Her eyes moved across the vista, watching the roiling waves of the sea. There was a storm coming. She could see the wall of clouds rolling in. It was part of life on the northern coast, especially in autumn, when the two moons crossed each other’s orbits, shaking up the tides and the weather. Kat had loved the storms as a child, sitting in the great hall in front of a roaring fire as the massive rains and wind beat against the house. The storms were deadly for the estates a bit farther south, lower lying and subject to catastrophic flooding. But the lands of the Regulli lay high up on a rocky plateau, above a wall of great cliffs that seemed almost to laugh at the sea’s attempts to challenge it.

Kay breathed deeply, savoring the cool morning air. She was accustomed by now to the recycled air and water on a spaceship, but she knew wherever duty took her, she would always miss the crisp autumn breezes of home.

It was early, predawn, only the faintest rays of morning glow illuminating the sky. She had risen hours before—indeed, she’d hardly slept. She knew how she was supposed to feel, but it was difficult looking into the children’s eyes, seeing the love they felt, but the unfamiliarity too. She was proud to be a Palatian, but it was a heavy load at times.

Perhaps they are better seeing me less often. It will ease the burden on them if I fall. Doting on them would only make them weak. And they must not be weak, for they will inherit great obligations as well as high station…

She knew Alliance customs had purpose. Children had to become strong, self-sufficient…or they would make poor warriors. And then they would die. They would die in defeat…and those who followed would again know servitude. The way was hard, but it was the only choice.

They will still have their fathers if I fall…

Katrine knew many of the other human societies were built around one version or another of pair bonding and subsequent reproduction, but the Alliance had rejected such inefficiencies. Kat had borne children because it was her duty to do so. Her station had placed her in control of the process, and she had selected each partner carefully, paying far more attention to such factors as genetics and social standing than to emotional nonsense.

That wasn’t to say she hadn’t enjoyed the process—though it had been far more satisfying with one partner than the other. But such distinctions were unimportant. Attraction and pleasure had their place in recreational sex, and trust and affection certainly played their role in the selection of friends and confidantes. But she had chosen her mates for their DNA, and nothing more.