Book 3: Unpretty Face

Candace

For the third morning in a row, I pull my covers over my head as lunch approaches and rub eyes gritty from crying.

Well, not exactly the third morning in a row. The very next day, I tried. I got up, made myself beautiful even as Ingrid fluttered around me, saying I didn’t have to go out if I didn’t want to. But I knew Estrella was exhausted, and there was no way Raven would be well enough to handle the ritual yet. I wouldn’t leave my sister-in-law by herself. Then, I stepped out of the tent—not even out of our cluster of tents, just my very own—and the whispers started.

Is it true?

Look at her brave face.

How sad.

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

And I decided that, if I’m not a princess, I don't owe the world a brave face. I didn’t have to make the worst day of my life into something pretty for them to coo over. I turned on my heel, marched back into the tent, and haven’t come out since. For three days, I’ve b