The pod door opens. Inside is a single spacious room. Everything is bright white and clean. A row of padded seats lines one wall and, behind them, a long window stretches the length of the room. Anoushka and I take two of the seats. The Swans move to the front of the pod where a pair of sofas are arranged around a low table.

The door to the pod clicks into place, and there’s a slight hum as the pod lifts off the ground. I twist in my seat to look out of the window, but a meaningful cough makes me turn back around to face the room.

“Jane,” Anoushka hisses at me, “what have—”

“Girls!” The auburn-haired Swan turns in her seat. “You must learn to choose when to speak and when to remain silent. And now is one of the times you should be silent.”

Anoushka flushes and sits up a little straighter. The movement of the pod is smooth and I long to look around to see how fast we’re travelling. One of the escorts brings over a tray of food and drink. I hesitate, then choose a glass full of a clear liquid that I’m hoping is water. I can’t stomach food at the moment. Anoushka reaches for one of the delicate little cakes, but there’s another cough, this time from Isolde, and the escort takes a step back.

“Not for her, I’m afraid,” Isolde says. “She’s going to have to go on a bit of a diet.”

I take a cautious sip from the glass in my hand. It’s not water, but a sweet fruit drink. It’s refreshing. I gulp down the rest of the glass.

The Swans confer in low voices and a few moments later, there’s a very slight bump as we land back on the ground. The auburn-head Swan stands and smiles at us. “I’m afraid you were first on our list today. It’s going to be a long day, but just sit here and stay quiet. The escorts have some reading material if you get bored.”

They leave the pod and immediately I turn around to look out of the window. I recognise the village. It’s about five miles from the farm and I’ve accompanied my mother to the market occasionally to sell surplus produce at the end of the season. There are four girls waiting to be chosen. Behind them, the crowd waits expectantly. The auburn-haired Swan begins to read aloud the same speech she gave to us.

I glance over at Anoushka and catch her eye. One of the guards is standing by the entrance to the pod, but there’s no one else about.

“What happened to you, Jane?” Anoushka whispers to me. “Your birthmark. It’s almost gone.”

I shrug. “I’m not sure. Honestly, it’s just happened in the last week or so.”

“Aren’t you excited?” Her face glows and her eyes are lit up with excitement. “I can’t believe I was chosen!”

I look away, not able to meet her gaze. “I guess I’m more nervous than anything. Do you know what’s going to happen when we arrive at the castle?”

“No,” she admits. “But I can’t wait to meet the men.” She gives a nervous giggle.

The guard walks over to stand before us and shakes his head. No talking then. He hands us each a small booklet with a picture of the city on the front cover.

Ten minutes later, the Swans return alone. None of the girls in this village passed their inspection.

The rest of the day passes slowly. Every few miles, we stop at another village and the Swans go out again to inspect the girls standing in line. There’s nothing for us to do inside the pod. I finish reading the booklet in the first hour. It’s not very informative. Just a bit of history about the city. I learned more at school.

By the time we leave the final village, four girls have joined us in the pod. I’m desperate to get a view of the journey back to the city, but the Swans seem to have eyes in the back of their heads as every time I go to peek, one of them glares at me.

The sun is low in the sky as the pod comes to rest inside the palace grounds. We’re led out into a large courtyard full of greenery and flowers. To one side is the ancient castle, its crumbling stone walls now overshadowed by the taller, more modern parts of the palace. Stone paths lined by lemon trees wind between colourful flower beds. Outside the city, plants are dying off at the end of summer, but in here, it feels like spring again. But something about it feels fake. The plants look real, but there is no smell of damp earth or rotting leaves. It’s all too neat and perfect.

At the arched entrance to the building, we’re told to take off our shoes. I unlace my muddy boots and take them off, embarrassed to reveal my holey socks underneath. The boots are whisked from under my nose by one of the escorts.

“Hey!” I try and grab them back.

“Jane!”

I freeze at Isolde’s sharp tone.

“You won’t be needing your boots anymore. We have new clothes and shoes waiting for you.”

Reluctantly, I fall back into line. My feet sink into a thick pile rug, so different from the thin worn carpet at home. The thought brings tears to my eyes. What would I give to be back there.

We walk along a long corridor lined with windows that look out onto the courtyard, and up a flight of stairs. The decor is elegant and modern. Brightly-coloured paintings add a splash of colour to the off-white walls, warmed by lamps that emit a soft yellow glow. Finally, the auburn-haired Swan stops and turns around to face us.

“This is where you’ll be living, girls. You each have your own room in the palace. As it’s late, I’ve asked for food and drink to be brought up for you. You must all be tired. Someone will come and get you in the morning.”

We set off down the corridor. At intervals, the woman pauses and reads out a name. Each girl is shown into her room. Finally, it’s my turn.

“Sleep well, Jane”. The Swan smiles tiredly at me.

I step into the room and close the door behind me, grateful for the opportunity to be alone. Despite the fact that I spent most of the day sitting down, I’m exhausted. The room is simple but elegantly furnished. A narrow bed with a thick, deep-red cover sits against one long wall, a dressing table against the other. At the far end, a small window looks out over another courtyard. There’s a high-backed armchair and a small table on which is set a tray with a covered plate, a glass and a small bottle of what looks to be wine. My mouth waters at the smell coming from underneath the silver dome.

I devour the dish of protein and vegetables hungrily. The food is good — really good. I’m more cautious with the wine. I blame the little I had last night for my fuzzy head this morning. Once I’ve eaten, I explore the rest of the small room. A wardrobe is set into one wall, almost invisible unless you know where to look. Another door leads to what must be a bathroom, but I haven’t got the faintest idea how to use the cubicle that’s covered with buttons and dials. The toilet’s obvious enough though, and I even figure out how to flush it. Washing will have to wait until the morning.

Crawling into bed, I wonder how I’m supposed to turn off the lights, or if they expect us to sleep with them on. But a few minutes after I get into bed, the light dims and then goes out completely.

As my mind drifts towards sleep, a faint click pulls me back awake. Curious, I walk over and try the door. It doesn’t move.

I’m locked in.

* * *

The next morning, I wake early as the first rays of light shine in through the window. Back at the farm, I’d be straight up and out of bed, ready for work, but here I have nothing to do so I lie, staring at the ceiling and wondering what today will bring.

After perhaps an hour, there’s a commotion in the corridor. The sound of voices and people walking back and forth. I test the door, but it’s still locked. A few minutes later, the door clicks open and Isolde enters, followed by a young girl dressed in a maid’s uniform who carries a tray of food.

Without preamble, Isolde walks over to me and tilts my face to the light, inspecting my cheek. She frowns, the slight lines on her forehead the only flaw on her perfectly smooth, white skin.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to keep you in here until your birthmark fades completely, Jane,” she says. “You’ll be brought all your meals and I’ll have the servants bring you a VR unit so you can get ahead on your learning programme.”

Learning programme?

I look around the small room. More than a day in here and I’ll start to go mad. “How long do you think it will take?”

Isolde shrugs. A faint smile plays on her lips. “Who knows? But patience is a virtue that it’s wise to develop around here.”

She leaves the room and the maid places the tray on the small table, picking up the dirty dishes from last night’s meal. “Is there anything else you’ll be needing, Ms Anas?”

“Who is Isolde? I mean, I know she’s a Swan, but is there a ranking system or something?”

The maid looks cautiously around and lowers her voice. “She is one of the more senior Swans, yes, miss. She was Head Swan for a time before Leora took over.”

Before she leaves, I ask her to show me how the cubicle in the bathroom works. She looks surprised at the request but explains some of the buttons and dials. She wears a thin band on her wrist which she presses against the door to unlock it.

Breakfast is fruit, bread and a small piece of goat’s cheese. I eat and then strip off my clothes and step into the shower cubicle. Except it’s not a proper shower. There’s no water for a start. Just a blast of hot air that sucks at my skin and makes my hair float up as if electrified. This is followed by a soft, sweet-smelling haze. Then the cubicle door opens again. Apparently, I’m clean. I sniff my arm experimentally. Well, I smell clean, at least.

By the time lunch arrives, I’m thoroughly bored and fed up of being trapped in the small room. I’ve paced the length of it a hundred times, stretched out my aching back and even done a few exercises to pass the time. It’s a prison. A beautifully decorated prison with good food, but a prison all the same.

With the food, the maid brings a VR headset and I breathe a sigh of relief. At last, something to relieve the boredom. But the headset isn’t connected to the main Interweb system as I’d hoped. It just has a series of tutorials, which all take place in the same virtual room. In the first one, a beautifully dressed woman in her forties listens to me talk. She frequently corrects my accent and pronunciation of certain words. Apparently, my vocabulary is poor. I’m given a list of unfamiliar terms to memorise and told to work on softening my Rs.

Other tutorials cover how to walk with perfect posture, how to speak to men and when to laugh at their jokes, and how to eat and drink in an appropriate manner. In the tutorial entitled “seduction techniques”, I find myself trying to contort my body into awkward positions while the tutor shouts at me to be more natural. “Just place your arm delicately on his.” She demonstrates on the virtual man who obliges by giving her a warm smile.

I roll my eyes and try again.

There is one tutorial that I can’t bring myself to access. It’s titled “what to do in the bedroom”. I think back to what my mother had said about the Swans and wonder exactly what is expected of us in this department. It’s not something I want to face right now.

I think of Rafe. Quiet, kind Rafe. With him, I can just be myself. Whereas here, it seems I am to become someone else.