“I don’t mind,” Mehr told Amun, who was visibly unhappy, his shoulders hunched and his jaw tight.

“I do,” Amun said shortly. But after that he kept his feelings to himself, obeying Bahren’s directions in sullen silence.

Mehr really did not mind, at first. She reasoned that she would at least have the opportunity to find out exactly where the most important chambers in the temple were. Any knowledge she could gain during the night would be a worthwhile price for a bit of stolen blood. Amun had consistently refused to discuss escape since the first time Mehr had raised the possibility of it, but Mehr still carried the seed of hope within her. She held on to it as they began to move through the temple, marking the windows with their blood.

But the temple was huge, and to Mehr it soon began to feel as if every single empty hall, every storeroom or empty unshuttered window was considered important. The cut on the soft skin of her inner elbow stung from being constantly reopened.

It felt like a long, long time before Bahren declared that they were done. He gave Mehr and Amun cloth bandages to tie around their cuts to stem the blood, then told them to return to their room.

“I don’t know how you managed to do this on your own,” Mehr said to Amun once they were alone, wincing as she tightened the bandage an increment further. She was exhausted; her fingers were trembling with tiredness. “That was difficult enough for both of us.”

“Give me your new tunic,” Amun said. “You’re going to need it tomorrow.”

Of course. She’d have to make an effort to look presentable in front of the Maha. The Maha would not care how hard they had worked. He wouldn’t care how exhausted they were, or how long they’d been bled. He would expect them to dress and act in a way that showed him the proper respect and reverence. Mehr gave Amun the tunic and lay back on the bed, letting her exhaustion take her. She watched through half-lidded eyes as he moved around the room, picking up a needle and thread. He sat down next to her, close enough that his leg brushed her knee, and began to sew. Mehr watched, letting the silence blanket them both. She’d thought the sight of him with a needle would be absurd, but instead it was strangely comforting.

She closed her eyes to the sound of the wind howling beyond the windows, and the gentle in-out of Amun’s breath.