Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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sweat-soaked gambeson, pulled her shirt off while the girl put the equipment on its stand, drank thirstily
and wiped herself down with a wet towel. She glanced around; nobody near, and nothing she need do
urgently for the next little while.
"Thanks," she said, pouring a final dipper over her own head. "Come on in, I want to talk to you for a
minute." The Thane-girl followed. The inside of the tent was bare of anything but a scroll-rack and some
cushions; Shkai'ra sank to one, kneeling back and resting her chin on her sword-hilt.
"Sova," she said abruptly, after the girl had sat down. "Talking isn't my skill. Megan's better at it."
Another silence. "But sometimes things must be said." Her copper brows knitted in a frown of
concentration. "I never expected to… have a child in my care before I came to Brahvniki last year." A
faint smile. "I got out of the habit of thinking far ahead, after I left my homeland. Now that I've got family
responsibilities, I've got to get it back. Zoweitzum, I might get killed tomorrow, and there'd be all sorts of
things I couldn't say, dead."
Tomorrow. Little do you know. Zaik and Jaiwun, I'm not looking forward to sneaking into Arko.
Give me a stand-up fight any day.
Her face settled and went a little distant. "Sova, I don't know how you feel about your birth-parents.
It's… private, eh?"
The girl's pale eyes peered up at her from under her brows. "Mybirth-parents ?" Shkai'ra didn't make a
habit of mentioning them, had never spoken of Sova's feelings about them. "With all due respect,
khyd-hird ," she answered, after a time of thought, "what I feel about my birth-parents is none of your
rucking business."
Shkai'ra gave a short bark of laughter. "Megan will scorch my ears for teaching you bad speech."
Grimly. "Now, as my daughter—"
"I'm not your daughter."
"By adoption, legalist!"
"It's not the same."
Shkai'ra blinked. "Didn't say it was. Doesn't make a difference to my obligations; when you come of age
in two years, you can tell us to fuck off."
"You said 'as my daughter.' But I'm not. And never will be."
Shkai'ra sighed. "You're my daughter under the law. And Megan's, Rilla's, and Shyil's. You'll inherit our
property equally with any other child, we have to see to your education, we're responsible to the
authorities for you. Savvy?"
"So say 'my daughter under the law.' It's not by blood." Sova lifted the dipper, took a long draught.
"Consider it understood,' Shkai'ra said drily. 'What I wanted to talk about was your further education.
You're getting old enough to start thinking about what you want to spend effort on, and what you have
talent for. We've been giving you a general training—you're going to be rich, after all, you don't need to
know how to weave or hoe turnips—and we've had enough time to know your aptitudes, a little. Megan
says you're doing well on the books, very well for a late start. I'd say, and I should know, that you've got