To Protect What He Could Not

"Curious."

Came a voice that startled the poor shaken princess. Widened timorous, silver-jeweled optics in tandem with her body maneuvered swiftly to her side— attention now fixed on a peculiar old man, whose left hand was curled on a seemingly ancient staff.

"How curious indeed." Said old man once again stated, earning himself a couple blinks of bewilderment from the baffled princess, as she processed the transpiring occurrence.

"Pardon, sir?" Harris questioned, tiny feet moving a few steps back in cautious-alert. How and when did this old man came into the picture?

"Pray tell, young princess. . ." He trailed off. Gaze sparkling in pure intrigue as he stared at the looming mirror on the wall. His fixation was undescribably apparent, prompting Harris to tighten her grip on the sides of her dress.