With a flutter of panic, and doing your best to ignore the jerk waiting impatiently, you sink to a knee by your fallen prince.
His eyes seem a little crossed, and you bite your lip for a second, afraid a chuckle might slip out.
Jerk prince clears his throat several times, then flings a sarcastic, "Pity!" over his bony shoulder as he steps rapidly away.
You keep trying to reconcile the fact that this specimen of masculine perfection just materialized out of the broken mirror. With exasperation, you think, 'Why do my heart beats have to overpower my ears?'