No. It was not mine. I took it, but it was never mine.

I raised my hand.

It was so hard. I wanted to charge across the room and beat her head against the stone until I saw the color of her brain for even bringing it up.

This wasn’t me. I wouldn’t become my father.

I could lie.

I crushed the thought.

“I promise that the day my father is dead or contained, I will walk away from the land I claimed.”

It hurt to say it.

“Not good enough,” Erra said. “I don’t want you to walk away. I want you to swear to never rule it. You’re a queen like your grandmother and her mother before her. Swear to me in the true language.”

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

“What’s the matter, little squirrel? Want to kill me for daring?”

Yes. Oh yes. So much.

I needed to reach deep down and find the strength to do it.

“Your land or your lover and your son. Choose.”

It wasn’t even a choice.

“I swear . . .” Each word was impossibly heavy. The room around us shook. Little chunks of mortar fell from the ceiling. “. . . to never . . .” It felt like all the ligaments in my throat would tear. The tomb shuddered. “. . . rule the land I claimed.”

It hurt so much.

“The word of Sharratum is binding,” Erra said. “So witnessed.”

The room stopped shaking.

A cool rush swept through me. Suddenly the air felt lighter.

“The Shar is a persistent bitch,” my aunt said. “Giving up the land you claimed is the first step. Watching it being taken by another is the second. Letting them live is the third. If you survive, we will do this over and over, until you reach your equilibrium or it drives you mad.”

“Thank you.” Universe help me, I meant it.

My aunt waved her hand. “Why did he let you live?”

“According to him, it’s because I’m his treasured daughter, his Blossom, the precious one, the one he loves above all others.”

I heard my own words and cracked up. Erra guffawed. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. The laughter came and came, pouring out, until I had tears in my eyes. We stood there and laughed and laughed.

“Oh, that’s good.” Erra sat on the steps. “That’s good.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so hard. My stomach hurt. I must’ve needed it.

“Why do you think he let you live?”

“I have no idea.”

“There must be something.”

“I don’t know. He tried to kill me before. He said that he loved my mother and promised her that he would give her a child like no other, but then foresaw that I would become like Kali, the destroyer of worlds, and so he tried to kill me but failed. He glossed over that part.”