it, another feeling stirred. Not just fear.
But the dangerous pull of curiosity—for the ruthless king who might very well decide her fate.