“In all enclaves, there are those who sire brats to keep the population stable, the best-looking, brightest, and strongest.” She knew that, of course. “But everybody can’t do so or folks would starve. I’m trained for fighting and protecting, so I’d never do anything that could make me unfit for duty.” “Oh, child.” Her eyes went liquid with sympathy. I had no idea why, staring at her, puzzled. Surely they didn’t permit just anybody to mix their blood. That couldn’t end well. People would wind up stupid and squinty. “I’m sure that’s how it was where you lived,” she said at last. “But it’s
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