Nahira had told her that when she had discovered how Mehr had used Sara, bribing her with blood for a momentary escape into the storm. She’d warned Mehr off that path, and yet here Mehr was again—hand raised, words hovering on her lips—ready to bind Amun with the insidious power of kindness.

People are not tools to be used, Lady Mehr.

Mehr had used Sara in order to try to save Lalita’s life, and however foolish that had been, she had at least had noble intentions. There would be nothing noble in manipulating Amun. She swallowed around the guilt rising in her throat. Like it or not, survival was not a noble cause. It was a necessity. Mehr would do whatever preserving her life and freedom required, fine morals be damned.

But there was no doubt in Mehr’s mind that manipulating Amun as she’d imagined would change her irrevocably. She didn’t want to be everything she hated about Maryam. Whatever choices the mystics had stolen from her, this one choice belonged wholly to her. She could be like the people who had manipulated her and used her—the mystics, the distant Maha, her stepmother—or she could be something else.

She had to find another path.

She curled her toes against the soles of her boots, grounding herself. And then she took a leap of faith.

“I think I owe you a debt, Amun,” she said carefully. “You were honest with me about your vow, and about the vow I had made. You tried to be merciful.”

She heard him turning, heard the whisper of his clothes, his breath.

“It wasn’t mercy,” Amun said. “Mercy would have been finding a way to ensure that we never wed. It was—decency. Nothing more than that.”

“Then let me pay my debt with a similar mercy,” Mehr replied quietly. “Let me be decent to you. And honest.” She clutched her knees tighter to her chest. “You’re not as good at hiding yourself as you think you are, Amun,” she said into the darkness. “Your face, and your voice—in those, you hide your feelings well. But your shoulders. Your hands …” She trailed off, remembering his hands sweeping sigils through the air. “They reveal you,” she finished. “I see it, and I believe Kalini does too. No doubt your Maha reads you just as well.” Mehr swallowed. “You shouldn’t allow yourself to be so vulnerable,” she went on. “Not to me. Not to anyone. Weakness is a temptation. Give people the opportunity to use you, and they will, I can promise you that.”

Silence.

“Do you know what it is truly like to be used?” he asked.

There was no threat in his voice. Still, she shivered.

“I know I could use what I’ve seen to truly use you,” Mehr said frankly. “But I won’t.”

“Why?” He sounded honestly curious.