In the castle of Trebond, in the north of Tortall, two nearly-identical eleven-year-olds sit in a tower room, sides pressed together in identical poses so that they could almost be sitting next to a mirror.
Alanna leans into the warmth where Thom's arms and legs touch hers, savouring it. By this time tomorrow, they may no longer be able to sit like this: tomorrow, by their father's command, Thom will be sent to the royal palace in the capital, to train as a knight, while Alanna goes to spend her adolescence in a convent like all nobles' daughters. They will most likely not see each other again for the next four years, or more.
"I hate this," she mutters, trying to press even closer.