The mood in the house was lively, almost giddy, like we were children preparing for a festival. The room buzzed with the sound of female voices, punctuated every few minutes by laughter. None of us were old enough to remember the last ceremony, but a few mothers, including mine, were there to supervise and tell stories while we fasted and bathed ourselves in fresh water that ought to have been saved for drinking. Zadie and I rubbed perfumed oil into each other’s skin and braided our hair into intricate patterns, then unraveled them and started all over again to occupy the long hours.

I glanced around at the other girls, most of them friendly acquaintances. In a village as small and isolated as ours, there were no unfamiliar faces, though our overprotective mother had done her best to keep us away from the other girls our age. At night, she would often tell us stories of sabotage among young women old enough to participate in the ceremony: braids cut off in the middle of the night, stinging sea nettles rubbed on healthy skin, even hot oil burns.

Boys may be physically stronger, Mother always said, but girls could be twice as vicious. I had never seen any behavior to support her claim, but then, I hadn’t spent enough time with the other girls to argue. With Zadie and Sami around, I was never lonely, but I would have liked the opportunity to make more friends.

As the sun extinguished itself on the horizon, anxiety and tension began to mount. The favorites, Zadie and Alys, sat surrounded by friends, who heaped praise on their girl while whispering insults about the opposition.

“Perhaps if Alys had never opened her mouth for the past seventeen years, this would be a fair match,” a blond girl named Minika murmured. “But unfortunately for her, she’s as gabby as a gull.”

I cast an apologetic glance toward Alys, who in truth had only one slightly crooked tooth. Her mother had attempted to straighten it with fishing line made of horse hair, but the results had been minimal at best. Still, with her auburn hair and green eyes, Alys was undeniably beautiful. As was Ginia, with her bronze skin and tight black curls, and Lunella, whose large blue eyes and delicate features were the pride of her entire family. How the elders could possibly choose between them was beyond my comprehension, like trying to choose the most beautiful seashell.

Zadie gave Minika an admonishing look as she wove my hair into what I hoped was the final braid. My scalp itched and burned from her handiwork. “Enough, girls. Alys is a friend, and perfect just as she is. And if she is chosen to go to Ilara, I will pray for Thalos to carry her safely to shore, as will the rest of you.”

“You are too kind,” Lunella said. “As soft and pliant as a cuttlefish. The prince will have you for his supper if you don’t watch out.”

Zadie blushed and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“What do you think the prince is like?” I asked no one in particular, hoping to divert some of the attention away from my sister. “We know so little about the Ilareans, though they seem to know everything about us.”

“Like how beautiful our women are,” Minika replied.

Mother sat in the center of the room on one of the colorful cushions that covered the floor from wall to wall. The house was barely large enough to contain thirty girls and women, not to mention all their cosmetics and clothing. “It’s more than that,” she said, “as you all know.”

We all did know. Our history was woven into our childhoods like sea silk threads, so fine it was hard to tell where one stopped and another started. But we all settled in now, turning toward Mother as she began to tell the story. It seemed fitting to hear this tale, tonight of all nights, the night before my world would be changed forever.

“Many years ago, in a queendom whose name has been lost to time, there lived a wise and powerful queen. She gave birth to a daughter, whom she named Ilara, after the celestial goddess. Ilara’s smile was as radiant as the moon, her hair as dark and shimmering as the night sky. It was said that her laughter made the stars shine brighter. Beloved by her people, she loved them all in return.

“One summer, when the princess was just sixteen, she journeyed to the shore with her family. She went to lavish parties and met many handsome young men, but none so handsome as Prince Laef, whose own land, Kuven, was far across the Alathian Sea. After weeks of secret meetings and stolen kisses, he asked her to marry him, and she happily accepted.

“But despite their mutual affection, Ilara’s mother forbade the marriage. Kuven was a small and weak kingdom compared to the queen’s, which at the time spanned the width and breadth of an entire continent, and Laef’s father was a cruel ruler, who took much from the sea but gave nothing in return. Ilara’s mother had planned a far more advantageous match with a prince from a powerful kingdom to the east, though that prince was said to be old and not particularly charming. As much as she loved her daughter, the queen could not afford to let her put the queendom in jeopardy.”

Several girls groaned in disapproval.

Mother frowned. “I don’t need to remind any of you of the importance of duty, do I?” She looked directly at Zadie as she said this, though no one understood the weight of her responsibility more than my sister. Zadie nodded solemnly while I barely managed to keep my eyes from rolling.

“Ilara and Laef returned to their homes, but the night before her wedding, they each gathered their most loyal servants and stole ships from their parents. He was an inexperienced sailor and she had never been at sea, but they loved each other too much to be parted. The next evening, their ships met in the middle of the Alathian Sea. For several days, they stayed on Laef’s ship, there in the ocean, delighting in each other. They were married on the seventh day, with a plan to return to Kuven. Laef’s father approved of the marriage, for he was certain Ilara’s mother would have to agree to an alliance that would be greatly beneficial to his kingdom.

“As the sun rose on the day they were set to depart, Ilara’s laugh danced over the waves like a skipping stone, and the prince took her in his arms to kiss her. The lovers had no idea that Thalos, the sea god, had been watching them. He saw that these two would bring happiness beyond measure to Laef’s father, a happiness he did not deserve. As a punishment for never giving the sea what it was owed, Thalos vowed to take the one thing that meant the most to Laef—Ilara.”

A shiver ran over my sore scalp, and I pressed closer to Zadie.

“Thalos summoned giant waves that tossed the ships about like driftwood. The lovers clung to each other, vowing to die together, if that was what it came to. But Thalos himself rode the crest of a wave taller than the ship’s mast, and he tore the princess from Laef’s arms, dragging her into the deep in his deadly embrace.”

We all looked at the governor’s house through a large bay window, where the figurehead of Ilara’s lost ship rose from the prow that formed Governor Kristos’s roof. She was a maiden carved from wood, her paint long since worn away by the wind and sea, a single hand raised above her head as though she were reaching for her lover’s grasp.