Bellatrix scanned over Emilou's appearance. The family had kept her in, against her advice. Misplaced affection from somewhere had let some members of the family try to convince themselves that the child was a genetic fluke.

But she'd been registered with a Tag, and that was enough for Bellatrix. It was like pruning a bush, or tree, in this case. If you didn't remove the dead and diseased parts the whole plant became stunted. Family trees were no different. Emilou represented a diseased shoot.

It had almost been a blessing when she'd left, but it had certainly been an insult. She had, to Bellatrix's mind, been much better treated by the family than she'd had a right to be, and had thrown that generosity back at them by leaving.

"Where's your tag?" she asked, sharply. The only language she deigned to speak was Jyllandi. She could speak Ivalician, of course, but why stoop to using that language unless she was dealing with some plebeian that couldn't speak hers?

The girl wasn't wearing her tag. It was another affront as far as Bellatrix was concerned. The tag marked her for who and what she was, and removing it was an attempt to hide it, and deny it.

Archades made for a predictable choice. Of course, the lowerworld, lower being the most apt descriptor, would attract the likes of Emilou. She probably fit in, after all. But it did make Bellatrix wonder who had found her in Archades to bring her here to Khamja.

The girl had no chance of being worthy of membership, after all, for all the clan was quick to accept mudbloods and halfbreeds.