Arwia had been taken under Sarratum Tabni’s wing when we arrived, her mother being a former childhood friend. In fact, the queen had invited her to stay at the Palace, but Arwia had said she’d prefer to live with us. Sarratum Tabni had disapproved. Said it was her duty to protect the rightful queen of Alu and her friends, but I often wondered why she was so intent on it.

“I am very well, I can assure you.” I flushed, looking back at Dagan. “Thank you both.”

Her eyes twinkled. “It appears to be so. Please let us know if that changes.” Ummi turned and squinted at some noisy revelers. “Come, Humusi. We’re not needed here. And it appears we’ve a situation to attend to.” Ummi flashed a smile, exposing rows of gapped teeth, and they marched quickly away. People cleared a path as they wended through the crowd toward the commotion.

These women had given up every possibility of marriage and children to be Koru warriors, the most elite fighters in service to the sarratum. In fact, I’d witnessed one warrior removed from the Koru altogether for being caught in a man’s bed. The commitment had to be absolute, nothing to muddle their minds.

Yet tradition said I was supposed to marry. I was a young, orphaned girl with no father to put food in my stomach and clothes on my back, even though I was managing well enough on my own with my friends. But tradition also said if I did marry, my husband would be my legal guardian. He could make decisions for me. If we ever stood before a judge, he would speak for me. It was hard for me to think of entering a marriage where we wouldn’t be seen by the law as equals. He could, under the law, take everything I owned and cast me out. I couldn’t do the same. The power would not be mine as a woman.

When I was young, a man had once exercised his power with his wife, Zuzu. He’d said she was stealing the family money to squander it away. She said she was simply purchasing goods their family would need. He took her in front of Lugal Marus and had washed his hands of her. She ended up down by the well, begging for food while he remarried and another woman raised her children.

But Dagan would never do something like that, even though he could.

He was always kind, and worked hard for us. He’d been transforming the ragged patch of weeds behind our home into a plot flush with barley, which was nearing harvest any day. He’d been wanting to introduce the crop to this city, and had even told me of plans to take it to more cities in the north. Expand on it. Build a big, booming, prosperous business.

What if Dagan made good on his desires to move away from Manzazu? I was excited for him and wanted him to succeed, but if he left, that would mean I’d have to abandon the healing practice I’d been trying to build. What of my ill patients? Mirrum? Could I possibly give up everything simply for a tradition?