“Oh! I didn’t mean to interrupt, Sister.”
But the twinkle in her eye made me strongly suspicious that she did. She leaned across his stall, and her tunic draped open, exposing ample cleavage.
“Ahhh, Nanaea. How are you this fine morning?” Dagan studiously avoided looking down her tunic, staring into a basket of emmer wheat as if the mysteries of life could be found within.
“I’m fine, as always. Thank you for asking.” She shot him a grin, smoothing a shiny curl away from her face. It didn’t matter that she was dressed in rags. Her beauty needed no adornment.
“Nanaea was just leaving. Weren’t you, Nanaea?” Iltani stared hard at my sister.
She blinked, wide-eyed, back at Iltani. “What did I do?”
“Don’t play innocent with me,” Iltani began, but I interrupted her. I didn’t need any of this back-and-forth. I needed food, and I needed it now. My stomach ached with emptiness, and I was certain Nanaea was starving, too. She hadn’t had anything to eat since yesterday afternoon, unless she’d gotten a free meal somewhere.
Dagan, busying his hands, scooped a flagon into a bucket of water, then tipped back his head and drank deeply. I watched his throat move with every swallow, wondering what it would feel like to lay my lips there. Heat rose to my cheeks.
He finished the last of the water and offered the cup to me. I shook my head.
“Are you so afraid to drink after me?” He smirked. “You’ve eaten mud right out of my hand before, so don’t think of yourself too highly.”
I smiled, remembering the day he was talking about. He’d dared me to taste the mud on the banks of the Garadun, and after I’d done it, I’d shoved a whole handful into his mouth. We’d both had grit stuck between our teeth for the rest of the day. “I’m not afraid of you. You know that.”
His wide smile softened a bit. “It seems as if you are. You’ve stayed away almost this whole moon.” He searched my eyes, his hurt showing plainly.
But how could I explain my absence? That the honor of our presumed betrothal felt a little like he was granting me a favor I hadn’t really asked for? That my abum kept me so busy these days I was barely sleeping? That the reminder of those lazy days of just enjoying a basket of figs under the shade of a palm tree with him was like a knife in the gut when the weight of the world was crushing me?
I was spared the difficulty of an answer by a wealthy woman shoving past us to order some emmer, paying no mind that I was there to do the same. Filling a small linen bag with the grain, Dagan handed it to the woman, who dropped a whole mina into his outstretched palm. She turned and strode away but not before looking down her nose at us. I ignored the slight, but Nanaea’s face fell. I squeezed her hand as my stomach growled loudly again.
“Dagan, can you give us a fair price on the barley?”
“Yes,” Iltani piped up. “And add in a small—very small—sack of emmer, some honey, and maybe some of the watercress? You could toss in a few honeycakes as well.” She grinned widely enough to show all her teeth. “For the privilege of serving us.” She produced three shekels. Far too little for what she was asking.
Dagan scratched his beard, round eyes going back and forth between Iltani and me. “Of course, but you don’t have to buy it. Don’t be silly. My family is happy to give it to you.”
I bristled. “Because we are lowly? And can’t take care of our own?” My response came out sharper than I intended, the rich woman’s disdain like a nettle under my skin.
Dagan stilled. “No. That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, what did you mean?”
“You are my—my”—he placed a hand over his heart, his face growing earnest—“my friend. And you have been forever. I just don’t understand why you’re upset with me. I’m trying to help.”
“I know that. And I’m not upset with you.” I sighed heavily. “I’m…tired, I think.” And as soon as I said it, the enormity of my exhaustion hit me like a fist. I wasn’t just tired. I was weary. Too weary even for this conversation. “Dagan, I must apologize, but I have to go about my day. I need to check on my abum. Come, Iltani. Let’s move on before the crowd thickens for the Sacred Maidens.” I dipped my head away from the hurt in his eyes to find Nanaea studying me quizzically. I knew Dagan’s intentions were pure. I didn’t need her silent accusations. Nevertheless, it wasn’t his job to support me or my family, even if he wanted to help.
Nanaea shook her head, her long curls springing out in every direction. Her hair was as black as my father’s. I’d taken on more of my mother’s coloring, with warmer brunette hair and golden-brown eyes.
“Who cares if someone gives you a gift? Isn’t it nice not to have to toil away day after day for a change? Get back to a little bit of normalcy?” Nanaea asked.
“Is that how you got those bracelets? Someone gave them to you? What do you think the merchant will want in return, Sister? Nothing is free.”
She knotted her brow in annoyance, then turned away.
She was so naïve sometimes. Then again, she hadn’t been the one to instantly have to grow up when hearing my mother’s last words.
Suddenly, the town crier’s horn pierced through the Palace Libbu. Heads turned toward the sound. Faces all around me grew excited as babble grew in fervor. Merchants quickly closed up shop, dropping draperies across their stalls and sealing things up tight.
“It’s time, Sister!” Nanaea squealed, grabbing my arm. Her two friends ran off and got lost in the crowd. “The Sacred Maidens are going to be chosen!”
I rubbed my aching eyes and sighed heavily.
Iltani nudged me. “At least it will be entertaining.”
“Iltani’s right. Come on. Have some fun for once in your life. We never get to do anything like this anymore! Don’t you remember the beauty of our old life? How fun it used to be to attend festivities?” Nanaea bounced up and down, biting her lip. “The dancers will be there, and maybe even the fire throwers!”
“Fine.” I couldn’t take this away from her after everything else she’d lost.
“Well, not before you get this.” Dagan scooped some barley into a bag, twisted it closed, and shoved it into my healing satchel before I could refuse. Iltani sent me a look that tamped down any argument.
He sealed his barrels of grain and stepped out from the stall. He wore freshly cut sandals and a crisp jade-colored tunic. He tied his money purse onto the belt at his waist, right next to a long, sharp dagger encrusted with emeralds at the hilt. No one would dare steal from him.