Alysia pauses outside the beautiful glass door. From the moment she had stepped through the archway of her ideal fairy tale castle, through the marble corridors where her reflection had danced around her and the small oasis of surreal flowers reached out with their tendrils of long fingers, she had known this was the place. The place people spend their lifetime dreaming of; a reality beyond our own.

She wonders, in that brief second before the glass door slides open, whether she would end up with her head on a spike, a warning to travellers as they passed under the battlements. But instead, here she is undergoing a grand tour of a prison she will never escape from- high up in the sky, in this castle made of ice and glass. The lucky one.

“You wonder if you’ll die here.” Alden mocks.

In that moment, she imagines what it would be like, to bury her nails in that pearly white skin, to destroy the mask of that cruel vanity. She would make him endure the hurt and grief she felt, until there was nothing left but fine ashy dust.

He turns, and the moment is lost. The room is lit with a brightness that makes her eyes water. When at last they focus, her attention is drawn to polished surfaces, light falling on crystal clear ice. Five glass cabinets stand altogether, three on one side of the room, two on the other. In each are a perfect life-sized figurine.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Until then Alden had been silent, but as he gazes at his creation he cannot help but feel pride at what he had accomplished. Each model has a full-length dress, perfectly designed to fit their slender bodies.

Her eyes travel from one ice cabinet to another, taking in everything, each elegant cut, each precise fold, each perfectly tied ribbon, each layer and frill. They were made by a fine hand.

Alysia’s eyes rest on one final ice showcase, separate from the others. It has an ornate silver handle, a key with a dark purple ribbon; and hanging off it, a glowing jade in the shape of a cicada.

“It’s empty.” Her face will not betray her.

Alden smiles. “Ah. That’s going to be my greatest creation, one that will surpass all the rest.” He pauses, then- “Come, there is somewhere else I wish to show you.” She wrenches her eyes away from the cabinets with their starry beautiful figurines, their features a mask of tranquillity and ease, to follow him; the figure in black. She catches her reflection in a panel.

Alysia’s eyes are sharp and watchful, hair no longer a flaxen gold. There is no doubt about it. Something about her is changing. She has lost her…softness, her wonder at the things around- call it what you will.

Now it is about survival. For Alysia has not aged a single day since entering the castle.