"Ugh, my stomach hurts," cried a young girl.
Serena had been enjoying a brief moment of peace, tucked near the barrels at the edge of the square, away from the noise and press of the feast. She had a good view of the dancers, long lines of laughter and colour weaving through the square. From a distance, it looked like music had taken human form and flowed through the bodies of the dancers.
The child's voice cut through it all.
Serena turned, startled. A girl, no older than thirteen, was crouched a few paces away, her hands clutching her belly, face contorted in discomfort. Her dress was wrinkled at the knees where she'd clearly been kneeling or sitting on the stones. Serena blinked slowly and pushed the strands of air that flew across her face.
"Are you alright?" Serena asked, already rising to her feet.
The girl groaned softly, shaking her head.
