“What an unusual situation to be in,” Ummi grumbled. “I’m not used to being at anyone’s mercy. I am in charge.”

“I know.” I laid a hand on her arm. “But this is temporary.”

“And necessary for the entire region.” Arwia surveyed Nanaea’s work. “For your citizens, Commander. When I’m back in the Palace, I will restore trade to the north.” She blinked, her nerves bubbling through. “Somehow.”

“We will all support and help you, Arwia.” I twisted to get at my healing satchel, which was situated strangely under my robes.

“Hold still, Lady Trader.” Nanaea knelt in front of me, lacing one of my sandals. She finished and stood.

“Lady Trader. What a sickening thought. Any woman who could give her own sisters away to be used however a man would like is a shame to all humanity.”

“But why?” Kasha asked. “If they are going to be wives? Why wouldn’t they want to be married to their husbands?” He stood next to Nanaea, his eyes wide, holding a stack of linens from which Nanaea would occasionally pull and tuck into different places on the Koru’s bodies, accentuating a hip here or adding color to bring out their eyes there.

Nanaea combed her fingers through the front of his hair. “There are things you don’t know about marriage, Brother.”

He frowned. “No?” He looked at Nanaea. “You get married and you love each other. Like Ummum and Abum.”

Nanaea met my eyes over his shoulder. “That’s not always how it works, especially if a woman is forced to take a husband she doesn’t want. Like Iltani has been.”

“Who wouldn’t want a husband?” Kasha blinked at me, and I felt my cheeks coloring as I thought of Dagan and his own question posed not that long ago.

“Some women do.” I glanced at Dagan, but though he was listening, he was studiously avoiding looking as though he was.

“But some do not.”

I looked around the trading post, a sheep’s pen in the distance catching my eye. “Think of it this way,” I explained to him, straightening the vest over my robe. “Go roll around in that pile of dung shoveled from the sheep’s pen.”

He furrowed his brow. “What? No. Gross!”

“What if your loved ones told you that the pile of dung smelled great? That you were stupid for not wanting to lie in it? And what if you didn’t have a choice? What if I made you go sleep in that pile of dung for the rest of your life?”

“That would be terrible. I would hate it.”

Nanaea met my eyes over his head as she tied a belt a little more snugly around Ummi’s waist. “That’s exactly right. And brides who are given in marriage without their consent hate it, too.”

He curled his lip in disgust. “I’m never going to marry.”

“Not all marriage is like sheep dung, Kasha. Some are like feather beds.” I ruffled his hair as Nanaea laughed, her bubbly voice diminishing some of the tension that had settled on my shoulders. From over the tops of the Koru’s heads, Dagan was watching me, holding back a hint of a smile.