Sensing that this is a tense moment, Azoth flies down off Christine's shoulder to the floor and chirps at Alistair to come over to her. She'll keep him entertained while Christine looks.

The fabric is gently pulled away from the mirror until Christine is pinching one corner of the mirror with the fabric, unsure if the shard is sharp. She stares into it and studies her own face. Fair complexion, blue-gray eyes, fine lines around her mouth both from laughter and frowns. Just as she starts to blink, the image shifts to show her staring back with scales starting to show. She quickly lowers the mirror to her side, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Maybe," she starts slowly, "Maybe it's a mistake. Maybe it adds an enchantment, instead of taking one away." She's desperate for any answer except the one that links her more closely with those wretched dragons.