'How did you come here, Penthe?'
'Oh, I was the sixth girl my mother and father had, and they just couldn't bring up so many and marry them all off.'
'Dreams and Tales', The Tombs of Atuan
Penthe had grown good at lying. The god in the blue box had saved her from drowning, and he had shown her—oh, so much! Her heart ached for the time when the Godking she pretended to revere had been dust for centuries, and being a woman with skin like a peach was no bar to sailing the seas in those strange smoky ships like dragons. But her god departed, and her parents grew to fear their sixth daughter who looked at her sisters through different eyes.
Some days in the desert she wished she'd had the courage to drown.