Nobody ever comes to Adaymos.

One day, several years ago, there was a dispute between two fruit sellers in the marketplace that turned violent. The King was supposed to send his officials to Adaymos to sort it out.

Nobody knows how he found out, but one day there were fliers stapled all throughout the village that announced their impending arrival. Just like the other fliers in the village, we still don't know how they got there. Everyone in Adaymos spent the week preparing the village for their arrival, trying to clean up the violent messes the disputing villagers left in their wake.

But the officials never came.

The night before they were set to arrive, both villagers went missing. Nobody knew where they went, when they'd left, or if they were even alive – but with no dispute to settle, the officials had no need to come to Adaymos. And somehow, they must've known because they never turned up.

I wake early the next morning, the sight of Alyx's mangled body flickering against my eyelids. Patting my hair down and changing into a light blue dress, I slip into the kitchen, the bottoms of my feet cold against the wooden floor. Imelda is seated at the table with Papa, excitement brimming beneath her eyes and fingertips tapping against her cup. Something is different.

"Did you hear the news, Alera?" Imelda is almost bouncing in her seat.

I furrow my brows and look towards Papa. He simply rolls his eyes and takes a sip from his cup.

"About Alyx?" I take a cup from the table and fill it with water from the bucket on the wooden bench.

"No." Her eyes shimmer like moonlight reflecting on water. "There's a visitor in the village, someone from the Palace."

Surprise flickers in my chest but it is quickly overpowered by irritation. "You're excited over a visitor coming?" I spin around to frown at her. "Imelda, need I remind you that Alyx died last night – you know, the kid you went to school with?"

After Alyx's body was discovered, the men were sent out to retrieve him and return his body to his family. They've yet to set a date to his memorial service, but the weight that hangs over the village can't go ignored, making it difficult to breathe. Nobody had been killed in years – and never in that way.

And still, nobody knows why Alyx was in the forest.

"He arrived early this morning. I think he's here to investigate Alyx's death." Her tone is less excited and guilt flashes in her eyes.

Realisation settles my stomach. Imelda is 22. She wants to get married, and according to the standards of Adaymos, she should have been married two years ago. She does currently have a suitor – Ethii Toledano, a man whose ego is bigger than he is. And despite the fact that she should be pining over Ethii, she's always dreamed of something bigger. This man from the Palace is her chance.

I'm not complaining. On the list of people I find it hard to tolerate, Ethii Toledano is at the top.

"From the Palace?" I bite the inside of my cheek. I have never seen anybody from the Palace, let alone anyone from outside of Adaymos. "Why? Can't we settle this ourselves?"

Papa sets his cup down on the table. "It doesn't matter. He is from the Palace, we must be respectful and keep ourselves in check." He shoots a look at Imelda and her cheeks turn scarlet.

"Of course, Papa," Imelda sighs and stands up to tip the remains of her cup down the drain. "We must be off now. The children's home is expecting me, and Alera will gather some more stones for your designs."

Imelda hooks an arm through mine and tugs me towards the front door over the cobblestones. Arm in arm, we go down the steps and through the village, the warmth of the morning sun spreading across my chest.

For the past two years, Imelda has volunteered at the Children's Home. She helps them serve food, but she is mainly there to tell the children stories. They tell the stories every child in Adaymos is told – the stories of the beasts in the forests.

I always listened half-heartedly, having thought that the stories were merely told to scare us from venturing into the forest and leaving Adaymos, but after last night, I can't help but find myself believing them.

Unfortunately for me, I get the less desirable task of going around the village and filling my father's bucket with stones that he can use to paint his designs on and then sell in the markets. We're not a wealthy family, but we get by.

Walking through the village is perplexing. The heavy mood of last night has lifted, excitement buzzing in its place. It makes my stomach churn considering everyone should be mourning the death of Alyx. Instead, they are whispering in the shadows and giggling behind cabins at the idea of a man from the palace. The market place is rather empty when we reach it, as if the entire village has congregated elsewhere.

"Alera! Imelda!"

It's Kenna, coming from the market. The deep green dress she wears brushes along the dirty ground as she rushes towards us and past the abandoned market stalls. Elizabeth, Amelia and Krysta trail after her, all wide-eyed and pink-faced.

"Girls!" Imelda scowls when they reach us. She reaches up to pat Kenna's dark hair down and then scans the rest of the girls. "What is the matter with you three? You're running through the village like little boys."

Kenna blushes but Elizabeth rises on her the balls of her feet and grins widely. "Have you heard the news about the visitor?"

"Yes." Imelda's back straightens and her concern falls away. "Have you seen him?"

"No, he's in the courtyard with old man Jo," Amelia explains, her short blonde hair bobbing on her shoulders. "Everyone is trying to get a look at him."

Imelda's grip on my arm tightens as she pulls me forward through the market, running the same way she just scolded Kenna and the three girls for doing. When we reach the courtyard, she releases my arm. There is a large crowd gathered in the small clearing, all peering over heads to catch a glimpse of the man standing in the middle.

Imelda pushes through the crowd with her elbows and the 5 of us trail behind. Due to her height, people move out of her path when she comes through, shooting narrowed eyes her way. But that doesn't deter Imelda.

Old man Jo stands in the clearing with his back to the crowd and speaking with a man opposite him. I try to catch my breath as I stand on my toes to catch a glimpse of him, biting on my bottom lip when I do. The man is unlike any I've ever seen before.

The men in Adaymos are all relatively similar from the blonde hair and blue eyes we all share, but one look at this man will tell you he is an outsider.

Everything about him is new and exciting. From his clothes to his skin, to his hair. Though he is being ogled at by nearly half the village, he leans against the stone wall of the well lazily with his arms hanging by his sides. It's hard to miss the confidence in the way he stands.

Old man Jo is a small man, and he seems to only get smaller as he ages. But even so, it is hard to miss the height of which the visitor stands, towering over old man Jo despite his slumped posture. Imelda's hand grips mine excitedly – he seems to be ticking all of her boxes.

"Well, Mr Marule," old man Jo says as he pats the man on the back. "Welcome to Adaymos, your presence is well known throughout the village – as you can tell."

The man looks over old man Jo's shoulder, pushing off the well to stand straight. His eyes scan the crowd lazily; they're an enchanting dark colour I've never seen. Paired with dark, wavy hair that reaches the sharp angle of his jawline, he is very clearly an outsider.

Perhaps the most striking thing about him is the dark and blemish free skin. It's mesmerising and beautiful – like the silky garments sold in the marketplace.

Unsurprisingly, Imelda steps forward from the crowd and releases my wrist. The visitor's eyes dart to her.

"Welcome to Adaymos, Mr Marule." Her voice is high pitched and girly as she curtseys. "If you would like, I'd love to show you around."

"Imelda." I tug on her sleeve. "You have to be at the Children's home, remember?"

The strangers gaze flickers from Imelda to me, as if noticing me for the first time, and warmth rushes to my cheeks. I had whispered, there is no chance that he could have heard me. His eyes flash unnaturally.

"I am quite alright, Miss..." he trails off, talking to Imelda but still staring at me. His voice is deep and velvety, layered with a slight accent that makes my knees shake. Everything about him is new and different and intriguing. I lower my gaze to the ground.

"Thelene," Imelda breathes.

"Miss Thelene," he says. I don't dare look up at him, for I can still feel his heated gaze on my face. "It appears you have somewhere you need to be. Perhaps some other time."

I feel Imelda's head turn to look at me, the heat of her gaze making me wish I hadn't spoken. "Yes," Imelda says tightly. "Perhaps."

Kenna's fingers rest on my elbow. I turn to look at her as she leans in to whisper in my ear. "He's staring at you," she says. I keep my eyes on the ground to hide the way my cheeks burn. "You should offer to show him around."

I could never. Not when I've just ruined Imelda's chances, and not when I am just me – Alera. And this man is exceptionally good looking. There is a charm to him that none of the men in Adaymos holds, and from the look on the villagers' faces – I know I'm not the only one who recognises it. There are women who are far better suited to him than I.

"I also have somewhere to be." I hold up my bucket as Kenna's eyes dart down. "And Papa will be irritated if I don't return by lunch."

With that thought, I turn around and Kenna follows closely behind me. I glance over my shoulder at the stranger once we've left the crowd. He still stares after us with dancing eyes and a grin tugging at his lips. My stomach flips.

I turn around and convince myself it was Kenna he was staring after – for that is the way men often look at her.

#

"William Marule." Elizabeth leans against the wooden wall with a sigh. "Even his name is swoon-worthy."

"Did you see the way old man Jo's wife was gazing at him?" Amelia points out as I scan a stone from the ground and place it inside my bucket. "Even an eighty-year-old woman isn't exempt from his charms."

I wrinkle my nose at the thought of the visitor engaging in conversation with old man Jo's wife. "That's hardly a pleasant image."

"Oh, Alera." Amelia waggles her eyebrows. "Stop acting like he doesn't make you want to drop your dress."

Elizabeth and Kenna giggle when my cheeks heat up. "Of course not." I fold my arms across my chest. "That is extremely inappropriate; he is from the Palace. If we were caught saying such things-"

Krysta rolls her eyes and nudges me. "You worry too much," she says. "I am going to look for Mr Marule."

She pushes off the wall and disappears around the corner. We stare after her, all wishing we had her confidence.

I pick a stone up off the ground and examine it in my hands, finding a dent on the top. With a sigh, I pick up the heavy bucket and leave my friends giggling by the gate. I'm sure I've searched the entire village and have barely filled half of the bucket. Papa will be so disappointed.

Lugging the bucket along behind me as I step away from the girls, I wander along the outskirts of the village, staring at the ground before it is interrupted by the wall. Once I've walked a quarter of the way around, I reach a small hole in the wall. On the other side of the hole, the ground is scattered with round, flat stones.

I reach my hand through the hole, but I can't reach them. I peer through the hole and nibble on the edge of my lip. The forest is a considerable distance away, it's day time, and the stones are exactly the kind I need. If a beast were to show up in the trees, I would have time to crawl back through the hole.

With a glance over my shoulder, I push my bucket through and lie flat on the ground on my stomach, shimmying through the hole before pushing to my feet. I press my back against the other side of the wall as adrenaline pumps the blood to my heart.

I've left the protective walls of the village.

I take a shaky breath and scramble up the stones on the ground. It gets heavier and heavier so I have to carry it with both arms.

"What use would a woman like you have with a bucket of stones?"

The bucket of stone falls to the ground as I leap backwards at the deep, velvety voice. My heart catapults in my chest as dark eyes stare into my own.

Mr Marule.