Fated To Die: YA dark retelling (The Retelling Series Book 1)

by TARA GALLINA

  A smug grin curls his lips. “Maybe I’m curious. Maybe I’ve always found you irresistible. I can have any maiden in the village. Why shouldn’t I have you, as well. In secret, of course. My friends could never know. Not only to avoid the risk of being caught, but to avoid their judgement. And they would judge me. Some would even begrudge me. As an Elite, I’m expected to marry a proper bride, and I will once I’ve secured my future. If I’m to maintain my Elite lifestyle after I’m wed, I need to prove myself to my father. A sheep farm would be a profitable addition to the family businesses. Your father has the best land, even if it is on the outskirts of town. His sheep were once plentiful with their milk and wool. I wager I could get them back to that status again once your father agrees to sell me his land.”

  I gasp and sit up, sliding away from him. “He would never agree to that.”

  “No? Not even after I’ve saved his daughter from doom?”

  “You’re sick.”

  He crawls toward me, stopping by my legs. “Don’t worry. I’ll also make you a deal you can’t refuse. Once you’ve had me, you’ll want more. They always do, and I’d be inclined to take you on as my mistress if you pleased me in return. Every married Elite has one, and you’ll owe me too for saving your life.” He grabs my knees and jerks me underneath him, covering me with the full weight of his body. His hand slides under my long skirt.

  The air rushes from my lungs. My fingers curl into a tight ball. I slam my fist into his eye before I realize what I’m doing.

  Espen reels back onto his heels and covers his reddening eye. “You little witch!”

  I scramble backward and get to my feet, my chest heaving with my frantic breaths. “Don’t ever touch me like that again!” I shout. “I will never be your mistress. And my father will never sell you our land. I will make sure of it.”

  His nostrils flare, and he looks ready to charge me.

  Daisy neighs and kicks in her stall.

  Espen glances from me to my flustered horse. As if she senses his gaze, she kicks the wall again. The wood panels rattle and hay from the rafters sprinkle down.

  “You’ll regret this,” Espen snarls. He snatches his vest and coat from a hook on one of the stalls, his other hand still covering his eye.

  “Wait.” I jump toward him, not bothering to shake out the crumpled material of my long skirt.

  He pauses, and his good eye narrows into a dark slit. “If you want me to stay, you’ll have to get on your knees and beg me to take you.”

  Slimy pig. I lay out my hand again. “I’ll take the bag my father gave you in payment.”

  He laughs and pats his jacket pocket. “Consider it a parting gift for wasting my time.”

  I back up until I’m in front of Daisy’s stall. She bucks her head and puffs her breath as if eager to trample him. That’s my girl.

  I grab the latch. “Then you won’t mind if I let my horse see you out.”

  He scowls and throws the satchel at my feet. “Before I sleep tonight, I will pray a thousand times over that you are chosen as Messenger tomorrow. Then you’ll wish you had submitted to me.”

  Fear shudders under my skin, and I force words of warning through my clattering teeth. “Remember, should you tell anyone about this arrangement, you will be punished along with us.” I can’t risk my family being imprisoned in retaliation.

  Espen’s jaw tightens, his gaze filled with rage. “As I said, I do not nor will I ever degrade myself by speaking about you to anyone. You are nothing more than a moment of weakness. A pebble in my boot, which I have expelled. I will forget you the moment I walk out of this barn, and after your nightmare week with the Hag in the woods, you’ll be forgotten by everyone. Just another lost maiden whose name no one cares to remember.”

  I seize Daisy’s brush from the stool and hurl it at him.

  He jerks to the side a second before taking the hit to the face.

  “Get out!” I shout.

  Daisy rams the stall door, urging me to set her free, but Espen is halfway across the barn. He disappears into the night without glancing back.

  Too shaken to move, I inhale deeply and try to calm my nerves. I hate him. I hate the curse. And most of all, I hate myself for agreeing to do this.

  No one knows who will be chosen tomorrow. Perhaps, my unpopularity with the villagers will be the same with the curse. Why would I be chosen now when I’ve never been selected for anything in my life. Not to join picnics or social gatherings. Not to attend dances or the Eligible Maidens Ball where brides are chosen. I am now and will forever be discarded.

  I seize the bag from the ground and make sure all our coins are there. A shiny object catches my eye. I remove it from the bag and gasp.

  Mother’s butterfly brooch! She gave it to me on the day she died. Why would father take it, and why would he give it to Espen of all people?

  Don’t I know? Money. Espen bargained for more and Father gave him the only thing of value we have left.

  I run a finger over the blue and green gemstones on the wings, then cup the brooch to my heart. Silent tears slide down my cheeks. I miss her. I miss the way she hummed when she tended to the gardens. I miss the way Father lit up when she smiled at him, and the way she would gaze at him when they danced together by the pianoforte.

  So much has changed. If I am chosen tomorrow, life will change again for me and for my family.

  Espen was right about one thing. Once a maiden is claimed as Messenger, she never returns home. Her name is forgotten, and she becomes one of a century of maidens sacrificed to the curse.

  If only the claims that a Messenger can earn her freedom on the seventh day were true.

  Daisy nuzzles my cheek in a soothing way. “Thank you for having my back.” I rub her long neck. “Do you want a treat? You certainly earned one.”

  I feed her a carrot from the bucket I keep by her stall.

  The door to the barn slams with a loud bang. I squeal and stiffen.

  My thoughts go to the worst place. It’s the Council. Espen told on us, and they’re here to lock my family in the castle dungeons until our death.

  Legs shaking, I creep toward the barn door. It’s hinges creak as it sways with the wind. I nudge it open and peer outside. Crickets stir in the nearby woods. The leaves rustle in the trees. The grounds are too dark to see anyone walking around, not unless they carried a light.

  I slow my racing breath and listen for footsteps. Other than nature, nothing stirs.

  Can I trust my senses? Do I have a choice? Tomorrow will end in one of three ways.

  The Council arrests us all.

  I am chosen as Messenger.

  I return home, spared by the curse, and life remains the same.

  Please let the last be my fate.

  CHAPTER 2

  I’ve just fallen asleep—at least that’s what it feels like—when the door to my bedroom flies open. Quick feet patter across the floor. I squint in their direction.

  Wearing matching sage dresses, a large bow peeking out from the back of each, my sisters don’t slow down when they approach the bed.

  “Did you see it, Preya?” Carys asks, her blonde curls bouncing over her shoulder as she hops onto the mattress. “Did you see the sun flash brighter?”

  “Of course, she did.” Calyssa jumps on the other side of the bed, the two of them caging me in. “Everyone saw it. It was like the sun burst in the sky.” She turns her wide gaze to the window.

  Like always, they sit across from the eye color of mine that matches theirs. Calyssa is on my left, her sapphire eyes matching the shade of that iris, while Carys sits on my right, her shamrock eyes identical to the color of that eye.

  “The sun flashed already?” I push pale tendrils from my face. They must be mistaken. That occurs only when the sun is the highest in the sky to mark the Summer Solstice.

  “That’s what we just said.” Calyssa rolls her eyes. “Why do you think we’re in here? We waited for you to come out. You never did, so Father told us to wake you.”


  “What time is it?” I try not to look too worried as I rub the sleep from my eyes.

  “It’s an hour before the ceremony,” Carys says and Calyssa adds, “If you don’t hurry, you’re going to be late.”

  I wrench my head off the pillow.

  The twins giggle and point to my hair. “That’s what happens when you take a bath at night,” Calyssa says.

  “We heard you.” Carys’s mouth twists with embarrassment.

  “Do you have to be clean?” Calyssa follows me as I climb out of the bed and stumble to the mirror.

  My hair looks like a stack of bleached hay. “Oh, my.” I grab a brush from the vanity and try taming the long strands. The soft curls that usually form at the end of my hair are frizzy and wild like I was out riding my horse all day.

  “Is that why you took a bath last night?” Calyssa stops by my side.

  “I took a bath to be clean.” Clean of Espen. Even though we barely touched and kissed only once, I wanted to wash away the disgust I felt from our encounter.

  I give up on taming my hair and tie it back in a braid with a few strands hanging around my face. It will have to do.

  “Father told us.” Carys stands by the foot of the bed, her cheeks bright pink.

  “Told you what?” I head to the bathroom leaving the door open as I wash my face with cold water. I can’t believe I slept so late.

  When I enter the bedroom, Calyssa and Carys are standing by the large armoire, the white dress I’m to wear for the ceremony hanging on one of the open doors.

  “The tale,” Carys answers.

  “Which one?” I ask. Father tells so many. Some stories he makes up, and others are tales from his collection of books in the den. It’d be impossible for me to know which one she means.

  Calyssa pinches the sheer overlay of the full skirt, lifting it as she asks, “The most important one, about the curse and the Choosing Ceremony. He said not to worry and that you won’t be chosen. Does that mean you are not a virgin?”

  I stop mid-step, halfway across the room. “He told you....” My throat closes before I can finish the sentence. Two nights ago, Father was supposed to tell them the tale about the Washer Woman, but when he walked in on them playing dolls in their pink and yellow room, ruffles and bows everywhere, he couldn’t do it.

  Despite that I’d been seven when I learned the tale, the appropriate age according to the Council, he wasn’t ready to steal their innocence. Recalling how Mother shared the same fears when telling me the truth about the curse, I didn’t push him.

  Apparently, he got over it last night and told the girls anyway.

  “How do you become not a virgin?” Calyssa presses.

  This is not a conversation I have time for. “I’ll explain it to you later. For now, I need to get ready.” I take the dress from the armoire.

  “We could help you.” Carys tilts her head with the sweetest smile on her face.

  I touch her cheek. “Thank you, but I need this time for myself.”

  “Are you scared?” Calyssa steps in front of me when I turn to walk away. “Father says you have nothing to be afraid of.”

  I almost trample her and stumble to the side. “I know,” I snap and regret it at once. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m mad at myself for sleeping in and I’m so thankful to you both for waking me. Now be good girls and tell Father I’ll be ready to leave shortly.” I tap the tips of their noses.

  Carys beams but Calyssa has an uncertain look on her face.

  “Go on.” I shoo them out.

  With a pout, Calyssa does as instructed, Carys at her side. Their dresses bell with their steps as they leave the room.

  I exhale a sigh of relief and close the door so I can change. The material of the dress is light and wispy with pink flowers around the bust, the puffed short sleeves, and the high waist. Mother had sewn on each flower by hand. Would she have approved of me being with Espen last night? Mother wasn’t one for following the rules, but could she have agreed to something that could punish the entire family if caught?

  I take Mother’s brooch from the drawer where I hid it last night. For luck, I kiss the jeweled wings and slip it into a hidden pocket on the dress.

  Father is waiting for me at the front door. He watches as I descend the curving staircase. “Beautiful, just like your mother.” Pride lights up his blue eyes, and I’m struck with a wave of guilt.

  “Thank you.” I manage a smile and take his elbow, praying he doesn’t notice the slight tremble in my hand.

  His brows lower. “Don’t look so nervous, dear one. Everything has worked out as planned. If our secret weren’t safe, the Council guards would have come for us by now. All is well.” He kisses my cheek. “Now let’s get this over with so we can return home and carry on with our lives.”

  I nod, but my muscles remain clenched. Please let Father be right. I send a prayer to the Blessed Ones as we step outside. The full moon sits low on the horizon, a silver globe against the purple twilight sky.

  Father and I take the carriage into town. We have only one left. Like the manor, it’s worn and in need of repair, but business hasn’t been the same since Mother died. The whispers in town say Father has lost his touch with the sheep. He’s lost his touch with most things, having more sad days than happy. Although, today he seems different. Stronger and more alive as if a weight has lifted from him.

  Outside the window, a field of long grass and wildflowers sway in the breeze. Lush woods wrap the land in rich shades of green. The ivory town and castle stand out like a pearl in an emerald sea, with Mount Loras in the background. The snow-capped peak meets rocks and rubble. Halfway down the forest covers the steep sides.

  The river runs from the mountain, beyond the barrier. Its flowing water wraps around the village like a moat, and then curves back into the woods. The Washer Woman is in there, rising from the depths of the river, waiting to choose her Messenger.

  My skin chills. The carriage stops near the entry of town. With shaky steps, I climb out and cross the bridge with Father. He pats my hand on the crook of his arm, oblivious to my deceit and the fate that could await us. I should have mated with Espen, then I’d be calm like Father.

  White cottages sit shoulder to shoulder along cobblestone streets. They lead to the fountain in the town square. No one is out sweeping front door steps or watering potted plants. They stay behind locked doors and shutters, hoping the curse won’t reach them.

  The grand fountain looms ahead. Four tiers of white stone with Queen Alys standing at the top. Her cold expression earned her the nickname Stone Beauty, which has been passed down to me for how I ignore the snide remarks of villagers in town.

  “They don’t fear you,” Mother once told me. “They fear what is different from what they know.”

  They are like sheep flocking together, looking the same, acting the same, doing the same things every year. Upholding the same restrictive traditions.

  Muffled chatter mixes with the sound of trickling water as we approach the fountain. Father and I join ten or so virgin maidens gathered around the large stone base. Each girl looks as white as her dress. Some clasp their fingers in front of them, others cling to their parents’ arms.

  The bell tolls from the castle tower, the haunting sound marking the setting of the sun. Sweat beads above my lip, and I tremble. One of these girls will be torn from their family tonight.

  “Go on then.” Father nods toward the podium where Mr. Dunn, the head Councilman, stands. “I need to join the other fathers and appear to be as terrified as they look.” He kisses my cheek. “Relax, dear one. It will all be over soon.”

  I almost grab his hand when he backs away. He probably thinks I’m acting nervous so no one suspects my betrayal, which makes me feel even worse. I should have told him that I didn’t mate with Espen, instead of leaving him in the dark.

  Maybe it will all be fine, and my worrying is for nothing.

  I force my feet to move. With each step, fear presses on
me, stealing my breath. I approach the girls flocked together like sheep in a pen. They stand in the center of the street. The cobblestone path leads to the bridge at the end of town where it crosses the river to the woods.

  “Take your places,” Mr. Dunn calls out from the wooden platform.

  No one is allowed past this point, except for us.

  “Today we witness the offering to the Washer Woman. One maiden pure and brave will sacrifice herself for the good of the village. Our prayers and blessings go with her. May she obey the demands placed upon her and earn her freedom on the seventh day. Our strength lies in our ability to submit to the curse, and to the rules laid out by the Council to keep us safe.” He lifts his arms and face to the sky. “Blessed Ones, hear our plea for a small reaping this week. Bring peace to our hearts as we stand beside loved ones who are Fated to Die, unable to help them. Shower us with your love and understanding so that we can move forward come the seventh day and reclaim our lives as we see fit.”

  He lowers his head and peers down at us with sad eyes. “You may begin your journey.”

  Reluctantly, I migrate down the street along with the other virgin maidens. Silence fills the air as if everyone has gone home.

  I look through the girls straggling behind me to the crowd. My gaze locks with my father’s as he stands amidst weeping parents. He smiles and gives a reassuring nod. Before I can respond, I crash into the girl in front of me.

  I swing back around. “Sorry. So sorry.”

  “My shoe.” The red-haired girl stares at her satin slipper on the cobblestone street.

  “Here.” I scoop it from the ground and place it down in front of her so she can easily slide in her foot.

  “Th-Thank you,” she says through several quivers.

  “Are you all right?” I ask, noting the green tint to her skin. I’ve seen her only a few times. Like me and the other girls here, we are still virgins because we’re considered unfit to marry in some way. Tulia has a large scar down the side of her face from a burn when she was a child.

  “I can’t stop sh-sh-shaking,” she stutters, “and I feel like I might throw up.”