Chapter 2: Eira

I stumbled backward, my vision swimming as I nearly lost my footing. The mirror in front of my, its surface smooth and untarnished, yet it held an undeniable presence a reflection that wasn’t my own. I steadied myself, taking slow, deliberate breaths, and forcing my trembling legs to move. Step by step, I approached the mirror, my crystalline blue eyes locked on the faint imprint of the girl I had seen. My fingertips graze the cold glass, sending a sharp chill up my arm. Instinctively, I withdrew my hand, clutching my chest as warmth surged through my veins a foreign, fiery sensation I couldn’t explain.

My breathing grew uneven, my pulse quickening. “It’s just the training,” I muttered, trying to reassure myself. But even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it wasn’t true. The heat, the vision was more than exhaustion. It lingered, was vivid and alive, like the fire of the girl’s image had taken root inside me. I shook my head and turned away, desperate to escape the weight of what I had seen.

The hallway was quiet as Eira stepped through the door. My family had gone out for dinner, leaving me behind as they always did. I had grown used to their absence, but tonight, the silence felt heavier. “Ms. Eira, why are you out of your room?” Nanny Samantha’s voice broke the stillness, drawing my attention to the figure swathed in an impossibly puffy dress. It was as though the fabric might swallow her whole. I chuckled softly despite myself. “Oh, Nanny, why do you wear that when we’re alone?” I teased her.

Nanny Samantha rolled her eyes but smiled. “You know the rules, Ms. Eira. I must always stay in uniform. Besides, it always gives you a good laugh.”

Eira reached out and grasped Nanny’s hand. “Nanny, I saw... someone. A girl in the mirror.” My voice was a whisper, tinged with hesitation. “She had red hair, and her skin there were marks, like feathers. I felt heat rise in my chest at the mention of the girl, like something terrible had happened to her. I looked up at nanny with concern. Do you know of such a girl in the kingdom?”

Nanny Samantha furrowed her brows, her expression flickering between confusion and concern. “Oh, Ms. Eira, I think you’ve been working too hard. Imagining things now, are we?” She said lightly brushing me off, but I could sense the tension behind her words.

“Nanny, it wasn’t imagination. It was real. I felt her heat—inside I, as if I—”

“Enough!” Nanny Samantha cut me off sharply. “Ms. Eira, this is nonsense. Don’t upset your parents with such things, do you hear me? You know how fragile they think you are.”

I lowered my head and whispered, “Yes, Nanny.” My voice trembled with the effort to push my doubts and tears away.

“Now come, your supper is ready,” Nanny said, her tone softening as she gestured toward the dining hall. I followed obediently, the grand table stretching out before me like a reminder of all I couldn’t have—my parents’ approval, their understanding, their presence. As I waited for my supper, the vision of the mirror flickered at the edges of my thoughts. But I shook my head fiercely, refusing to let it overwhelm me.

Nanny Samantha pushed the dining cart near the table. She placed the covered plate in front of me and raised the cover. "Nanny," I said excitedly, "you made my favorite." I paused. But what would my parents say? "You’ll get in trouble." "Hush, child," nanny said. "Your parents are away, and I thought you needed a pick-me-up." I didn’t argue with her. I picked my fork up and dug in, enjoying the cold pasta and savoring every bite. I enjoyed cold food. The cold texture tasted like heaven. Hot food makes me sick, but my parents forbade me from eating cold foods, saying that is how peasants eat their food. I kicked my legs, enjoying the solitude. My solitude was shattered as footsteps echoed behind me. My father, King Alex, strode into the room, his presence commanding and sharp. My pulse quickened as I rose shakily to my feet. "Father," I stammered, my voice barely audible.

His gaze locked onto the cold pasta in front of me, ignoring me altogether he then shifted to Nanny Samantha. “What is this?” he roared, his voice booming through the hall. “You dare feed my daughter this trash?”

my body froze as my father stormed toward Nanny Samantha, his hand raised to strike. But before the blow could land, I stepped forward, my body shielding Nanny from the slap. The impact hit me with the force of thunder, and the room seemed to still in stunned silence.

King Alex recoiled, his breath catching in his throat as he watched his daughter—watched something unnatural unfold before his very eyes.

My once serene blue gaze had shifted into a violent tempest of red and ice-blue, swirling like opposing storms trapped within my pupils. Power crackled through the air, warping the temperature, sending waves of frost creeping over the floor.

"Eira," my father whispered, his voice faltering, struggling to recognize the child he had raised.

But I didn’t respond.

My breath was ragged, uneven, as my trembling hand lifted—and then, with a force I hadn’t known I possessed, ice exploded outward, spilling across the polished marble, freezing the dining hall in a matter of seconds.

A web of frost shot forward, twisting up the legs of the ornate table, creeping toward my father, trapping his feet while he stood.

The shock in his eyes shifted to fear.

He had seen magic—seen power wielded by sorcerers in the far reaches of the kingdom.

But never like this.

Never from his own fragile daughter.

The air thickened, turning frigid, stealing warmth from the torches lining the room.

I couldn’t stop it.

The storm inside me—the fire, the ice, the clash of two opposing forces—was tearing through my limbs, demanding release.

I gasped, eyes burning, vision tunneling as I prepared to unleash everything—

Then—arms wrapped around me, pulling me back.

A voice, soft and desperate, broke through the chaos that was raging in my mind.

"It’s all right, Eira," Nanny Samantha whispered, holding me tightly, tears started streaming down my face freezing once they land on my cheeks. "It’s all right."

My body shuddered.

My breath slowed.

The fire faded.

The ice withdrew.

And when I blinked, my vision cleared eyes were blue again—not red, not a storm, but the familiar calming shade I had always known.

My strength failed, and I collapsed into Nanny’s arms, my body shaking uncontrollably.

"I don’t know what’s happening to I," I sobbed, my voice breaking under the weight of everything I couldn’t understand.

For a fleeting moInt, the dining hall was silent, the only sound my trembling breath and the faint crackling of ice still spreading in slow curls along the floor.

my father stepped back, his face pale, his body rigid with disgust.

His voice sharp, cold enough to cut through me like steel.

"You are no daughter of mine."

Eira jerked back, her chest tightening, the words striking deeper than any blade.

No.

Not that.

Not him.

He has always showed me kindness, but now

my father turned away, already dismissing me, already erasing me from his sight.

"Go to your room."

The command was final.

The rejection absolute.

I didn’t fight.

Couldn’t.

I turned, my feet barely carrying me, fleeing the hall, my cries echoing down the corridors like a haunting wind.

Behind me, Nanny Samantha stood frozen in place, her hands trembling, her heart breaking.

Then—King Alex’s sharp voice rose again, louder than before.

"Get that woman out of my sight. She is never to set foot in this kingdom again."

The guards moved swiftly.

Nanny Samantha was dragged away, my own cries lost in the distance, swallowed by the walls of a kingdom that had just abandoned them both.

And as I collapsed onto my bed, my body curling into itself, I felt the cold that had covered the dining hall still buried deep inside me—unrelenting, inescapable.

I wasn’t just alone.

I was an outcast.

I didn’t understand it. I’m a princess in a kingdom that didn’t want me.

And if my fathers words held any truth—

Neither does my he.