Book 3 of the Zygradon Chronicles
"I wouldn't do that," Meghianna said, following her nurse further into her suite. "Lord Mrillis said it isn't polite to go into people's heads without their permission. And anyway, I'm not strong enough, even if I thought I needed to."
"There you go again, talking like a girl twice your age." Nalla didn't smile, like she usually did when she made that complaint. She settled on the nearest couch and used a corner of her apron to wipe the stranger child's face. "Here now, little Megassa, there's no need for tears. We're the last ones in this place to want to hurt you."
"But--but--why does she look like me?" the other child wailed.
Meghianna frowned as a thread of dislike curled through her belly. She had learned long ago that whining and wailing didn't do her any good, and was ugly and irritating. She wondered if this girl acted that way deliberately, or only from fear. She reminded herself to ask Mrillis why she had that idea, the next time she spoke with him.
That thought made her smile. The prospect of seeing the Rey'kil enchanter every day, to learn more about magic and the women who were Queen of Snows before her, was almost as wonderful as being able to see her father every day for the entire spring and summer.
"To be totally correct, you look like her. Meghianna is your elder by three moons. And you look alike because you're sisters. Half-sisters, anyway," Nalla corrected quickly. She sighed. "And, because your mothers are cousins. Were cousins, because sweet Queen Belissa is dead."
And your mother most likely killed her, but that's not your fault, so I won't say it.
Nalla's thought rang loudly through Meghianna's head, startling her. The girl yanked her mental fingers back from the Threads, feeling a little queasy at the strength of the thought, as well as the guilt of trespassing. A moment later, curiosity overrode everything.