Page 6 of Their Fierce Little Monster

Chapter

One

DAWN

One Week Later

“It’s going to be all right,” Nilly, my adoptive mother, whispers in her singsong voice, always seeing the bright side of things, even on a morning that’s ready to break me.

We sit on the front step of our cottage. I pull my knees close to my chest and tuck my hands under my thighs, hating how much I’m shaking. I’ve been dreading the Day of the Choosing for weeks, and now that it’s here, I’m a mess.

The sun climbs over Moonstone Village, and it’s busy this morning with people everywhere. Across the lane from our home, Mrs. Wellington sweeps her front step, while Bran fixes the latch on his goat pen. They keep taking quick glances toward the village square where others are gathering, and I can’t blame them. I barely slept a wink last night.

Up and down the roads, white banners with the Moonstone crest and the Chalice hang from lintels, fluttering in the breeze. As if any of us can forget what day it is. Everyone whose name has been added is as terrified as me of being chosen.

My stomach knots tighter.

“I’ll be glad once the day is over,” I reply, catching myself memorizing the way Nilly pushes the hair from her face with a ribbon band, the wrinkles at the corners of her green eyes, and even the beauty spot near her brow.

She opened her home to me as a child, and I hate that sitting here with her feels like a goodbye.

I’m not going to be selected. I repeat the mantra in my mind, but that dull throb in my head isn’t buying it.

Nilly’s hand covers my knee, setting my bouncing feet. “You’ll see, this will pass.” Her fingers tremble slightly before she pulls them away, and I love how brave she’s trying to be for me. I adore her for it. She may not be my real mother, but she might as well be with how much love she gives. “And listen,” she continues. “Remain at the back of the square and keep your chin low. No need to draw any kind of attention.”

“Of course,” I say because she knows why most people keep away from me, but she still adores me as her own.

“Don’t argue with the Barons or the Viscount like you’ve done in the past, and if they speak with you directly, you keep your eyes lowered. Today is not the day to start anything.”

I nod, my throat tightening, also fully aware that most in the village know the Viscount has been watching girls for the last few weeks, for Gods know what horrible intention he has. Many whisper that the man likes obedience from women and enjoys hurting them.

“Today’s a hard day for our village, regardless of what the Barons and the Viscount say. But you don’t need to let the Choosing scare you, Dawn, because you won’t be selected today.” She smiles at me reassuringly.

Hearing her say the words reassures me, and I lean into her. She scoops an arm around my back, and I press in closer, inhaling her lavender-and-honey-soap smell. It always reminds me of home.

The bell rings loudly through the village, calling me to the square, and I flinch. I’ve never been great at being obedient, but today, I want to break the rules more than ever before.

People are traveling along the lanes toward the square, when Nilly says, “Time to join them, Dawn. You don’t want to be late.”

I’m on my feet, exhaling as my white dress dances around my legs from the breeze. Nilly made the formal garment for me. It reaches my ankles, the sleeves long and loose, with a high collar, and it reminds me of dressing someone who is pure, when in truth, it’s a dress for disposing of someone.

Nilly gathers me into her arms. “Be strong and brave.” Then she hands me my headpiece, which she’s been working on for the past two weeks. It’s white, the fabric thin enough to see through, edged in embroidery with tiny flowers and curling vines.

“It turned out beautiful,” I whisper, accepting the ceremonial headpiece.

“Put it on once you reach the square, or the wind will tear it if you’re not careful. Now, go.” She pats my arm, nudging me.

Finally I force my feet to move, and I give her a smile, whispering, “I love you.”

Then I rush toward the main square, the whole time searching for Kazak. But he’s nowhere in sight. It’s unlike him to miss a ceremony.

There are people in every direction, chatting and staring at me and another girl I remember from school who’s running toward the square. Are they pitying us or wishing for me to be taken away from the village instead of the girl who was born here?

Once I arrive at the square, the crowd is enormous, pressing behind the rope barriers, waiting to see which of us gets handed to a monster. My breaths rush because I don’t want to be here. Some parents are waiting and watching, but Nilly said it would be easier if she didn’t attend. I suspect she’s terrified that she’ll hear my name and fall apart, when she’s always been strong for me.

I push forward past people, and there in the middle of the cobblestone arena, potential sacrifices wait nervously. The females stand on the left-hand side, all in white, just like my dress and headpiece, and the boys are off on the right in dark suits.

On the raised platform facing them sits an oversized golden Chalice, with all our names inside. Sunlight spills across its rim, the sheen almost appearing like liquid gold.