The Play Rite. Chapter one

This is the first part of a much longer book that I am currently in the prosses of writing.

I hope you like it.

The air was cold and sharp. Everyone was waiting, watching. Who would be chosen? Not even the wind made a sound. At last the wise man opened his mouth. The crowd leaned in, ready to be called. The wise man spoke, ‘Josefine of Alton and Alfred Stone of Alton.’

Josefine froze. Her name was just called. She would have to play the lead in the most important play of the last ten years. She was poor, she was an orphan, and she was a nobody. This was so wrong. She wished that she could refuse, but the gods had chosen her. She had to do it. Josefine pushed through the crowd and got up on stage next to the wise man. On his other side stood a you man. He was obviously more important than herself.

The boy named Alfred looked at her. His chocolate-brown eyes seemed to see every inch of her, even though they never moved off her face. She found herself hating him for that. She wasn’t really sure why.

Alfred heard his name and time slowed. He seemed to see everything in slow-motion. All he could hear was his slow heartbeat. There was a young girl trying to make her way through the crowd. She was a pretty, young thing. She looked like one of the mountain folk rather than one of the flatland folk. He wondered why she lived here. Only once he got up on stage did he realize that that young girl would likely end up having to play his lover in the show. Really, she couldn’t be as young as she looked, could she? His mouth went dry. The only thing separating them now was the wise man. He moved aside and clasped both of their inward-facing hands together. Alfred started to recite the sacred vow. The crowd followed his lead.