Mavra turned to Ferenc. “It’s a story, but yes, on Karis they did once cut throats on the altar of the Queen of the Snows. For treason and for disobeying clan-affiliation rules, but they haven’t done that in recent times, not for a thousand years at least.”
“Ick,” Ferenc said. “So the red sparkles were supposed to be blood.”
“That’s the old-fashioned way of presenting it. When I was at the Academy, though, they were going through a hyper-realist fad, buckets of stage blood. What a mess to mop up after, that’s all I could think at the time.”
Ferenc, age 8, is Jehen’s younger half-brother. This is the children’s first introduction to classical glam space opera, in holographic performance. Mavra’s wry observation about stage blood echoes George Sand’s sardonic letters home about the Paris theater scene of the 1830s.
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