No doubt he could feel, just as Mehr could, that the bonds that had tied them together were broken. Mehr could sense only the barest shadow of his terrible strength, an echo of what Amun could feel passed to her through the vows they’d made to one another. Her bond to Amun ached, oh, it ached—but it reminded her, too, of why she had to be strong. It reminded her that she wasn’t the Maha’s creature any longer.

The Maha stared at Mehr silently for a long moment, an ugly tightness forming around his eyes, threatening to tear his skin clean. Kalini placed one hand on her own scabbard, and the other gently on the Maha’s arm. Her gaze on Mehr was just as flat and unwavering. It took Mehr one long, absurd moment to realize the Maha was waiting for her to kneel.

“Maha,” she said instead. “I have come to bargain.”

Behind her Abhiman snarled and strode forward. She felt him grip her arm roughly, raising the other to strike a blow. Heart hammering, Mehr forced herself not to look away from the Maha’s face. “Will you risk seeing your last weapon with a sharp edge become dulled, Maha?” she asked.

His nostrils flared. “Stop,” he ordered Abhiman. “Leave her for now.”

Abhiman paused, then released her and stepped to the side.

The Maha kept his eyes on her, as if he were afraid that if he looked away she would vanish in a puff of smoke. “So,” he said. “You think you can bargain with me?”

“I do,” Mehr said.

He took one painfully slow step toward her, pain pinching his features. Mehr watched as Kalini’s hand tightened on his arm, holding him steady. Kalini was looking up at him, her eyes full of fervent light.

“Vow yourself to me again,” the Maha said, “and you will suffer no more than you deserve.”

“I know what you think I deserve,” Mehr said calmly. “My answer is no. I have no interest in being beaten for your pleasure.” She took a step forward and watched Abhiman’s hands curl into fists from the corner of her eye. “The dreamfire will fall soon, Maha. And if you want its strength, you must bargain with me.”

“Don’t be foolish, Mehr.” The Maha’s voice was a rasp of silk. “Vow yourself to me,” he repeated. “Do what you know is right. Think of the Empire. Think of your family. Consider the consequences of your betrayal on the ones you love.”