Excerpt of Angels At The Gate by T.K. Thorne

If the path of obedience is the path of wisdom, it is one not well worn by my feet. I am Adira, daughter of the caravan, daughter of the wind, and daughter of the famed merchant, Zakiti. That I am his daughter, not his son, is a secret between my father and myself. This is a fine arrangement, as I prefer the freedoms of being a boy. . . . In our tent, my father turns his fury on me. “What are you doing?” he hisses to keep from shouting. “What Raph said I was doing, teaching them our language. Why are you so angry, Father?” His fists knuckle in frustration. “Why?” He turns and paces into the depth of our tent where my pallet lies in the shadows. Whirling back, he approaches me, keeping his voice under control with an effort. “That is exactly the problem. You have no conception of danger!” Danger? I am lost to his meaning. “I thought they were El’s messengers and friends of Abram. Why would they mean me harm? My father blinks. “They are men, Adira. Men.” Finally, I understand. This is related to my father’s worry about raising a daughter alone. If my mother had lived, he would probably not be so anxious about the subject. I suddenly wonder why he never married again. Most men would have. Why have I never questioned this before? “Why didn’t you marry another woman, Father?” My father appears to swallow the barrage of words he is about to spew, though his mouth remains open. “What?” Feeling bolder, now that we have left the tents of Abram behind, I say, “All this deception about my gender would have been unnecessary had you married and let me grow up as other girls.” His face slackens, all the anger drained away. “Have you been unhappy? I thought you wished to be with me, or was it more you did not wish to stay with Sarai?” I want to laugh, but I see the pain in him and do not. “I have been most happy, Father. I would not trade my life for any other.” He brightens, until I add. “I just do not want to be a woman.” “That is not a choice you have.” This time I stop the fear that uncoils like a serpent in my belly, remembering the last time I thought to run from my fate. A wolf almost ate me, and Nami lost her pups. Eventually, I must deal with the fact I am a woman, but it is not important at this moment. “Neither of the strangers knows I am a girl,” I say quietly in the most reasonable voice I can muster. “I am just a boy to them.” Father sighs. “Perhaps, but I forbid you to go alone into their tent. One day you will want a husband, and your reputation will matter. I want no one spreading falsities about you.” I grind my teeth. This is exactly why I do not want to be a woman, at least not one of our tribe. Men never worry about such things. They do exactly as they please, but let a woman step her toe beyond the boundary men mark, and she is ruined, not worthy of being a wife.