Next morning, I go to take my pill as normal before remembering the Swan’s words. The packet stares up at me from the waste bin and I feel a pang of guilt for the cost. But if not taking it proves I don’t need it, then instead of buying medicine for me, we can buy what Father needs.

“How are you feeling?” my mother asks as I sit down to breakfast.

Tiredness washes over me. I didn’t sleep much last night. My mind was too busy mulling over the revelations of yesterday. And when I did finally drift off, my dreams were full of beautiful women in tight dresses that barely covered their chests, swirling around me, whispering that they were my mother, that I was too ugly, too ugly to be worth keeping. And then they transformed into huge white-winged birds and carried me off with them into the sky.

“I’ve felt better,” I admit. “What you said yesterday. It was a shock.” I catch a glimpse of their worried faces and force myself to smile. “But you’re my real parents. You’re the ones who’ve looked after me for years. Just because you didn’t give birth to me doesn’t change that.”

“Oh, Jane!” My mother wraps her arms around me and even my father — never one to really display affection — has tears in his eyes as he pats my hand.

“You’re our girl and always will be,” he says gruffly.

“So, what would you like to do to celebrate your birthday?” My mother asks brightly, pushing a pile of toast over to my father. “Would you like to, err, invite any friends over?”

I roll my eyes. “You know I don’t have any friends. Apart from Rafe,” I add and lower my gaze so they don’t see my cheeks flushing. The circle of grass is still there on my left hand.

“Well, invite him, then, and I’ll cook a nice meal.”

“You know, Jane, once you’re eighteen, you’re free to choose to do what you want,” my father wheezes. “You know we welcome your help with the farm, but if you want to go to the city, like your brother and sister, we don’t want to hold you back.”

I snort. “There’s nothing I want less than to go to the city. It’s all so … so sterile there. I’m much happier out here.”

And I couldn’t leave here. Without me, the farm would go to rack and ruin and they’d lose their only income source. Even if I got a basic job in the city, I doubt I’d be able to earn enough for them to hire a decent farmhand. Besides, I wasn’t lying, I am much happier out here. Where I can run through the woods and swim in the ponds and not have to see people.

On my way out the door, I run into our android. It bounces back, twirling on the spot. A message flashes up, addressed to my mother. It’s from Dr Odekele — my doctor.

“Open message,” I instruct the android.

It whirrs sorrowfully. “Access denied.”

“But it’s about me!” I scowl into its vision sensor. It’s an old model but still capable of picking up basic human emotions.

“I’m sorry, Jane. I’m not permitted to share other people’s messages.”

I move to let it enter the kitchen. But rather than open the message in front of us, my mother leads the android into the next room to take it in private.

She returns a moment later, her face pale and tight. My father looks up at her but she shakes her head slightly and he buries his head in his hands.

Fear stabs me in the stomach. “W-what’s wrong? What did Dr Odekele say?”

“Have you looked in a mirror recently, Jane?” my mother asks.

I shake my head silently. What an odd question. Of course, I haven’t looked in a mirror. The only one in the house is in my parents’ room. Father removed all the others after my sister left at my request. You don’t need mirrors when you’re ugly.

My mother leaves the room, her footsteps padding up the stairs.

“Father? What’s this all about?”

He just shakes his head and refuses to look at me.

“Here, look in this.” Mother returns and holds out a small hand mirror.

I hesitate for a moment then take it, the familiar rush of adrenaline and disgust rising in me as I lift it toward my face. When was the last time I looked in a mirror? Three years ago? Four? I know what I’m about to see. A heart-shaped face, mottled on one side by the birthmark and rough, scarred skin, surrounded by dirty brown hair that’s neither straight nor curly.

Except this time, something is different.

The birthmark has almost gone. Faded to a purple tinge.

My skin is smooth.

I run my fingers over my cheek. There is still some unevenness and the odd pockmarked section, but nothing like what it used to be. The ridges and whorls that disfigured the left side of my face.

“What …?” I don’t know what to say, what to ask. What is this miracle?

“They’re fading. Your marks are fading.” My mother seems sad, distraught even, but why? This is a good thing, surely?

A bubble of happiness swells inside me and the corners of my mouth turn up in a smile. Will I finally get to be normal?

“It’s too soon!” my father cries and the anguish in his voice causes the smile to drop from my face.

I look from him to my mother and back again, more confused than ever. Don’t they want me to be happy? My mother beckons me to her and wraps her arms around me. Closing my eyes, I breathe in her sweet vanilla scent.

“We didn’t get a chance to finish telling you about your mother,” she says finally.

I pull back. “There’s more?”

She nods and points at a chair. I sink into it.

“As you now know, your birth mother was a Swan. And she unexpectedly had twins. The lord who’d got her pregnant was expecting one baby, not two. She saw an opportunity to save one of you, to keep you away from the Swan. That’s why she begged me to take you in. We were sworn to secrecy. Only the three of us knew: her, my midwife friend, and me. She didn’t want to give you away because you were ugly — she wanted to give you away because you were beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” I whisper. “But why?”

“Because she didn’t want you to suffer the life of a Swan.” My mother lowers her voice. “It’s not what you think. All those jewels and expensive clothes — they’re just a cover. They’re courtesans. Playthings for the lords. Women are abused. They’re made to do unspeakable things.” She swallows hard and grips my hand. “Many of them don’t survive the experience.”

The words hang in the air between us.

I think of the white-haired woman. She had been beautiful. But she hadn’t looked happy.

My mother looks around nervously. “Jane, you mustn’t repeat any of this to anyone. Just talking about it could get us arrested. It would be considered treason. I had to sign a confidentiality agreement when I worked in the castle. If they knew I’d broken it … Anyway, your mother was desperate for you to avoid that fate. She sent money every year for your medicine until four years ago. Then it stopped. We never found out why.”

It all clicks into place. My parents’ insistence that I take the medicine every day, even though I’ve never felt sick. And the white-haired woman’s questioning about my pills. How she’d somehow known the name of them.

“The medicine caused the marks on my skin?”

My mother nods, her eyes full of sympathy and pain. “There was no other way, Jane. If you could get through your Selection Day without being chosen, you’d be safe. Living out here, there’s no way they would find you after that.”

I pull my hand away. “You made me ugly? All these years I’ve been teased and bullied and it was all preventable?” I stand, pushing my chair back so hard it falls to the floor.

“Sit down, Jane. You can’t run this time.” My father’s voice stops me in my tracks.

“I hated seeing you like that, Jane, but you have to believe me, it was better than the alternative. And everything was going to plan until recently … It stopped working. In the last two months, your skin has improved. It was only a slight change at first. Dr Odekele increased your dose to see if that would stop it, but it hasn’t. And in the last week, your birthmark has almost vanished. I contacted him again,” she waves at the android, “and that was his response. He doesn’t know why it’s not working. He thinks it may be the final effects of puberty, that your body is resisting the medicine, but he doesn’t know!” Her final words are almost a howl. Tears well in her eyes.

“We needed to tell you this before the Selection Day,” my father cuts in.

“The Selection Day?” I laugh scornfully. “Come on, Father, even if my skin has improved, it’s hardly likely they’re going to choose me to be a Swan.”

He shakes his head sadly. “Jane, you don’t realise how beautiful you are.”

“And if the effects of the medicine fade completely, there’s no way they’ll overlook you,” my mother adds.

I think of the pill packet in the waste bin upstairs. Picking up the mirror I look in it again. Am I really beautiful? The face in the mirror is mine … But also not mine.

“I-I need to go and work. The ’ponics filters need cleaning. I need to go, to think.” My words stumble over each other as I stagger from the room.

My parents have admitted they’ve been lying to me for years. Deliberately changing my looks, changing who I am, making me ugly. It seems they’re not the kind, caring people I thought they were. Maybe making me ugly is their way of ensuring I stay here on the farm and don’t run off to the city like my brother and sister. Perhaps their motives are selfish.

Or perhaps they’ve been trying to save my life.

* * *

My eighteenth birthday is a subdued affair. My parents try their best, but none of us can forget that tomorrow is my Selection Day.

The marks on my skin have almost gone now. It feels strange to run my fingers over smooth skin and to look in the mirror and not be repulsed. There is still a faint purple tinge on one part of my face but based on how quickly it’s faded, it’ll be completely gone in another week.

My mother’s spent the past two days coming up with pastes and dyes to put on my face to mimic the marks I used to have. Project “make Jane ugly”. I’ve caught the terror in her eyes a couple of times, when she doesn’t think I’m watching, and it scares me. If she’s going to these lengths to protect me, the fate of a Swan must be really bad.

Rafe comes over for dinner. Mother cooks a lovely meal with real meat and a cake. There is even wine, but it tastes sour on my tongue. I know this has cost them dearly, but I wish they’d put the money towards Father’s medicine instead.

Once Rafe has left, we go to the sitting room. After a few minutes, Mother excuses herself and I hear her go up to their bedroom. When she returns, she’s holding a small box. My heart sinks. Please, not a gift. Not more money we don’t have.

“We have something for you, Jane. It’s from your birth mother, not us.” She smiles. “It arrived a week after you were born and has been in our drawer ever since, waiting for this day.”

My pulse quickens as I lean forward to take the box.

“The box is one of mine,” she adds quickly. “But what’s inside is from your mother. Your real mother, I mean.”

I smile up at her. “You are my mother.”

She turns her head away, but not before I see the tear that rolls down her cheek.

My hands tremble as I slowly open the lid. Inside is a gold pendant, or rather half a gold pendant. It’s a rough semi-circle and the straight edge is jagged as if it’s inexpertly been cut in two. I run my finger down the edge and gasp at the sharpness.

“The edge may need filing down,” my father says. “But I didn’t want to do anything with it until you’d seen it.”

The pendant has an intricate woven border. In the centre, there’s a raised image of what looks to be the head of an animal, but there’s not enough left for me to make out what it is.

“What happened to it?”

“I remember the pendant when it was whole. Your mother was wearing it when she gave birth to you. There was no note of explanation that came with it, but I think perhaps she cut it and sent one half to you and gave the other half to your sister.”

My sister. Of course, I was a twin. “What happened to her? My sister, I mean.”

“I don’t know. The lord may have taken her as his daughter — it’s not unheard of. Or your mother may have kept her. There were always a few children in the Swan’s quarters. Or she may have been given up for adoption.”

The pendant glints in the light as I hold it up. “Do you remember what the symbol was on it?”

My mother shakes her head. “No. Some kind of animal head, I think? But I was too busy trying to get the pair of you out safely to be worrying about a necklace. It’s pure gold, though.”

I hold it out to her. “Take it. Sell it for Father’s medicine.” They look at me sorrowfully. “Please! I don’t want it. It means nothing to me!” Tears well up in my eyes. “If it’s gold it must be worth something?”

“It’s not ours to sell, Jane.” My father says quietly. “And even if we wanted to, we don’t know where your mother got it from. It could be an emblem of one of the great houses. If we tried to sell it, we’d get arrested, tried for theft.”

I suddenly feel sick. Dropping the pendant back into the box, I shut the lid and push it away from me.

“At least now you don’t need to buy any more pills for me or pay Dr Okedele.” I try and keep my voice light, but it sounds falsely bright in the gloom that dominates the room. “It can’t take too long to save up enough for your medicine.”

My parents look at each other nervously and my heart sinks.

“What? What else haven’t you told me?”

Father clears his throat. “The money your birth mother sent us covered most of the cost of your medicine. But four years ago, the money stopped. Since then, we’ve been paying for it ourselves, but as I haven’t been able to work recently, the farm hasn’t been making the money it should. And we had that bad harvest three years ago …”

I press my fingers to my forehead. My head is throbbing. “So, you borrowed money?”

My father nods, his cheeks burning with shame.

He hates the idea of debt. They both do. I never thought …

“It doesn’t matter, Jane. We just wanted you to be safe. And once you get through the Selection Day, we can start to pay the money back. Now, we should all get an early night and some rest before tomorrow.” Now it’s my mother’s turn to sound falsely bright.

I kiss them both and walk up the stairs. The box feels as if it’s burning a hole in my hands.

I lie in bed, tossing and turning, trying to think of some way I can solve this problem. They must have gone to the lender in the village. No wonder my mother’s barely been up there — she’s too ashamed to see anyone. I’ve ruined their lives. And now, Father may die before we can afford the medicine he needs. All because of me. And if the pastes and dyes don’t work, if that Swan with the white hair picks me out tomorrow at the Selection Day, then—

I sit bolt upright.

There is a way to get the money. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier. But it would mean going against my parents’ wishes and giving up my life here and my future with Rafe.

It would mean becoming a Swan.