Luna no longer worried that her father might find her and hurt her again. She stopped flinching when the other girls hugged her, and then at thirteen she had her first crush and went on for weeks and weeks about how the boy who picked apples had brushed hands with her when he handed her an apple in the orchard one day.
While Bisma’s poisons—as well as the family she’d found in the Enchanted Forest—gave Luna that ease, it also meant that forevermore Bisma had to be on guard in town. Even more so as Baji now, when the Unwanted Girls were her responsibility.
As she passed through the village with Nori, Bisma’s body tensed, alert. She looked down at Nori, who was bouncing.
‘Behave,’ she ordered, her voice stern. ‘And hold onto the cart. Understood?’
‘Okie-dokie!’ Nori said, but she was already looking around, buzzing with excitement at the change of scenery.
They entered the town square, where Bisma did her business and everything they needed could be purchased. At the north end was the tavern, the Apothecary, the mayor’s office, and the inn. The west end held shops for shoes and fabric, along with a seamstress’s store; the south end was where the paint store and bookshop were, along with the potter’s and the blacksmith’s; and the eastern portion held the meat stores, the bakery, and the fruit and vegetable stands. The storefronts were all different colors, the names painted in different styles, though they were a bit old now, the paint chipped.
The town was overcrowded, as well. Whenever Bisma came, she was struck anew by just how manypeoplethere were. She was so used to her little family having free rein over the entire Forest, which of course they shared with the birds and animals and bees, but it was not nearly the same as dozens of people crammed into this one square, shopping and chatting and laughing. It was soloud.
As Bisma pushed her cart through the square, she felt uneasy. People nudged each other and pointed, staring at her and Nori. Bisma glared back at all of them.
In town, she always donned her most feral scowl, and her withering glare, and the hard set of her jaw, like a rabid animal prepared to pounce at any moment.
‘Don’t smile,’ Bisma ordered Nori, who was happily skipping.
The Unwanted Girls were disliked, and if they showed happiness, it only encouraged further bullying. The villagers were always keen to remind the girls to be miserable, so they put on the facade of unhappiness and the villagers stayed content, and more importantly stayed away.
As Bisma approached the shoe store, a woman grabbed her child and shoved her out of Bisma’s sight, as though Bisma was an evil force that children needed to be protected from.
Despite herself, Bisma’s heart twinged. They were strangers, but when they looked at her like she was evil, it only made her feel like an even worse person.
If she behaved like a monster and was treated like a monster, did that make her a monster?
It does not matter, she reminded herself. She did not need them. All Bisma could count on was the Unwanted Girls and the Enchanted Forest. They may be unwanted elsewhere, but they were wanted by each other.
It was better for the villagers to be afraid of her.
Then they would leave her alone.
3
After selling orders to her usual customers, then collecting new shoes for Mei, Bisma went to the bakery for those chocolate chip muffins the girls loved. At least Old Town wasn’t filled with all bad characters. The baker and her family were kind, good people.
Bisma waved at the baker and her husband, then at their son behind the counter, who donned an apron.
‘Hello!’ Haru said. He was a sweet-faced boy of fifteen with silky black hair; it was easy to see why he was the object of Luna’s daydreams.
He looked over Bisma’s shoulder, as if searching for someone.
Bisma lifted Nori up so she could wave at Haru. ‘I’m afraid she’s my only companion today,’ Bisma said, giving him a small smile. There was no one else in the bakery, so she did not have to worry about maintaining her surly attitude. ‘Eight muffins and a loaf of bread, please.’
He gathered her order, and she paid.
‘Please tell—’ He broke off, looking away. His ears tinged pink. ‘Tell your … sisters I send my regards.’
Bisma nodded, trying not to laugh at the poor boy. ‘I will.’
She stashed the goods on her cart and left the bakery, Nori beside her. Once outside, Bisma’s smile immediately faded. Sheglared at passersby, scanning the crowds before looking to Nori. ‘Ready to go home?’ she asked.
‘Aw, Baji!’ Nori pouted. ‘A little longer!’ She held onto the edge of Bisma’s dress, pulling. ‘Please, please, please!’
‘Tch, Nori,’ Bisma said, unable to say no.
She looked up and was promptly distracted by a familiar figure. As her heart rate spiked violently, and her glare hardened, Nori took the opportunity to skip back into the bakery to Haru. Though the figure was across the square, she would recognize that obnoxious face from any distance.
