“Look at my face and I am someone,' she whispered in his ear. 'Look at my back and I am no one. Who am I?' 'I don't know,' Oak admitted, a shiver running between his shoulders. 'Your mirror, HIghness,' she said, her breath tickling the hairs on his neck. And then she slipped away.” Holly BlackMirrorRiddleThe Stolen HeirOakOak GreenbriarSomeoneRiddlesThe Prisoner S ThroneNoone Book:The Prisoner’s Throne Source: The Prisoner’s Throne