Free Misery's Child (The Cadian Chronicles) by J. B. Yandell Page B

beard, you have enough hair for three.”
    Lillitha giggled.
Father’s friend was here! And from Tira, no less! No amount of Yanna’s chiding
could dim her excitement.
    “Come, child. We
have a walk and a lesson to finish.”
    Lillitha walked
faster now; the sooner they concluded their march, the sooner they would be
back at the house. Perhaps she would be allowed to help Tesla in the kitchen.
The cook was always much put out when unexpected guests arrived.
    “You are getting
much better at listening,” Yanna said. So much better, in fact, that she
wondered if the girl was tadomani .
“It is a gift that will serve you well. Knowledge is the second strongest
weapon a woman may possess.”
    “The second?
What’s the strongest then?”
    “The wisdom to
know how to use it.”
    “Is that how you
knew about the poems, then?”
    Yanna smiled
again, ever so slightly. She had not expected to find so much amusement in her
position as cadia- techa, neither had she expected to
feel such affection for her charge. She was often more abrupt than she intended
lest Lillitha detect any softness in her.
    “I simply
observed. You were acting strangely that day in the library. One minute you
were half-asleep with boredom, the next your color was high and your
respiration had increased. I had only to glance at the shelves and see that the
volume of Gideon was missing to surmise you had taken it.”
    “Are you angry
with me?”
    “I suppose I
should be.”
    “But you’re not?”
    “What’s done is
done. You’ll find that rules and traditions have a purpose. In breaking them,
it is yourself to whom you do the most harm.”
    Somehow the
cadia’s calm answer was even direr than angry words.
    “I am not here to
force you along a path,” Yanna continued, “but to guide you. The most important
lessons are the ones you must figure out for yourself.”
    The girl’s
forehead creased. “I don’t understand.”
    “You’re not
ignorant. You’ve read it. Why do you suppose reading that kind of poetry is
discouraged?”
    “I...uh, because
it was written by a Tor?” She knew it was the wrong answer even before Yanna
frowned.
    “I know that the
love between Homa and Gideon was wrong,” Lillitha stammered. She hated it when
Yanna pursed her lips that way. “Homa was a married woman.”
    “Love is never
wrong. Nowhere in the poem is Homa actually unfaithful to her husband. The
danger in such poetry is not in its content, but in the feelings it may
arouse.”
    “If love is never
wrong, then what is the harm? It was such a beautiful story—”
    “If you are chosen
shallana breda , whom do you suppose you will think of
when the Shallan takes you to his marriage bed? Gideon or Bogrode? Will it make
your duty any easier to long for what you will not and cannot have?”
    “I had hoped... I
had hoped that I might...” she stammered, unable to speak it out loud. She
suddenly saw her folly clearly. She looked away, unable to bear Yanna’s gaze.
    “Don’t hope for
one minute that love will be any part of your life as shallana breda ,” Yanna said crossly. “Except during joining, the
shallana breda is never alone with the shallan. Never. For him to allow himself
to have any feelings at all for her is strictly forbidden.”
    “But why? Should
not the sacred joining be softened by some sort of affection?”
    “Think, Lillitha!
You’ve a brain in your head, use it!” Yanna stopped walking and took hold of
the girl’s shoulders as if she would shake her. “When six summers have come and
gone, with or without the birth of a male child, the Shallan must put aside his
bride and choose another! Affection between them would only make that duty
harder! And it is all about duty, duty and nothing more! Not love, not even
companionship! Understand that now.”
    Lillitha shrugged
away from the cadia. She was ashamed of her foolishness and of the tears that
stung her eyes.
    “Ah, little
sister.” She cradled the girl against her chest and