“I had a choice,” Mehr said, head held high. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, take that away from her. “I chose to protect my family. I accept the consequences of that.”

“A choice like a knife at your throat is an illusion,” Amun said bluntly. “Here is the choice I was given, Lady Mehr: to marry you and bed you, or face the consequence of breaking my vow. Unbearable pain, death, eternal suffering for what remains of my soul in the aftermath. Would you call that a fair choice?”

Mehr said nothing.

“I told you that I do as I’m bid. But I do only what I’m bid. No more than that. I was ordered to wed and bed you, but I wasn’t told when to complete the bond.” Amun lowered his head. “I can’t save you from the Maha’s will,” he went on. “But I can give you time. Enough so we can grow comfortable with one another, before we are forced on each other. You understand?”

She understood.

This was as much a violation of him as of her.

She felt sick. She remembered her fear when he had lain down beside her last night. If he had been a different man—if he had been under the weight of a stricter vow—

But no. She wouldn’t think of it.

“My clothes,” Mehr said suddenly. “My—my wedding silks. No one will expect me to still be dressed. They’ll know we’ve lied.”

“Remove them, then. I’ll look away.”

“I can’t remove them on my own,” she said.

He frowned. “How did you put them on?”

“I’m a rich man’s daughter,” Mehr said, trying to hide her embarrassment. “I have servants to dress me. But wedding silks are always—unusually complicated.”

She must have seemed utterly useless to him. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her, and decided she probably wouldn’t want to know.

“Tell me what to do.” His face was blank, but the unease practically rolled off him. It did nothing to put Mehr at ease.

She directed him to unclasp the loops of cloth that bound the back of her robe together. To be forced into even this small intimacy with a man seemed ridiculous to her. Torturous.

“I can do the rest on my own,” she said. He let go immediately and walked away from her, arms crossed. Mehr slid the first layer of silk off, leaving her arms and shoulders bare. She clutched the cloth to her chest.

Amun’s prediction turned out to be correct. The maids arrived not long after with a morning meal, and took in the sight of Mehr’s state of undress with obvious pity. Kalini arrived soon after, striding past the guards at the door and the maids, giving Mehr only a brief, sidelong glance before turning her attention on Amun.

“Show me,” she ordered.