But how could that be possible?
She had once been her father's darling. For a time, wherever he went, he took her with him. Those stodgy old dignitaries always needed someone at the table who could fire off witty remarks without childish restraint, and she happened to be clever and quick-tongued.
She had once played to her heart's content in Arevalo's backyard, while the daughters of counts and dukes could only sit properly in their seats and watch her run wild alone, either envious or disdainful. She had also once sat on her father Trion's lap, listening as they discussed changing conditions in District 3 or south of District 12. All she had to do was occasionally say something deliberately profound, and she could make an entire table of adults roar with laughter.
She grew up like that until she was twelve or thirteen—clever, lively, one of a kind. Everyone who met her thought she was an unrestrained little sprite. But everything began to change. When she started bleeding every month, the parts of her that belonged to that sprite began to slip away as well. She began to fall toward being human, toward being a woman. People could see innocence in a child's wild running and screaming, excusing it with laughter and sighs. But once she grew older, their judgment became: "Ill-mannered."
Xina discovered in horror that hair had begun to grow in her smooth armpits, filling her with an unspeakable shame. Her chest often hurt, and a light touch revealed hard lumps. Her mother said they were developing mammary glands. Her periods were shockingly heavy. No matter how carefully she guarded against it, blood would always suddenly gush out at careless moments, staining her favorite sheets and dresses... She did not understand what she had done wrong to