Five days. I feel like a caged animal, unable to escape. Every day I stare out of the small pane of glass, craning my neck to catch a glimpse of the top of the forest outside the city walls.

Finally, Isolde returns. She smiles and holds out her hands. “It’s good to see you, Jane. Let me have a look at you.”

I hold my cheek up for inspection.

“Good, this is good,” she says. “I think you’re ready.”

“For what?” I ask.

She doesn’t reply but beckons to someone behind her. A lithe man with skin the colour of burnt umber steps into the room.

“I want her to be ready to present to Leora with the other girls at three. Jane, this is Cleo. He heads up the creative team.” Isolde smiles at me and leaves the room.

The man flashes a set of perfectly white teeth. “Please, come with me, Ms Anas.”.

Finally, I get to leave my room. I’m longing to explore the palace, but we haven’t gone far before I’m shown into a large room in which half a dozen people are milling around. There’s a cubicle in one corner that looks like the cleaning unit in my bathroom, and images of hairstyles and made-up faces hover around the room.

“This is the transformation centre.” Cleo waves his arm around the room and heads turned towards me. “This is where we will decide on your look. What hairstyles suit you most and the exact combination of makeup you will wear. We’ll programme the details into the combination unit in your bathroom so all you’ll need to do is press a button each day to replicate the effect.”

I stare at him and he smiles gently. “You haven’t come across these units before, have you?”

I shake my head, feeling slightly nauseous.

“There are always one or two girls each year who haven’t had the advantages of modern technology at home. You’ll get used to it soon enough.”

He made it sound like a quick process. He was wrong. After a while, I tune out the voices around me, debating what shade of lip gloss I should wear and whether my hair is better up or down. Periodically, I’m sent into the cubicle where I’m sprayed with a fine mist. A gust of air lifts my hair and twists it into a fancy hairstyle. When I emerge, the creative team look me up and down and argue amongst themselves a bit more. Then they send me back to the cleaning unit to scrub it all off.

We go through this process about five or six times before they finally seem to settle on a look they like. “What do you think, Ms Anas?” Cleo says, his eyes shining with anticipation.

The midnight blue wall beside me fades into a mirror. I turn and gasp. A woman stares back at me. A beautiful woman. I lift my hand to touch my cheek and the woman mirrors my action. It’s me. But she looks like a stranger. Brown curls with a trace of red threaded through are piled up on top of my head. Black lines rim my hazel eyes and my eyelids have been lightly coloured to make them seem larger. But the thing that amazes me most is my skin. It almost glows and is so smooth, my fingers brush off it like glass.

“Impossible,” I whisper.

Cleo takes my comment for appreciation. He claps his hands. “I knew you’d like it!” He cocks his head to one side like a bird. “You know, I think you might be the most beautiful one we’ve had so far.”

My cheeks burn and I’m relieved to see that it doesn’t show through the makeup.

Cleo speaks into a comm unit on the wall and a moment later, Isolde appears in the doorway. She smiles when she sees me. “Well done, Cleo. You have excelled yourself.”

He preens in response.

“Come with me, Jane.”

Icy fingers tighten my stomach. She had mentioned an inspection. I stumble as we leave the room and she gives me a sharp look. “You are going to be presented to Leora. She is the Head Swan. The current favourite of the King.”

Is it my imagination, or did she emphasize the word ‘current’?

We walk down a flight of stairs and into a large chamber with a wall of glass at one end that looks out over the palace wall to the forest beyond. Paintings hang on the wall and red velvet chaise longues line the sides of the room. The floor is a mosaic of tiny tiles that form a picture: the lions, trees, and cats that make up the Royal Crest. A line of girls about my age stand in the centre of the room. I don’t recognise any of them and I wonder what’s happened to Anoushka while I’ve been locked in my room.

A moment later, a side door opens and the most beautiful woman I have ever seen walks in. She looks young, barely older than us. Blonde hair cascades down her back. She wears a low-cut, clinging sheath that reflects the green in her eyes and her skin glows in the warm golden light of the room. Isolde walks over and murmurs something to her. The blonde lady nods then turns to address us.

“My name is Leora. I am the king’s consort and Head Swan. I hope you have all made yourselves at home here. It is my responsibility to maintain discipline within the Swans and make sure that we fulfil our duties. Here, in the palace, you will not want for anything. Clothes, jewellery, professional styling — all this is yours.” She inclined her head towards us. “But we also have a job to do. We provide company, a sympathetic ear, and occasionally accompany one of the lords to an event as his companion. And yes, we provide for their … desires.”

She surveys us, her eyes lingering on me just a little too long. “We have two rules here which you must obey. Firstly, you do not speak of anything that goes on in the palace or as part of your duties to anyone. Ever. Secondly, you will always put the men’s needs first. The lords have different …” She pauses for a second. “Preferences. You may not find them all agreeable. If at any time you feel in danger, or unwilling to do what a man asks of you, you should come and see me.”

She breaks into a smile which lights up her face and makes her eyes sparkle. “Welcome to the palace, girls. Now, let’s have a look at you.”

She walks down the line, stopping to talk to each girl, to find out their name, where they’re from, and if they have any particular skills.

When she reaches me, I look up into her clear, green eyes. She smiles, then glancing down, lets out a sharp gasp. A look of shock crosses her face but quickly disappears as she regains her normal composure.

“Jane, please come with me.” She looks back at the line of girls. “The rest of you are dismissed.”

She beckons me through into a small sitting room off the main hall. She closes the door, then covers the distance between us in four long strides.

“Where did you get that pendant?” Her voice is tight and full of emotion. I flinch as she reaches out a hand toward my neck but she checks herself and lets her arm drop to her side.

“I-I was given it by my mother.”

A frown creases her forehead. “Your mother?”

I say silent, not sure what to tell her. But eventually, curiosity overcomes me. If she recognises the pendant, perhaps she knows something about my birth mother.

“My adoptive mother gave it to me. She said my birth mother sent it to me when I was a baby. My twin sister has the other half.”

Leora walks over to an ornate fireplace. She drums her fingers on the mantelpiece.

“How old are you, Jane? I mean exactly. When is your birthday?”

“I’ve just turned eighteen. My birthday was six days ago.”

Her face tightens in the mirror. “Wait here.” She leaves the room and returns again five minutes later with something in her hand. She walks over to me and holds her hand out, palm upright. There’s a glint of gold.

“I was born here, in the palace. My mother was a Swan and my father a lord, though he never recognised me as his daughter. Before my mother died, she gave me this. She explained I had a twin sister. She never told me who she was or where I could find her. All she said was that she — you — had the other half of this necklace.”

I stare at the gold pendant in her hand. Slowly, I unfasten the chain from around my neck and place my half-pendant against the one in her hand. They match perfectly.

“You’re my sister?”

She nods. “I thought there was something slightly familiar about you when I first saw you. We have different colouring, but the same eyes. Look.” She guides me over to the mirror.

I stare at our reflections. Her hair is blonde and mine is dark, but our faces are a similar shape. And our eyes could have been cut from the same mould. Thoughts and questions rush through my head, but, like sticks on a raging river, none of them stays still long enough for me to voice my thoughts.

Leora pulls me away from the mirror and over to the window. She lowers her voice to a whisper. “There are cameras everywhere in this place. We must be careful not to be overheard.”

I nod dumbly.

“It’s amazing to finally meet you.” Her fingers tremble on my arm. “But I wish you weren’t here. Mother wanted to save you from this place. She thought you’d be safe in the country. Anyway, that doesn’t matter now. Out there, I told you girls what I was supposed to tell you. Now, I’ll tell you the truth you need to know.

“Life here is tough. Being beautiful isn’t enough — you need to be smart to survive. And cunning. No one is your friend here, however much they may pretend to be. We are all competitors. Everyone wants to be me and some will stop at nothing to get what they want. Do you understand?”

“I-I think so.” My heart sinks. Is this to be my life from now on? A game of survival.

A thought suddenly occurs to me. “How can you be the king’s consort? Surely, you’re the same age as me?”

She nods. “An exception was made for me. The king caught sight of me a year ago just after I turned seventeen and he became obsessed with me. Legally, I shouldn’t have become a Swan until this year, but he’s the one who makes the laws.” She shrugs. “At least I knew what to expect.”

She smiles gently at me and it’s the first smile I’ve seen since I arrived here that seems genuine. “You’re beautiful, Jane. There’s a glow inside you, an innocence, perhaps, that makes you even more beautiful than me. But unless you’re much tougher than you look, this place will kill you.”

I swallow hard. “Can … Is there any way out of here?”

She shakes her head. “You know the law. Once you are chosen, this is your life. There’s no going back. Even if you did manage to escape, your family would be punished for your disobedience.” She frowns slightly. “The only way—”

The door opens behind us and my sister stiffens. Isolde looks into the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I understand his Majesty is waiting for you, Leora.”

“Indeed. We were just finishing our discussion.”

She strides out of the room without looking back. Isolde waits until she’s left before walking over to me.

“What was she saying to you?”

I step backwards, taken aback by the ferocity of her words. “What do you mean? She was just asking about my background.”

“Be careful.” Isolde lowers her voice. “She sees you as a threat. And you don’t get to be Head Swan without knowing how to take people down.”

Her words bounce around my head as we walk out of the room.

Is anyone here who they seem?