No one in the kingdom had seen Princess Elira’s face for seven years. After the queen’s sudden death, Elira appeared at court wearing a silver veil and never removed it again. The servants whispered that grief had broken her, but the guards knew something darker lived in the palace.
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Every night at midnight, the palace bells rang on their own. When the echoes faded, a soft humming drifted through the corridors—an old lullaby the dead queen used to sing. Anyone who followed the sound never returned.
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Sir Rowan, a young knight, decided to uncover the truth. Armed with courage and a lantern, he followed the humming to the highest tower. There, he found Princess Elira standing before a cracked mirror, her veil glowing faintly.
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“Leave,” she said gently, without turning.
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Rowan refused. With trembling hands, he pulled the veil away.
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Elira’s face was flawless—too flawless. Her eyes were empty hollows, reflecting the mirror behind her. In the glass, Rowan saw the truth: the real Elira stood screaming inside the mirror, her hands pressed against the surface as if trapped beneath water.
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“I died the night my mother did,” the princess whispered. “This body is only what the palace remembers.”
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The bells rang louder. Shadows poured from the walls, forming courtiers, servants, and guards—people who had followed the humming before. All of them had hollow eyes.
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Rowan tried to run, but the floor turned cold and soft like flesh. The mirror cracked wider, and ghostly hands reached out, pulling him in.
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By morning, the bells were silent again. A new shadow stood beside the princess in the mirror.
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And the silver veil was neatly back in place.
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