The villagers escorted me to an open field beyond the village. They were restless and over-excited with anxiety over the dragon’s imminent arrival, crowding around me and all speaking at once so that the sounds of their voices merged into cacophony, the pitch and their unease causing my heart to pound and my ribs to feel constricting to my lungs.
“What happened with previous offerings?” I asked the woman who seemed to be in charge of me.
She had arrived an hour or so before with a white dress for me to wear, its hems brightly embroidered, and had braided my hair with ribbons to match. She had scrubbed my face and nails, pinched my cheeks, rubbed berries on my lips and declared me respectable before bringing me out of the inn, into the bright sunlight, where the rest of the village
