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“My Queen,” rang Ulrich’s deep voice. The queen spun, eyes alight in fury.

“Let me remove this obstacle. The child will not stand between you and your throne.” said Ulrich.

Moira was filled with a terrible dread at his words. She remembered Ulrich’s cruel smile from her dream.
“Ulrich, No!”

The queen pulled a tassel hanging from the wall. Curtains fell, covering the mirror and blocking the chamber from view. Soon the fog returned, covering the red fabric and ending Moira’s hopes of dissuading her husband. 

Moira sank to her knees, frightened and defeated. Ulrich was the king’s loyal huntsman. He trained the dogs and hawks, lead the King’s royal hunts, and provided meat for the royal table. Ulrich even taught Eirwyn to hawk and shoot a bow. He took great joy in teaching her sweet niece, as did Moira. Moira had tended the child when she was sick, told her stories of the forest folk, she had even taught the girl some simple magic. She had done her best by Eirwyn, attempting to fill the gaps in her life that were left by her own mother’s indifference. Before the King’s death, he had requested that Moira come to the castle to teach Eirwyn every day. Tragically, the King died before Moira could accept the invitation.

Moira trekked through the glass forest, returning to the glass altar on which she awoke. She lay upon it, curling up like a child, hugging her knees to her chest. Tears spilled from her eyes as she cried herself into a fitful sleep.

The End

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