The wine. The wine had been a mistake, a terrible mistake. The wine and her own utter foolishness. Her weakness. After all the times Amun had protected her, after all the ways they’d both fought to hide their secret from the Maha—how could she betray him like this?

She squeezed her eyes shut. They were wet, streaming with unwanted tears.

She’d thought Amun had grown fragile after the storm. But she’d grown fragile too. If the storm hadn’t left her weak—and it surely had—then the sleepless nights, the nightmares, the Maha’s cruelties, had all done the storm’s work.

And now she’d failed herself. Failed him.

Mehr didn’t move when Hema kneeled down beside her.

“Drink from the oasis,” Hema said quietly. “It’s safe.”

Mehr cupped her hands in the water, raised them to her face, and rinsed out the foul taste in her mouth. Then she cupped her hands again and drank one, two sweet mouthfuls of water. They did nothing to clear her head. She looked at Hema. Hema was staring down at the water, her face still gray, her mouth a solemn line.

“Better?” she asked.

“Why are you trying to be kind to me?” Mehr asked in return. “I’ve done nothing for you.” I am nothing.

At first Hema was quiet. Then, carefully, she placed a hand on Mehr’s shoulder.

“I wanted to have Amrithi blood when I first came here. I knew the Amrithi were heathens, weren’t right, but I wanted to be useful. I wanted to serve with more than my prayers and my adoration. Your husband has always seemed like an animal, but the lady he served with … she was better than her kind, she was beautiful, and I wanted to be her more than anything.” Hema’s voice was soft, contemplative. “I watched her sicken and die, and I—I pitied her. I didn’t want it anymore.” She shook her head. “What you do is hard enough, Mehr. But to have to serve with him …”

“You’re kind because you pity me,” Mehr said. Hema looked at her, eyes flashing with unfamiliar fire.

“No, Mehr. I’m kind because it’s right. You have a hard service and you deserve the support of your sisters.” She leaned forward, gripping Mehr’s shoulder hard enough to hurt. “I’m kind because the kindness of the Maha saved me. He took me and mine from hunger and poverty and gave us hope. You may not have come from hunger, Governor’s daughter, but you have purpose now. Your life has meaning. You have meaning. Can’t you see how wonderful that is?”