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blushed.
    Father chuckled. “Now, now, you’ve made her crimson. Don’t court both my daughters at once, you cad!” He reached for a date. “Try these, Rafael, they’re divine.”
    Adelina continued her path around the table and arrived, exhausted, at her place. Mother and Silvana were already in discussion, and Mother’s fierce expression suggested that it wasn’t entirely cordial. “…an unfortunate state of affairs,” Mother was saying. “In a world ruled by violence, we have no recourse but to pray to God, and of course God has His own affairs to manage.”
    “What affairs would those be?” Silvana glanced at Adelina and smiled. Adelina blushed and shivered. At this rate, she’d be in pieces by the end of the night. “It’s hard to conceive of the daily life of a Creator.”
    “Affairs of heaven and earth, of course. Devising blessings for the devout and reprimands for the iniquitous. Like the master of a grand household, only His household is all that was and ever will be.” Mother took a furious sip of her soup. “Are you so wholly irreligious as not to know this?”
    “Religious observances vary across the continent, Mistress Delfina. I’ve seen such varied theologies that it becomes hard to accept the rule of any single one. How do you know your faith is the right way?”
    Adelina’s stomach tensed. Nobody ever spoke to Mother this way. Irena, too, seemed to have been caught by the unexpected tone of the conversation, and she shifted away from an indignant Felise to listen.
    “My life is woven through with miracles, that’s why. My continued existence is an act of heavenly confirmation.” Mother dabbed her lips with a napkin. “I cannot imagine what your existence stands in testament of. Sheer impiety, perhaps.”
    “And what makes me so impious?”
    “Well, your provocative manner of dress, for one. That sword, those trousers, that hair of yours, even the way you sit. It’s as if you wish to appropriate maleness.”
    “Womanhood takes many forms, and we’re not bound to behave in any way other than that we deem fit. It’s not a question of maleness.” Silvana took a mouthful of soup while Mother waited, her eyes glittering. “Why shouldn’t a woman wear her hair as she pleases? Carry a sword if it’ll keep her safe?”
    “There are certain spheres for men and certain spheres for women. Women conduct themselves in a way that is congruent with our God-given form of life. That is to say, a woman has no need for a sword. She needs only a man with the strength to wield one for her.” Mother glanced at Rafael, who was laughing with Marconus over some joke. “And you appear to have one.”
    “Rafael? I’m safer when his clumsy sword is sheathed. So is he, for that matter.” Silvana arched an eyebrow. “Mistress Delfina, it’s absurd to suggest that a perfectly fit and capable woman should refuse to defend herself and her family. Wouldn’t you wield a sword to protect your daughters if they had no other defense?”
    Adelina took a mouthful of warm, salty soup to prevent herself from cheering at Mother’s rare expression of doubt. “I’ll grant you that I might do just that,” Mother said. She sucked hard on her teeth, her eyes quick with thought. “But that would be an act of desperate motherhood, whereas you seem to live a life of male violence as easily as if it were your own skin.”
    “So you admit men are violent.”
    Mother shrugged. “Who would deny it?”
    “Let me put something to you. These so-called ‘spheres’ of yours are not the work of God, but of men. It is their great injustice toward us, one that darkens our lives and reduces the most unfortunate of our sisters to mere property.”
    Adelina trembled, and Irena blanched. What would Mother say to that?
    “Is that so.” Mother took a fig, chewed it with slow deliberation, swallowed and cleared her throat. “You speak as if you envy men their privileges. But what are these privileges really? The