“Of course I looked. There’s nothing else in there, or I would have saved myself the trouble.”

Besides, I wasn’t even completely sure what the Boatman had been trying to tell me. I didn’t really believe in Mudi’s theories, and couldn’t even swear it was a bottle in his hands. I closed my eyes in frustration, and when I opened them, Gala, Dagan’s friend, had joined the guardsmen and ordered a young bride next to Iltani to move over.

“What is Gala doing here?”

“When we crossed into the gate, I heard him say he was going to the gifting.”

“Why would they need Gala? I’ve counted at least fifty guardsmen in the Libbu alone.”

Beneath his filthy grime, Dagan’s face bloomed red. “He’s not here to work. He…ah…well?” He scratched his neck. “He…wants a wife. From what I overheard him saying to the other guardsman as we slipped through the gate, no one he’s asked will give them their daughters without a considerable bride price. He doesn’t have the coins to pay much.” The last words came out in a mumbled rush, and his face reddened even brighter beneath his filth.

My eyes bulged. “So he’ll simply choose a bride this day, one who is placed against her will? Will he choose Iltani? Did you tell him you knew her and not to take her? He’s never seen her face! She’s been covered every time we’ve gone through the gate.”

Dagan looked down at his hands. “I couldn’t say anything without risking us. I didn’t know the other guardsman. Gala was joking and laughing like a big man about getting a bride with none of the price, to draw attention away from us as we went by.” He played with the frayed edge of his tunic. “Perhaps another beauty will capture his attention more, and at least that girl would be getting a fine man for a husband instead of someone else who would treat her poorly. Gala is a good person at heart.”

“Do you hear the words that are coming from your mouth?” Blinking, indignation rising in my chest, I fought to keep my composure. He didn’t understand.

“That came out wrong. I know this is terrible. But whoever Gala chooses will get a kind husband. He’ll try to love her. I know he will.”

I gritted my teeth at his lack of comprehension. Why couldn’t the women choose whom they wanted to marry? How would the men feel if the roles were reversed? If boys were up there on the dais while women vied for their hands? Guilt crept along my spine because I was currently in the position to choose and most of my fellow women were not. Dagan was at my side, begging to marry me, and I loved him.

So why was I so unwilling to give him an answer?

Look around.

The women were going to be owned by the men who selected them. And even though Dagan wasn’t any kind of man like that to me, the thought that he would lawfully be my keeper would not shake free from my head. That must be it. Because the other parts of marriage—save the children that could inevitably come—I welcomed. But I didn’t want to be owned by anyone. Not even by the man I loved with everything inside me.