I found myself beginning to hate Black Otter too. I might have been able to dismiss his ignoring me, but not his moving in on my father's affections. As the king's new son, Black Otter spent time with my father every day. Sometimes he sat in on court when Father listened to the peasants fight over land and who killed whose turkeys; they spent time in the men's private yard, where Father tutored him on wielding swords and spears; and Father and Nochuatl took Black Otter hunting with them at least once a week. Before my heart merely missed my father; now it burned with jealousy for having lost him to my new husband.

"I wish I'd been born a boy," I told Mother as we walked through the market, towards the temple of Quetzalcoatl. She wished to make offerings to the Feathered Serpent in thanks for giving her my brother and insisted I come along. I didn't want to; I not only despised Black Otter, but I also despised my brother, for, though he wasn't yet born, he too would enjoy the privilege of my father's company. "Why wasn't I born a boy, Mother? It's not fair."

She set a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. "Life is seldom fair, Papalotl. And you were born a girl because that's what the gods wished you to be. I know being a woman is difficult, but life itself is difficult, even for men. While we remain safe behind stone walls, they go off to war, many to die and never see their loved ones again. We make sacrifices, but so do they."

"It's still not fair," I huffed. "Father hates me."

"Your father doesn't hate you," Mother said, a hint of warning in her voice but I wasn't in the mood to heed it today.

"He does too," I spouted. "He's never loved me because I wasn't a boy."

"That is enough now, Quetzalpetlatl," Mother said, stopping in the middle of the crowded market, our guards pressing in around us. This time I knew better than to push the subject any further; she only used my proper name when I was in trouble. "Maybe your father was right; you have been too coddled, allowed too much freedom, and though I truly don't wish to send you away to calmecac before you're twelve, perhaps what you need is the strict regiment of a priestly school to remind you of your place."

I hung my head, to try to look remorseful when in fact I was scowling. Now Father had turned Mother against me too and I was fuming.

Mother sighed and knelt in front of me. "I really do understand how you feel, Papalotl. It was tough for me to understand why my own father had to distance himself from me--"

"But why? What did we do?" I asked, tears now leaking down my nose.

"You didn't do anything, and never think you did. There's an order to things in our world and it says that men and women only cross paths for certain things, and outside that we live our own lives apart."

"I don't want to live apart from Father, or Black Otter, or uncle Nochuatl," I said. "They make me happy when they're around."

"I know they do." Mother smoothed my hair and sighed. "I'm sorry I can't explain it so you'd understand. And yes, it's not fair, but that's how things are and we just have to accept it."

Her answer only irritated me more but I managed to keep my temper this time.

"How about this? When we're done at the temple, we'll go down to the lake and see if your father will let you watch he and Black Otter hunting. They're practicing spearing ducks over there this afternoon," Mother suggested.

I wiped away the last of my tears, nodded eagerly then took her hand and we continued on to the temple.