“You will wait here,” Isolde says, showing me into yet another room. There’s a momentary silence as the chatter in the room falls off and the girls Leora had dismissed stare at me. Then they turn their backs and resume their conversations.

Chairs and sofas are dotted around the room, and drinks and snacks are laid out on small tables. At one end, double doors open out into a garden. Two men dressed in uniforms stand passively on either side of the doors.

I down a glass of the fruit juice, and then a second. They barely wet my parched throat. My stomach gurgles, reminding me that I’ve not yet had lunch, but the food on the table is so insubstantial that I doubt it will fill me up. Besides, it hasn’t been touched. The other girls are not eating.

I walk over to one of the groups and try and insert myself into their conversation. But they just stare at me with such hate that I turn away, embarrassed. They must think that Leora picked me out to favour me. I would smile at the irony if it wasn’t so painful. Two months ago, I was reviled for being ugly. Now, I’m reviled for being beautiful.

A faint breeze enters the room, carrying the scent of orange blossom, a smell so familiar that it brings tears to my eyes. I walk over to the door. One of the guards moves to block me, but I give him such a pleading look, that he relents.

“Just don’t go far,” he tells me as I step outside.

I lift my face to the sun and close my eyes, letting it warm my skin. I try and imagine that I’m back on the farm, but the smells are all wrong. There’s no woody smell of fallen leaves or the acrid stench of pig muck. Just the sweet perfume of flowers that are not even in season. I wonder if it is ever winter in these gardens.

A blue mosaic path leads me through the orange trees to a pond with a trickling fountain. Jewelled fish swim lazily around in the water. I walk deeper into the garden until I come across an orchard. The apple trees are old and heavy with fruit.

The sound of faint sobs draws my attention. I follow the noise through the trees to a figure, curled up in a ball on a small patch of lawn underneath a beech tree. It’s Anoushka.

She looks up as I approach. There’s a flash of terror in her eyes which turns to relief when she recognises me. Her eyes are red and swollen and her makeup is smudged by tears.

Kneeling down, I tentatively stretch an arm around her. “What’s wrong, Anoushka?”

She turns to me and I notice a large bruise on her cheek, barely visible under the makeup. Breath hisses through my teeth.

She gives me a sad smile. “The medical unit here managed to heal most of it.”

“What happened?” I whisper.

Her fingers twist around each other as if she can’t bear to be still, even for a second. “Last night we were presented to the lords. It was exciting at first. They threw a huge party and we were the centre of attention. Men chatted with us, offered us wine. I maybe had a bit too much of that, but I was so nervous. I just wanted to do everything right. Then they made us line up, as we had when Leora first inspected us.”

She gives a short laugh and stares out at the garden. “It was like they were bartering for meat at the market. Most men wanted the other girls — the skinny girls. But there were two men who both wanted me. The man who won was old, old enough to be my father. But he was kind of handsome.”

“And you went with him?” I bite my lip, remembering what my mother had told me.

Anoushka nods. “I was almost looking forward to it, in a way,” she admits. “But it wasn’t like I thought it would be. I know Leora said that some of the men had unusual tastes, but I didn’t really realise what she meant.” She picks at the fine fabric of her dress, teasing a thread free. Her voice is a flat, lifeless monotone. “H-he was rough. It hurt. And that seemed to make him enjoy it even more … It was like he wanted me to cry out in pain.”

Her eyes are dull, her shoulders hunched. I can’t see anything in her of the bright, pretty girl I knew from school. I rub her back gently, wondering what to say. “Can you speak to Leora about it?”

The question snaps Anoushka out of her daze. “No. At least, I don’t know. I think I’ll just be seen as a troublemaker. But he wants me to go back tonight.” Fresh tears spring to her eyes. “I—”

“Jane!”

Our heads snap up. I recognised the voice. Isolde. I start to rise, then look back down at Anoushka.

She waves at me. “Go! I don’t want them to find me here. Not like this.”

As I walk away, I glance back and see her hugging her knees to her chest.

Isolde stands in front of the double doors looking irritated. The room behind her is empty. “There you are,” she says crossly, glaring at the guard who let me out. She grabs my arm roughly and pulls me back into the room. “You need to come and change. The king wants to see you all. Now.”

Back in my room, she orders me to strip and holds out a dress. “I had this made especially for you.”

The fabric is so thin that I’m terrified of ripping it and my hands shake so much that the maid has to help me fasten the delicate buttons.

Isolde tilts her head to one side, appraising me. “Take that necklace off. It doesn’t go with the outfit.”

My hand flies to the gold pendant at my neck. “But—”

Anger flashes in her eyes. “No ‘buts’, Jane.”

Reluctantly, I take it off. It catches slightly on the high neck of the dress as I pull it away and there’s a sharp intake of breath from the maid. But the dress remains intact.

The maid opens a panel on the wall to reveal a mirror and Isolde nudges me in front of it. I look at my reflection, my eyes immediately drawn to my chest, and gasp in horror.

“I can’t go out in this!” Instinctively, I wrap my arms around my chest. Heat rises to my cheeks.

Isolde places two fingers on each of my shoulders and pulls them back. “You must show yourself off to your full advantage, Jane. Did you learn nothing from those tutorials?” She gives a small smile of satisfaction. “The king won’t be able to resist you in this.”

“That’s because I’m practically naked,” I mutter.

“Nonsense. It just emphasizes your best features.”

The dress is made of a flimsy material that clings to my body. Although it has a high choker neck, a teardrop cut-out below reveals bare skin down to my breasts. There’s a larger cut-out on the back that narrows to a point at the base of my spine. If that wasn’t bad enough, the material itself is transparent in places. The overall look gives the impression that an artist has painted my body, strategically covering the minimum that has to remain hidden for decency. Or, at least, Isolde’s definition of decency.

“The fabric is fine, so you’ll need to be careful,” Isolde says. “No tripping up.”

Too right. It feels as if a single tug could pull the whole thing from my body. Perhaps that’s the point of it.

She leads me back to the large impressive room, which I’m beginning to think of as the inspection hall. The other girls are waiting, along with a few other Swans who stand together in the corner. I wonder if they’re comparing notes. After a few minutes, the door opens and Leora walks in. Her eyes widen as she catches sight of me but she says nothing.

We’re lined up again, and when she’s satisfied with us, Leora leaves the room. She returns a few minutes later with a tall, handsome man with dark hair and a shadow of a beard. He wears a perfectly tailored jacket over a white shirt and dark jeans. The king.

My stomach churns and I wonder if I’m going to be sick. I shiver, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the room.

“Look up, girls. I don’t bite.” His voice is smooth and polished, and slightly mocking.

Reluctantly, I lift my eyes from the floor to find him staring straight at me. I swallow hard.

“Your Majesty,” Leora says, indicating the first girl in line.

He moves from girl to girl, stopping to speak with each of them. The air grows thicker as he comes toward me and I feel as if I’m about to faint.

“And what is your name?” His eyes flick down to my chest.

“J-Jane, your Majesty.” My mouth is so dry, I can barely get the words out.

He reaches out a hand to stroke my cheek and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to flinch from his touch. He drops his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jane.” A lazy smile traces his lips as he looks me up and down.

There’s a delicate cough from behind him and, rolling his eyes, he moves to the next girl. When he gets to the end of the line, he walks over to Leora and whispers something in her ear. She nods and curtsies. The king leaves the room and the girls are dismissed. All apart from me.

Leora beckons me over to the window. Isolde hovers behind her.

“The king has requested that you go to him tonight,” Leora says stiffly. “He has specifically requested that you wear that dress.”

My heart sinks. Over Leora’s shoulder, I catch Isolde’s smug smile. Outside, the sky is turning golden, the sun beginning its journey down to the horizon. Tonight is not far away.

As I turn to leave, Leora presses something into my hand. She excuses herself and exits the room into the small sitting room we’d been in earlier, leaving Isolde to accompany me back to my room. She’s like a guard dog, unwilling to let me out of her sight. A maid places some food on the table and Isolde leaves, saying she will come to fetch me herself when it is time.

The door closes and locks behind her. I walk over to the small window and press my forehead against the cool glass. You knew what you were letting yourself in for that day in the village. You knew it would come to this. But that doesn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach. Anoushka’s swollen, bruised face jumps into my mind. Will he be like that, too?

I open my fingers to see what Leora had slipped me. A thin piece of paper wrapped around a vial of liquid.

I place the vial carefully on the bed and unroll the paper. Two lines are written in a tiny neat script.

Inside the vial is a dark blue liquid. There’s barely enough for a sip. Whatever it is, it must be strong. I sit on the bed staring at it. Isolde’s words come back to me. Is Leora really trying to help me or is she just looking out for herself? What if the liquid in the vial doesn’t just make me sick, but worse?

I put the vial and note to one side while I eat the light dinner of fish and vegetables. It barely touches the edges of my hollow stomach. Much longer on this diet and I’ll start wasting away.

Outside the window, the sun dips behind the castle walls. The fiery red sky is fading to black. It feels as if today has been the longest day of my life. I would give anything to be back home with my parents or exploring the forest with Rafe. If only there was some way out of this situation. But I have to banish these thoughts. They are a form of torture.

I was bound to end up in a man’s bed eventually. That’s what we’re here for, after all. If not tonight, then it will be tomorrow night. Or the night after that. Perhaps it is best just to get it over with. The first time must be the worst.

But facing my fears tonight seems so much more real than facing them tomorrow. Besides, who knows what tomorrow will bring? Perhaps I’ll have an opportunity to explore the palace more. Find a way of escaping.

I pull the stopper from the vial and lift it to my lips. Fear catches at my throat, but before I can think twice, I tip my head back and the blue liquid flows down my throat.

Moments later, my dinner empties itself from my stomach onto the floor.