A Mirror.
But not just any mirror — it stood tall, framed in intricately carved sandalwood, adorned with tiny golden lotuses and apsaras frozen mid-twirl. It shimmered with an otherworldly glow, as though a sliver of the moon had been caught within its glass. What Chandra saw wasn’t just a reflection — it was an enchantment.
She stood frozen, breath caught in her throat.
The image staring back at her wasn’t merely her own. It was... her, but more radiant. More perfect. Her skin gleamed like polished marble; her eyes sparkled with an almost supernatural brilliance. It was her — and yet, not her.
The King beamed with pride. “This mirror is unlike any other, my love. It was gifted by a mystic artisan who claimed it could capture the beauty of a soul... and preserve it forever.”
Chandra stepped closer, unable to look away. Her fingers trembled as she reached out. The surface was cool — yet seemed to pulse faintly beneath her touch.
“It’s... beautiful,” she whispered.
“No,” the King said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “You are beautiful. The mirror only proves it.”
She leaned into his embrace, but her eyes never left the glass.
....................
That night, sleep eluded her. The memory of what she saw lingered, intoxicating and exhilarating. She longed to gaze into the mirror again, but it was the middle of the night. She didn’t want to disturb the King. So she waited, silently willing morning to arrive.
Even before the first light of dawn, she was awake. Slipping out of bed, she crept to the mirror, half-hoping it had all been a dream.
But no — there she was again. Glorious. Divine.
Until now, she had only ever glimpsed herself in the ripple of water — vague, uncertain. But this mirror revealed every detail with impossible clarity.
The King stirred, saw his queen before the mirror, and chuckled as he hugged her from behind.
“My love, I’m glad the gift pleased you,” he murmured, nibbling her ear.
“Mmm... it’s so early, my lord...” she said softly, shyly.
Her eyes remained fixed on the mirror. She could see the King embracing her — his tall, broad frame engulfing her. He had to bend low to kiss her neck. His strength contrasted with her delicate form.
Then she noticed — he was gazing at her through the mirror.
There was a hunger in his eyes, like a tiger studying its prey. She closed her eyes, breath quickening. His hand trailed from her neck to her cheek.
“Look how beautiful you are,” he whispered.
She opened her eyes and stared at her reflection — flushed cheeks, teary eyes, parted lips, her body trembling beneath his touch... yet craving more.
She turned to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and invited his kiss. Their lips met, soft and slow, before he swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed. There, they surrendered to each other completely.
....................
She awoke sore, alone beneath the warmth of a blanket. Sliding to the edge of the bed, still draped in linen, she walked to the mirror.
Am I truly this beautiful? she wondered. The Queen...
Unknowingly, a shadow stirred within her. Possessiveness bloomed. Her attachment to the mirror grew stronger, and slowly, her character began to change.
Chandra, once lively and humble, who loved tending her plants and walking in the garden — now spent hours before the mirror. Nila, her devoted servant and friend, began to notice.
“Rani... can I help you with anything? Shall we take a stroll in the garden?” Nila asked gently.
Chandra glanced at Nila’s reflection, studying her from head to toe.
“You don’t look nearly as pretty as I do,” she said flatly.
Nila flinched. Chandra had never spoken like this before. She told herself she must have misheard.
“Bring me my finest clothes and flowers,” Chandra commanded. “Ask the other maids to assist you.”
Nila obeyed, though the tone of her queen unsettled her. Pride had crept into her voice. Still, Nila chose to believe it was just the Queen stepping into her royal role. She remained loyal.
....................
But Chandra’s obsession deepened.
She adorned herself in lavish silks and jewelry, always seeking more — more admiration, more beauty, more attention. She began to believe she was divine, that all must worship her. Servants became slaves in her eyes.
She even began to believe the King himself was lucky just to be in her presence.
At dinner one evening, Chandra suddenly hurled her goblet to the ground.
“How dare you serve such food!” she screamed, raising her hand to strike Nila.
The King caught her wrist just in time. Nila stood trembling, eyes shut tight.
“Leave us,” the King ordered. “We’re done here.”
Nila fled. Chandra stared after her, feeling the King’s grip tighten. She turned — his eyes blazed with fury. It chilled her.
“Follow me,” he said coldly.
Once in their chamber, he shut the door firmly and stood with arms crossed.
“Rani, what was that? She’s a servant, yes, but still a human being. You are a queen — where is your kindness? Your grace?”
Chandra’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m... I’m sorry, my lord.”
The King’s face softened. He cupped her cheek, wiping her tears. “Please, my queen — be gentle with our people. They are ours to protect.”
In that moment, Chandra realized something dangerous. The King loved his people — but her beauty still bound him. That was his weakness.
A wicked thought bloomed.
She began to wrap the King around her finger. Night after night, she gave him affection and warmth until he became addicted — unable to resist her.
Bit by bit, she conquered the palace — the servants, the halls, the King himself. Her word became law.
But she did not know the cost of this path.
....................
Far away, a great sage was journeying across kingdoms — and now, he approached theirs.
Sage Durva, known across the lands for his wisdom and wrath, had announced a visit. King Vikram Vetha was nervous, ensuring everything was perfect — no room for error.
The sage was welcomed warmly. A grand feast was prepared, and he accepted the King’s invitation to stay awhile.
But darkness still brewed in the Queen’s chamber.
....................
One afternoon, Sage Durva strolled through the royal gardens — a paradise of flowers, fruits, and fragrance. Under the shade of a great tree, he paused to meditate.
Then — voices.
“…enough… but…”
It was a woman. Concerned, the sage listened.
“I don’t think you should keep up with this…” the voice said.
“But this is our Queen,” another replied.
“I know... but Nila—”
“Enough. You should not get involved!” snapped Nila.
“Nila, please. I know you care for the Queen, but she’s changed… look how she treats you—”
“She is my Queen. I will stay loyal,” Nila insisted, pushing her friend away.
Hidden behind the tree, the sage watched in silence. And then — Chandra arrived.
His eyes widened.
The Queen wore an outfit that revealed too much, strutting without shame before the guards — flaunting her beauty like a weapon. It shocked the sage.
Reaching Nila, she grabbed her hair and yanked hard.
“Where were you? Where is the milk I asked for?”
“I… I’m sorry, my highness. I’ll bring it now…” Nila whimpered, wincing.
Chandra yanked her again. Nila fell to her knees.
“My Queen, please don’t be angry,” she sobbed, clutching Chandra’s hand.
“Don’t touch me, you filthy creature!” Chandra hissed, yanking her hand away. “Go!”
As Nila turned, the sage finally saw her face — bruised, tear-streaked, with a swollen cheek.
He watched, stunned, as Chandra sauntered back toward the palace.
A Queen? he thought. This is no Queen… this is arrogance made flesh.
Something had to be done.