03
I caught sight of my mom perched on a peculiar stool, her movements strange and almost ritualistic.
After what felt like ages, she stood up and fetched a basin of water, meticulously cleaning the glamour stool while talking to herself. Then, out of nowhere, I heard my dad’s name slip from her lips,
Once, when she’d been drinking, she’d called out his name. I had asked her what he was like, but that had sent her into a rage.
She told me never to mention him again, and I took that to heart, Since then, the topic had been off–limits
Once my mom finished washing the stool, she carefully wrapped it up and tucked it away in the safe
I dashed back to my room, my mind racing. Could that be her first glamour stool?
She always said that a maker’s first glamour stool was made for themselves. But I had a boyfriend now, so I didn’t need one.
I planned to sell my stool and travel with Zephyr instead.
The next morning, my mom pulled me into her bedroom and opened her safe.
“You’ve always wanted to see what a glamour stool looks like, right? Today’s your day
I struggled to contain my excitement as I followed her inside.
She gently lifted a large box from the safe, and when she opened it, a rich, enticing fragrance wafted out, enveloping me.
It was the same stool she had sat on last night.
The stool had an old–world charm, but its material was unusual, definitely not wood or stone. It was almost like skin.
Just the thought gave me goosebumps.
I was about to sit on it when my mom suddenly pushed me aside. “This is my glamour stool. Only I can sit on it. You’ll have your own one day?
If I couldn’t sit on it, touching it should be okay, right?
But as I reached out, my mom blocked my hand again.
“You can only touch the sides, not the top.
I nodded, feeling the soft surface beneath my fingers.
Oddly enough, it felt alive, almost as if the stool was breathing and welcoming my touch. When I pulled my hand away it seemed to lean toward me,
as if it craved more contact.
Seeing I was finished, my mom crouched down, cradling the stool as she closed her eyes and rubbed it lovingly. “Cedric, do you see? Your daughter has grown up. She’s not like you. She’s like me.”
I turned to the mirror, scrutinizing my features. None of them resembled my mom’s.
“She has a boyfriend now. You’ll meet him soon. He’s even more bandsome and accomplished than you. Lyra will definitely create the best glamour
stool in the world.
As listened, an unsettling feeling washed over me, making me think of the stool as a stand–in for my
My mom filled another basin with water and began washing the stool with a tender touch.
“Lyra, remember to clean the stool thoroughly after using it.”
I nodded, trying to absorb every word.
Then she handed me an old, worn leather book.
“The methods for making the stool are all in here. You can look through it yourself.”
I opened the book, took one glance, and screamed, flinging it away in shock.
dad.
I stared at my mom, covering my mouth in disbelief as I stumbled outside and collapsed beside the flowerbed, my stomach churning violently as I
