The girl sat upon her throne high above my head. She was trapped in that glass prison. Again and again, I would save her from that place and carry her in my arms. I remembered how pale her face was, an ill shade of white mixed with a little color of life. Her eyes were deep blue, as if they were sapphires. Her cheeks had small patches of rosy red. Her lips were painted a faint pink that reflected in the light. And her chestnut brown dress was of the best silk in town and had a long skirt that barely reached above her feet. Her most beautiful feature was how her hair was like that of my mother's, golden thread.
This enchanting girl was entrusted to me when my parents had died. My mother told me to protect her as if it was her. And for many years, I had devoted myself to that duty, guarding her fragile body and donning her with fine clothes. She would often watch me from the throne in her glass room, always watching without blinking. Now, I lied in my bed unable to move anymore. All I could do was look upon her face from a distance. I remembered how often she would call me to save her from her glass prison. Unfortunately now, I could only watch her from a distance, looking upon her ageless face staring back at me until my eyes could look no more.
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