A Midnight Curtain Call

Night had quieted the house entirely, leaving only shadows to attend my final audience. I slipped onto the polished mahogany sideboard, where an ornate oval hand mirror lay flat upon a velvet runner. A solitary crystal marble caught my eye, resting idle near a porcelain dish. With a slow sweep of my boot, I coaxed the glass sphere into motion across the mirror's silvered surface. It rolled in a hypnotic, gleaming arc, reflecting the dark curve of my headdress before coming to rest with a soft, resonant click against the beveled frame. I lowered myself into a stately curtsy to my own reflection. Every sovereign deserves an exquisite close to opening night.