"Stop it!" her elder sister Laisa hissed. "Marri will get mad."
Marri was what they called their mother, who was accompanying them to the K'sati Isle. She was young to have such old children, and as nervous about this trip to put her daughters into fosterage as they were. Married to the King of Syth when she was only twelve and Laisa being concieved the same year, Marri had never had a chance to travel to many places. The desert women were expected to be kept out of sight; the only reason she was on this trip was because the K'satiims cherished their women. Laisa and Ailia were warned before they went that they were not to believe everything that they were taught in this place. Their nurse had sternly informed them that they were going only to establish mutual friendship between the Syth and the K'sati Isle, not to adopt their tradition of treating women like equals. Ailia was too young, Laisa thought, to understand what humiliation this was. They were in a litter with the curtains drawn, but the thin chiffon showed their silhouettes. Laisa was old enough to understand that this was a terrible immodesty; that women were never to be seen by men like this. But Ailia had twitched the curtain back a little bit, and was straining to look at the people lining the streets. Marri hadn't noticed yet, but if she did she'd be furious. Laisa bit her lip, wishing she could look too. But she was expected to know better, and the whippings she'd had told her that she wouldn't be able to move after the adequate punishment for such a thing. Even so, she leaned over, trying to peer out the crack her sister was using-
"Laisa! What do you think you're doing?" Marri hissed in a low voice oozing with venom. "I tell you, young lady, if you ever do that again-" she nodded at Ailia, "enticing your sister like that! You should be ashamed. And here we're supposed to be establishing a reputation of modesty and pride! You are nothing. Worthless. You will behave or I will flay you alive."
Laisa bit her lip and sat rigidly on her cushion. Ailia had dropped the curtain and was lying down with her eyes closed, unconcerned; it was not unusual for her elder sister and mother to act like this, quite the opposite. Marri had never been especially good at mothering, and was extremely short of temper. The trip had made her even more so; and she knew only how to fighten her children into acquiscence. She believed that there was no other effective way. Laisa stared down at her skirts. They were embroidered in gray on black; it was inappropriate for children to wear colors, and unseemly for a girl to wear anything other than black, gray, white or dark blue. She hated those colors for that reason. Having caught a glimpse of bright yellow and vivid red as they boarded the ship, she scowled furiuosly at her gown. She wished that they had been able to stay above deck on the ship to the islands. She had only had the merest glimpse of the white-crested waves before Marri had grabbed her elbow and yanked her below. Now, even though they were on the islands, Marri still wouldn't let her see anything. She glared at her mother, who was lazily leaning back and fanning herself. Laisa stared at the drawn curtains until the litter jolted to a halt. She looked at Marri in nervous disgust-her mother had begun to fervently whisper prayers of health and protection. Ailia started to get up, and Laisa put a hand on her arm, silently shaking her head. Ailia looked at her, betrayed. Laisa bit her lip; at home she had never had to discipline her little sister. More often, Ailia was aiding her in mischief. Marri sat up abruptly as the curtains were drawn. At first, Laisa was blinded by the sudden light. And then she saw her new home.
