AllFreeNovel
Share Us
chapter
one
Verity
The problem with being a human living in a monster town is the whole being a human part. The townspeople—monsters?—often whisper behind their hands about how tiny my ears are or how flat my nose is. They remark on the nearly pale, colorless shade of my skin, dotted in spots but only in certain places, like the bridge of my flat nose. In essence, they find me boring. Plain and uninteresting.
Monsters have existed in our world for as long as humans, some would argue longer. At first, the monsters tended to stick to their communities in Screaming Woods and Fable Forest. But as humans became more comfortable with their presence, they’ve spilled into cities and are now, for the most part, an accepted part of society. It’s not unusual to see werewolves, vampires, ogres, and satyrs, to name a few, roaming the streets like everyday citizens.
Me? I live in Fable Forest, one of the original towns where all the monster action started. Fable Forest holds the largest number of ancient tomes. It's rich in history and mythology, and as a scholar of ancient languages, I love it here.
Except for the loneliness.
But thankfully, I convinced my best friend, Alice, to move here a few months after I got settled. Having her here helps, but it still feels like something is missing …
I brush at a spot of lint on my deep blue party dress. My nerves jangle, ever the constant reminder that I’m uncomfortable in my own skin. I have no legitimate reason to be this nervous. I’ve worked for the Lancasters for over two years, and I want to celebrate their son Adrian’s triumph. After all, I was his tutor, so I was part of his success story.
The red brick mansion perches on the crest of a hill. I move through the foyer, not paying attention to the priceless ancient statues or the paintings by old-world masters. I’ve seen them dozens of times before.
I also ignore the female ogre who approaches me, a frown firmly set on her green face.She’s one of the main protectors for the Lancaster family.
“Ma’am, stop please,” a deep but feminine voice calls out in ancient Etruscan. I almost ignore the order, but a hand at my elbow stops me. “I need your bag, please, Verity.”
Before I can protest and reach for my EpiPen, the bag and pen are gone. Uni’s wide hips disappear through a doorway. With how big ogres are, you'd think they would be slow and lumbering. But they’re actually quite spry.
Dammit. I could have asked for it, but these people already think my humanness makes me so frail that a brisk wind could take me. Kinda hilarious, if you think about it, because I’m no wilting flower. In the human world, I’m what would be considered plus size. Wide hips, big boobs, soft belly, and thighs that could start a fire with all the chaffing.
Through the opened French doors to my right is the garden. An expansive space fit for a grand English estate. Fountains, topiaries, perfectly squared-off hedges, you know the look. I’ve only ever seen a yard like this in books and on television, but it turns out they do exist. Dozens of people mill about and laughter carries on the wind. Tables laden with food and drinks border the paved area.
The people wander around, visiting and eating, seemingly unaware of the potential danger flying around them. Buzzing little devils are no doubt out there. But surely the odds of them coming near me when I’m briefly outside without my EpiPen are slim to none?
I’ve got this. I can do this. I take a deep breath, hoping I don’t make a complete idiot of myself out there.
Schooling my features into a smile, patting down my light brown hair, and smoothing out the pleats of my dress one last time, I step outside into the bright sunshine. I blink for a moment, trying to let my eyes adjust. Before they fully adjust, a woman’s voice booms from the chatter, and another hand grasps my elbow.
“Verity, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you to arrive so I can introduce you to my friend, Skylar Waitrose. She has a ten-year-old son she wants to talk to you about,” Della Lancaster, mother of the brilliant boy I tutor, says far too loudly, considering she’s standing right next to me. “Skylar, this is the genius I’ve been telling you about.”
Not much about Della can be called delicate, and she soon pulls me off my feet and in the direction of a rather overwhelmed-looking woman. The other woman is about the same height as me, and we both have to tilt our heads back to look at Della. I’ve never inquired about the heritage of the Lancasters, though. I suspect they’re giants of some kind because they’re all extremely tall. Even Adrian, only twelve years old, stands a head taller than me.
Della claps her enormous hands. “I’m so very pleased you’re finally meeting. Skylar, I assure you that Verity and her mastery of ancient languages is the only reason Adrian won his place in the Elite Program for Magical Languages.”
Skylar has the pale blue skin of a half-Kelpie. Her skin is lovely, her iridescent scales shimmering in the sun. At least, I assume they’re scales. She seems a little overwhelmed by Della’s enthusiasm.
I smile and nod as gracefully as possible, holding out my hand. “How do you do?”
“Fine, thank you,” Skylar says. Her pale blue eyes flit between me and Della. Her wide gaze is filled with apprehension as it flicks to Della’s meaty hand. Maybe she’s worried Della will haul her around the same way she’s been manhandling—giantess-handling?—me. “Della tells me you’re an absolute genius with languages.”
I chuckle. “Della says that so often I almost believe it. But I think it’s that I have an ear for languages. Some people can pick out a single musical note in a symphony. I can do that with words.” I know I’m talented with languages, but I also know I put in the hard work to learn them.
“How long have you been a tutor?” Skylar asks, moving around slightly.
I look down at Skylar’s shoes—stiletto heels. I squish my toes in my flat Mary-Jane’s. Just looking at those heels makes my feet and ankles ache.
“For around six years now,” I answer, raising my gaze to Skylar’s pretty eyes. “It makes me happy and pays the bills, so I keep at it.”
“You love what you do, and that’s always a good thing,” Della interrupts, and Skylar and I turn to her. “Excuse me, won’t you? I need to check on the cake.”
I smile and nod, my eyes moving over the guests. Skylar turns to answer her son when he runs up to ask if he can go with Adrian to look at the fishpond. I do love my job and my life. I even love these tense moments when I have to venture into the public domain and talk to people I don’t know. Okay, that’s a lie. I don’t love these functions at all, but I force myself to do them regardless of my level of discomfort. Because I do not want to live alone for the rest of my life.
