Really? prevent interest in "male" jobs?
What a bunch of bull!
Marie said, "Can I have... a glass of milk? Good milk, not spoiled milk?" Her eyes were wide with complete shock, that someone besides her father actually cared about what she wanted. When she had lived with the innkeepers, they had abused her, starved her until she nearly died, forbidden her from getting medicine when she was sick and other atrocities.
Ishmael smiled sadly, recalling when he had first met Marie, when she was still too weak to even speak full sentences, too frail to be happy.
Aviance looked over at Alli and smiled, then led him out of the nursery by the hand. "We did a good job," she murmured, stroking his hair softly.
Miranda stared up at him, then nodded slightly. She knew what that meant, and she was, herself, a stark realist. I know, there's probably not a future for us together... I shouldn't be doing this. I can't get hurt, not again. But she didn't let go of his hand, squeezing his hand instead.