When the young man found me, I had been shut away for a long, long time. How did he find me? Not by any ordinary means. The Castle of the Golden Sun is not on any map. Yet, he arrived, and when he came in, he was shocked to see me. My skin was grey and wrinkled, my eyes were bleary, and I had hardly any hair left on my head.
“Are you the king’s daughter, whose beauty the whole world praises?” he cried.
“Ah,” said I, “but this is not my form. Human eyes can only see me in this state of ugliness. But if you wish to know what I look like, look in the mirror—it does not let itself be misled—it will show you my image as it is in truth.”
Would he look, I wondered? Or would he run away?