Mehr unpinned her veil and struggled with her wedding silks. She had been dressed by multiple maids, and the costume was far too elaborate for Mehr to remove it without assistance. There was no simple sash at the waist for her to unknot. She had an inkling that Amun was supposed to help her undress. The idea of it made her stomach knot with sickened anxiety. She struggled to shift her robe just enough for her to see the mark.

It lay just above her breasts. Unlike the deep blue marks all over Amun’s skin, the scar from his seal on her chest was pale, whitish. It was an ugly thing.

She adjusted her clothes, covering the scar back up. Then she raised her head. Amun was still standing with his back to her. She was thankful for that.

She leaned forward. The sound of her wedding silks rasping against the bed made him tense visibly. His hands were clasped behind him and clenched; the muscles in his arms stood in relief.

No wonder he went to such lengths to keep himself entirely covered. His voice was a good mask, but his body was painfully expressive.

“Has the Maha done this before?” Mehr asked. “Has he bound women like me with a marriage vow in the past?”

Amun shook his head, back still turned.

“He has never needed to before,” said Amun. “And he has never had to bind a woman like you.”

A noblewoman with Ambhan and Amrithi blood. A woman who could not be stolen away without the use of a binding palatable to the nobility, a marriage sealed with a vow—yes, Mehr could imagine that there were not many women in the world like her.

“What does the Maha want me for?” Mehr asked.

Amun turned back to her. His expression was blank. She knew, without pressing, that she would get no more answers out of him tonight.

“I would like to know,” Mehr said, pressing him regardless. Amun shook his head.

“Lady Mehr, I don’t wish to speak any longer,” he said in a voice too cool, too even to be a plea. “Will you respect my wish?”

I don’t have a choice, thought Mehr. She stared at him silently as he stepped away from the wall, as he sat down on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes without looking at her.

“You must be tired,” he said. “The night has been long. You should sleep.”

Mehr was tired, it was true. She didn’t know how the nobles had found the energy to continue celebrating. Even when she and Amun had left, their wedding guests had been deep into their cups and in a bright and glorious mood. But even tired as she was, she didn’t really believe she would be able to sleep. Her mind was too full, her heart was far too heavy.