not even the clothes she wears.” Shael noticed that there were no unattended women in the street. Dowdily dressed and veiled women trailed listlessly behind the menfolk. The men would stop and talk. The women waited, eyes downcast, three or four paces behind their keepers.
“And do you know what the worst of it is?” commented Leyla viciously. “The bloody women maintain the system. Mothers teach their daughters that only a harlot would look a man in the eyes, that a woman’s place is in the home to nurture and support her man, and her sons; and this is the way women are meant to be in the eyes of God. If they even suspect that a woman is unfaithful, the other women kill her.”
“It sounds awful. How did you get out?” Shael asked, finding herself drawn in and curious.
The question seemed to startle Leyla. It was almost as if she’d been unaware of the fact that she’d had an audience. “I don’t want to talk about it. Anyway, you’re a fine one to talk. You jumped and hopped at your father’s bidding, didn’t you?”
Shael was both startled and angry. She drew herself up. “I’m a Royal