Emily’s POV
The next morning air was colder than usual, like the gods themselves knew what was coming. My body trembled, not just from the shackles that clanged around my wrists and ankles, but from the heavy silence in the courtyard.
Guards dragged me to the palace square where a large crowd of slaves had already gathered — silent, stiff, and afraid waiting to see what punishment are they going to give me. I could feel their eyes on me. Some knew me. Some pitied me. But none dared to speak.
A platform had been built overnight, surrounded by iron spikes and banners of the royal family. On the platform stood a mirror — tall, spotless, and shining cruelly in the sun. My heart dropped.
“The Mirror of Shame,” I whispered under my breath. I’d heard about it from the older slaves. Few surviv
