This audiobook is narrated by a digital voice.

In the heart of the Whispering Woods, where ancient oaks stretched their gnarled branches toward a canopy that barely allowed sunlight to filter through, stood a cottage that seemed to have grown from the earth itself. Ivy crawled up its stone walls, morning glories bloomed in impossible shades of purple and gold, and the very air around it shimmered with an otherworldly quality that made travelers quicken their pace and avert their eyes.

Within this cottage lived Seraphina, a young woman of twenty-three winters, whose raven-black hair caught the light like spun silk and whose eyes held the deep green of forest pools after rain. She had lived alone in the cottage for as long as she could remember, tending to her herb garden, weaving tapestries that seemed to move with life of their own, and caring for the wounded creatures that found their way to her door.

But Seraphina was not entirely alone. In the main room of her cottage stood an ornate mirror, its silver frame carved with roses and thorns that seemed to shift and change when viewed from the corner of one's eye. This was no ordinary looking glass, for it possessed a consciousness as old as the forest itself, and it had watched over Seraphina since she was but a child of seven, when she had first stumbled, lost and afraid, through the cottage door.

"Good morning, dear Mirror," Seraphina said as she entered the main room, carrying a tray of fresh bread and honey. The morning light streaming through the windows caught the mirror's surface, making it gleam like still water.

"Good morning, sweet Seraphina," came the reply, the voice emerging from the glass like a gentle whisper of wind through leaves. "I see you've been busy in the garden again. The lavender speaks of your tender touch, and the roses sing your praises."

...

...