“Sometimes,” she began, then cleared her throat. “Sometimes, one wishes to wait. Or—there are too many ceremonies. Or—”

“Maram.”

Maram looked up at her, eyes wide. Aghraas’s expression had softened as if she’d seen something in Maram’s face or heard something in her voice and it had moved her. Vulnerability. Maram would only ever stumble as she was doing now with Aghraas.

She pulled her hands from Aghraas and walked to the table where they’d dined. A handmaiden had brought the small wooden box from her room a little while ago, and Maram laid her hands on it now.

“When reconstruction is well under way,” she said, looking down. “And it won’t be seen as an exorbitant—”

“Maram,” Aghraas said again. “What is in the box?”

She’d come forward as she said it and now stood beside Maram. Maram lifted the lid of the box and waited.

Inside were two rings—simple, silver, from her mother’s collection. She’d had them smelted down and reshaped, one enlarged for Aghraas, both set with one half of a single gem each. A yellow stone, flecked with red. The sound Aghraas made—Maram could not look up.

The falconer pulled one ring from the box—the smaller one—and held out her palm until Maram laid a trembling hand in it. Neither spoke as Aghraas slid the ring onto her fourth finger.

“A promise,” Aghraas said, and Maram retrieved the larger ring from the box and slid it over Aghraas’s finger.

“A promise,” she repeated, and her voice broke. So few people made promises to her worth keeping. It seemed foolish to hope, even in this new world order, but she wanted to believe so very desperately that she could trust in this. That she could be worthy of it.

Aghraas bent her head to Maram’s and her arms came around her waist and her mouth met hers. She never ceased to be surprised by her warmth or the frisson of pleasure that shot through her from a single touch.

“One heart, one home,” Aghraas murmured against her cheek.

And Maram looked over Aghraas’s shoulder at the image of her mother and felt for the first time that her mother’s dream had been realized. That she had found a world, had begun to shape one, in which justice and love could be one and the same.

POLITICAL FACTIONS

The Vath: an invading race of humanoids who have thus far conquered four planets, the most recent being Andala. They are ruled by a council of High Directors, and their king, Mathis.

The Kushaila: one of three main ethnic-tribal federations on the planet Andala bound by common language, traditions, and the first woman: Houwa. Largely based in the northern section of the main continent.