I’m not really sure this answered any of the prompts but it’s what I’ve got at the moment.
Content warning for discussion of unicorn rape.
“I went to the unicorn.” Tasha pulled her knees to her chest. “I drew the lots, and I went.” There was no inflection at all to her voice. “And I survived.” She turned her head to look at the basket to her side, where a tiny infant waved fists that looked human and made noises that sounded like baby noises. “I didn’t think I would. I didn’t think she would.” She patted the edge of the basket haphazardly.
Her friends – such as they were – listened. They were not the women she’d grown up with, but they were women, girls, maybe, of the Villages, and they had gathered in a corner of the great Faire to talk, because they had no appetite for the delicacies or the shows.
“I went to the unicorn.” Tasha wasn’t so much repeating herself as starting another chapter of the story. “Virgins do, and everyone knew I would be a virgin. I went down to the river, to save my Village. I didn’t cry and I didn’t shout.” She clutched her knees closer. “Not then. Not while I healed. Not while she was born. I did what I was sent to do.”
Her eyes traveled to the small thing in the basket again. Her companions’ gazes followed hers. The thing burbled and waved, like a real baby. Like a baby born the natural way.
Tasha’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I did what they asked. I do what they ask. I raise… I am her mother. She is my daughter.” Her hand rested more steadily now, on the baby’s chest. “That is what was needed of me.
“And now.” Her voice spiraled up louder. Her companions leaned forward: no need to shout, it’s all right. Hands patted at her. Someone shushed her quietly. “And now.” Her voice dipped again. “Now they want me to get married. I’ve done my duty, they say. And then they want me to get married.“
She picked up the child, heedless of the tiny bud of a horn that would one day be its own piercing weapon. “Why can’t they just leave us alone?”
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It seems they want her to get married to someone who doesn’t have redeeming features or interest in her eyes. “They” haven’t considered that they might be being pushy?
Poor lady.
Indeed.