My heart swelled watching her work, dampening the worry about Mirrum. We’d become a family of exiles here in Manzazu, establishing our own home. Each of us doing our own share. I’d carved out a little space in our house west of the queen’s Palace for me, Nanaea, and our little brother, Kasha, though it was filled day and night with the noise of everyone else who’d left Alu with us. I’d miss Nanaea when she eventually left me for her own marriage.

My stomach fluttered as I stood and busied my hands straightening up. I grabbed a basket and tossed discarded tunics and beads into it.

“Watch it, Nanaea!” Iltani grumbled, sipping on her cask of sweetwine, the Manzazu brew she couldn’t leave alone. “I’ll be dotted like a leper when you’re finished with me.”

Sweating, Nanaea pushed her damp black hair back from her forehead. “Stop fidgeting and you won’t get poked. This is a difficult stitch!”

Nanaea had apprenticed herself to a seamstress and was excelling in her craft, though dancing was more of her passion. But since Manzazu had dancers in droves, it made more sense for her to learn a trade that could support her. I missed the shine radiating from her eyes when she danced, though, which was happening less and less the more she worked on her craft.

Maybe one day she’d have time to return to what she loved.

Iltani bent to a table, selecting a juicy bit of fish out of some oil and popping it into her mouth.

Nanaea tugged on a seam and looked over her shoulder at Simti. “How did you get the embroidery in your tunic so perfect?”

“You forget that I’ve been sewing clothes for my family for years.” Simti bent to the looking glass, pursed her lips, and pinched her cheeks. “But not applying face paint. It isn’t blended right.”

“Didn’t Arwia say before she left this tent that nothing you do will make you any lovelier?” I stuck my basket on my hip. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the entire city.”

She blushed. “Thank you, my friend. Now come here. I need to fix something.”

I knelt, and she twisted a bud on my flower crown. “And you look beautiful today, too. You’ve slept recently, which is an improvement.” She smiled, and the gold powder that Nanaea had dusted on her brown cheeks shimmered in the candlelight.

“And you are a stellar liar.”

“Me?” She placed a hand on her chest in mock indignation. “I lie about nothing.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She grinned. “Well, perhaps only once and that was to get Ilu’s mother to love me as much as she loves Dagan. Is he here yet?”

“Yes, he walked with me from the Koru’s sickroom. Mirrum is still fighting the illness.”

Simti’s eyes softened. “You look worried. Will she heal?”

“I think so. But there’s a tincture that will hurry things along if Mudi will use it instead of just pleading with the Boatman.”