Nahira’s unwanted talk of the marriage bed had at least done Mehr the favor of dispelling her ignorance in this one matter: Newly married men wore their wife’s seal until the marriage was consummated. Once husband and wife were bound in flesh as well as soul, a man no longer needed to carry the burden of his wife’s past around his neck. A wife was a newly born creature, after all: an extension of her husband’s flesh and his will, her old self no more than a ghost for the pyre.

“We’ll be disturbed soon,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her. He was moving the seal restlessly between his fingers. The ribbon was twined around his wrist. “The feast ended hours ago.”

“Husband,” she said.

“Your maids will come. Or Kalini. Either way, you should prepare.”

“Amun. Will you listen to me?”

He looked away from her.

She grabbed his wrist. His arm tensed, all wiry sinew and hard muscle, then relaxed abruptly. The seal slithered easily into Mehr’s grip. She took it from him and laid it on the bed.

“Do you understand what removing your seal means?” Mehr asked.

“I do.”

“You want to pretend we consummated the marriage,” Mehr said quietly. Under her palm, the seal was warm from his skin. “Why?”

For a long moment Amun said nothing.

“A marriage is a twofold binding,” he said finally. “Soul and flesh. Until we consummate the marriage …” He lowered his eyes. “It would be better,” he said, “if the Maha believes he has absolute power over you, Lady Mehr, as he does over me.”

Mehr hadn’t resigned herself to being bound. She hadn’t truly accepted that it was true, scarred skin or no. Now the ground was shifting under her feet. She wasn’t sure what this meant. What he was offering her. She swallowed.

“I have the vow on my skin. Are you telling me I’m not truly bound by it?”

“It’s not complete,” he said. “You would know if it were. You’d feel it like another heartbeat.” A ghost of a smile on his lips, no joy in it. “You’d feel it burrowing.”

She covered her mouth and looked away. When she had control of herself—or a semblance of it—she turned back.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked.

“Did you want to marry me?” His gaze was intent. “When Kalini asked if you chose this match—did you want to be my wife?”

“No.” Mehr couldn’t hide the truth. She would still recant her vow if she could in a heartbeat.

“Having your will stolen from you is a violence, Lady Mehr. I chose my vows, but you …” He paused. Jaw clenched. “I don’t appreciate being used as a weapon against another human. A tribeswoman.” There was an old, deep anger in his voice. “I don’t appreciate being ordered to force myself on a woman.”