It is never easy growing up different, but when no one has looked like you in seven generations, social life can become quite difficult to manage.
Of course nobody blames you, poor innocent child, for being born a green eyed blonde in a village full of raven haired people, certainly not your aunt, who loves you just the way you are, for the most part.
No enlightened elder would give heed to ridiculous superstitions such as “the blond curse” or “the fair maiden of the apocalypse”, nor will any reasonable person believe that one glance from your clear green eyes can render cows barren, but… There’s always a but.
