Mehr was reminded of the way Maryam had entertained visitors to the women’s quarters, in the early years when Mehr had still been welcome in Maryam’s private salon and able to watch the refined games of strategy that noblewomen favored. Like the women of her father’s household, the Maha’s female servants had their own ways of exchanging and establishing wealth and power.

Mehr gave Hema a sidelong glance. Hema, no doubt, had the best of everything: dry spices in pouches tucked in the lining of her bedroll; jewels on chains tucked beneath the collar of her tunic; access to food, to water, to the things that made life bearable in this place. That was power. If she asked any of the girls for their winnings, no doubt they would hand them over without complaint. Mehr had seen the way they worshipped her, a worship far more real and personal than the awed, terrified way they bowed their heads before the Maha. Beyond this room Hema may have been a kitchen maid, but here she was a queen.

The powder on the board helped the pieces move more easily, but it wasn’t long before all the women’s fingertips were stained white with chalk, and the residue was threatening to make its way onto their clothes and bedding. Seeing a chance to do more than watch uselessly, Mehr got to her feet and went in search of water. There was a clay jug in a corner. She brought it over and helped one of the younger girls rub her hands clean. Mehr was given a grateful smile in return.

“Now you come play,” Hema said imperiously. When Mehr tried to demur, Hema took her hand and drew her back down to the pillows. The jug was removed from Mehr’s grip.

“I don’t know all the rules,” Mehr protested.

“It doesn’t matter if you know all the rules,” Hema said. “Anyway, this is the best way to learn.”

All avenues of escape were gone. So Mehr sat with them, eyeing the board with its many shades and discs and the fine layer of powder on its surface. “It’s your turn,” Hema prompted.

Mehr had nothing to barter, and no one asked her to offer anything up. Somehow that did not comfort her. If she failed, the possessions of other team members were at stake instead, and although this was a game, just a game, she was still an outsider. She didn’t know if they would look kindly on her failing them.