The story of how my whole family is a little off begins with a mirror.
As the eldest son of a fallen noble family, my daily life used to consist of just three things: avoiding my sarcastic stepmother, dealing with the eccentric old butler, and trying to remember what I did yesterday.
The castle rules say that every mirror must be covered with velvet after nightfall.
I thought it was just an old aristocratic quirk, until I saw the cloth move by itself.
My elegant stepmother never goes anywhere without a mirror. I suspect she and the person inside it share the same face.
The loyal old butler told me that my family’s ancestral duty is to stay in prison, guarding a “thing” that has slept in the cellar for three hundred years. The price of keeping watch is that our time is trapped in a loop of seven days forever.
So, can someone teach me how to negotiate with a sentient mirror when my life is on the line? I’m waiting online, and it’s pretty urgent!
