Arwa. Lalita. She squeezed her eyes shut. Hot tears slid down her cheeks.

Usha.

She felt Amun’s fingertips. They were light as butterfly wings against her shoulder.

“Mehr,” he said softly.

So he’d been feigning sleep after all. She dashed the tears away from her eyes, blinking them back. Although he shifted away at her first movement, he was still there, a warm presence at her back. She brushed her knuckles over the ribbon of her seal, heavy at her throat.

He was here. He would always be here. That, at least, she could trust.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m just fine. Go back to sleep.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Mehr expected the next day to follow their established routine of prayer and food and breathing. Instead, after prayers Amun handed Mehr a small portion of bread wrapped in cloth and guided her down an unfamiliar set of corridors. When Mehr realized they were not going to the hall—that they were, in fact, walking away from it—she tugged at Amun’s sleeve to force him to slow down.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“You need supplies,” said Amun.

“If by ‘supplies’ you mean more clothes, I do,” Mehr admitted. She had been struggling to manage with what she had. “Some more soap would be helpful too.”

“Well, we’re going to get you what you need.”

Other mystics had also finished their prayers and their meals and were making their way through the temple. Surrounded by other people, Mehr wasn’t sure how openly she could speak. She spent a good few minutes eating her bread in silence.

“I imagine the Maha won’t be pleased,” she said quietly. “We should be preparing for the storm. If he believes we’re neglecting our duty …”

Amun shook his head. “Practicing constantly is clearly ineffective,” he said. “A morning spent on other tasks would do us both some good.”

“I doubt the Maha will agree with you.”

Amun didn’t answer immediately. He guided Mehr beyond the communal bathing rooms and said, finally, “If the Maha becomes aware of our absence, I will take responsibility. I can tell anyone honestly that this was my decision. Don’t trouble yourself, Mehr.”

“And you think he’ll believe you led me astray, like a lost child?” Mehr tutted in disbelief. “Don’t be foolish, Amun.”

“As my wife bound by Ambhan vows, you should obey me,” Amun said blandly. “I’m sure the Maha will understand that.”

Mehr laughed despite herself. She bit her lip when she saw the startled eyes of other mystics turn on her. “I think you take my vows too literally.”

Amun gave her a quizzical look. It occurred to Mehr that Amun’s experience of marriage had to be limited. Amrithi didn’t wed—Mehr saw now, for very good reasons—and mystics vowed to remain unmarried while in service. How to explain the nature of Ambhan marriage to an outsider?