Page 114 of Barbi and the Villain

“Please explain,” I persist.

“This is my cue to leave,” he mutters under his breath, disappearing into the crowd.

I stare after him, flabbergasted. What the hell?

The music suddenly stops and the mood shifts. The men gather to the left, while the women are on the right. Those participating in the contest are forming a line and I spot Nykander in the men’s section.

Our eyes connect, his gaze harsh and unyielding.

He stares me down, almost as if he wanted to communicate something with his gaze.

Maybe he’s pissed—not that he wouldn’t have reason. I may or may not have stabbed my hand daily so he can feel the pain too. Petty? Yes. Painful? Another yes, but worth it.

I walk to the right, joining the line of girls at the end. I might not know what this competition entails, but I would love to win just to see Nykander’s shocked expression at the fact that this silly little girl could achieve something by herself, without his help. Even more so when I tell him in front of everyone that he is the last man I would have by my side.

My mind is made and I push my chin up, wearing my confidence like I’m wearing this pretty dress—as if it were made for me.

But despite my bravado, awareness pricks at my back, and without even looking back, I know he is staring at me. Or, rather, he is staring a hole through me.

There are ten women in my line and an equal number of men in the line parallel to us.

The bonfire illuminates a circle around where the other villagers take their positions as spectators, their beady eyes following everything closely.

“The Moon Festival will commence shortly,” Elijah appears in the middle of the crowd. “Each side will be allowed to vote after every trial. The male side will decide which females remain in the contest and vice versa until we have narrowed down our winners. There will be a total of four trials.”

The villagers clap. Murmurs and whispers abound at this change of rules, but it seems it is rather well received.

“The first trial will test skill. The other three will test the senses.”

Another round of applause. These people are very eager to see the competition unfold.

“Before I ring the bell for the beginning of the first trial, let us welcome our participants. Females, please state your names.”

One by one, the women introduce themselves with a pretty smile, surreptitiously glancing at the male side and batting their lashes. Since everyone is introducing themselves with their full name, when it is my turn, I step forward and state monotonely, “Barbara Bancroft.”

A low hum reverberates through the crowd, as well as some less than happy people voicing their displeasure at the fact that I am not smiling or preening around like I should.

I glare at them.

The boos intensify.

Well, I don’t think I will be winning any popularity contests.

Alas, I am not in this game because I want to win. I only want to spite that wretched Dark One, maybe even sabotage him a little on the way. God knows he needs someone to take him down a peg.

I step back in the line. It’s the men’s turn now.

A few of the village men are first, introducing themselves and rolling their shoulders to emphasize their muscles.

I blink.

There is something very specific about these introductions and I feel as though I am not in on the joke.

Nykander’s turn comes. His eyes are on me as he steps forward. His hands are behind his back, his back straight as he gazes around as if everyone is beneath him. He has an air of superiority that aggravates me even more. Especially as I note the subtle smirk pulling at his lips.

“Nykander v’Kyró.”

My eyes flash.

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