“Sisters, girls, all of you. You’re wanted by the priestess. It’s dusk.” He swiped a cup of sweetwine off a table, dancing out of reach when I tried to grab it back. “It’s time!”
Simti grabbed me by both shoulders and looked me straight in the eye. “Now you’re going to wipe that worry line away.” She ran her finger between my eyebrows. “This wedding is a joyous occasion.”
I softened my forehead. Relaxed my shoulders. “I’m happy for you, Simti. I just worry about Mirrum. And I’ll miss you around our house.”
Simti shared the bedchamber with Arwia and Iltani. Huna used to share it as well, but she’d sickened and died from an infection she wouldn’t let me treat. She’d never forgiven me for pulling her away from the riches and glory she’d expected in the afterlife.
Her eyes glistened. “And I’ll miss you, too. All of you.”
Iltani hauled us both to our feet, her warm brown eyes glassy, a smirk on her dimpled face. “You know what I don’t miss? Our old rotten city of Alu. That pisspot. Coming here was the best decision I’ve ever made and praise be to Selu—I mean, Linaza—for that. I was a rat in that city. Here, I’m happy and feast like the goddess I am.”
“Iltani, you wouldn’t drink yourself into a stupor every night if you were happy.”
“Spoken like a woman who can’t hold her brew.” Iltani’s eyes dimmed for a moment before she tossed back the rest of her drink. “I couldn’t be happier to leave the stink of Alu behind.”
“Liar,” Nanaea said, shrugging out of her sweaty clothes.
She wiped herself down, and pulled on a tunic as blue as a summer sky, one that matched my ummum’s shawl tucked around her elbows. Stooping to eyeball herself critically in the looking glass, she smeared a dab of red on her lips, and topped it all off with a copper circlet on her shiny black hair.
“Now, that is the fastest I have ever made myself look presentable, so I expect your gratitude, Simti.”
Nanaea approached, enveloping all of us in the scent of her rose oil. She draped one arm around my shoulders, and another around Simti, pulling the four of us into a tight, humid huddle.
“My family, this is a day to be joyful. We’ve certainly earned it.”
We all squeezed one another, tears sparking in our eyes, connecting as friends who’ve found sisters outside of blood can. As sisters who have escaped death a time or two can. All we were missing was Arwia, who was no doubt somewhere outside the tent, making sure everything was perfect for Simti.
Savoring our sisterhood, I smiled at each one in turn. Our climb from the tomb was wasted—wasted—if a young woman struggling to heal wouldn’t leave my thoughts long enough to enjoy this night. After a moment, I kissed Nanaea’s cheek.
“You’re absolutely right, Nanaea. Let’s go to a wedding and celebrate.”
We all cheered and went in for another hug, squealing and dancing around in a circle. My heart beat with butterfly’s wings, certain I might burst from nerves or happiness or both.
“Come on!” Kasha held open the flaps of the tent, so we followed him into the dusk, toward a wedding that would be filled with love and promise and joy.
To be followed by a life of more of the same.
* * *
The sun dipped low, hovering above the horizon, casting a pink glow over the olive grove. Tents dotted the courtyard, ringed by torches scented with frankincense. Wooden tables full of Manzazu food—syrupy fruits, fish poached in oil, fire-roasted vegetables—were nestled inside each.
People sipped chilled sweetwine, and swayed to the lyres on either side of the path that led to the dais where the ceremony would take place. Kasha horsed around with a group of boys poking each other and making googly eyes. Dagan stood in the center of the platform with Ilu, Simti’s bridegroom. He and his parents had become a sort of family to us, and we were repaying the favor by standing up in support of their union.
My heart thrumming madly, I lined up with Nanaea, Iltani, Simti, while we all whispered encouragement and final instructions to one another as the musicians played.
Simti, the bride, was first. She beamed as she turned toward her husband-to-be and began to dance down the narrow path toward him. Her red tunic flowed over her curves as she clapped her hands and swayed. The crowd tossed flower petals into the air and knocked their cups together to toast her health.
Nanaea went next, gracefully twisting and whirling to the rhythm, until she reached the platform and climbed the stairs to join Simti. Iltani downed the rest of her sweetwine and gyrated down the aisle after her, wobbly on her bare feet, doing her own version of Nanaea’s dance with much less grace and a lot more leg.
The smoke from the lit torches choked me as I squared my shoulders and stared down the aisle. The thought of dancing even a little bit in front of a crowd made me feel as naked as a freshly plucked bird. I was not graceful. Not by anyone’s definition of the word. But I took a deep breath and swayed down the aisle as best as I could, my cheeks flaming hot up to my ears. When I reached the dais, Dagan reached for me with a calloused hand, worn from the mattock and plow, and the warmth of his palm pressed to mine made me forget all about my embarrassment.
As I stepped up, he pulled me close and kissed my forehead.
“You are stunning, Oh Great Dancing A-zu.” He grinned.
“Stop it. That was the clumsiest thing you’ve ever witnessed.” I blushed. “You are stunning, too, of course.”
I took in his handsome features. The divot above his lip that made it impossible not to kiss him. The rough smudge of beard on his jaw, now beginning to thicken. The black eyebrows that framed his dark lashes so well. My love. My heart swelled. We’d made each other happy here in Manzazu.
Dagan wrapped an arm around me. He bent down, his lips against my ear. “My sweet, you’re not nervous, are you?”
“About Simti? No. Why would I be?”
I looked at him, and the earnestness in his amber eyes made me squirm. He ran a finger down my chin, but pressed his lips together. Tight. Took a deep breath.
“Because,” he started, his words tumbling out of his mouth quickly, “these last moons have been the best of my life. Living underneath one roof with you and everyone else. Caring for all of us together has brought me the greatest joy I’ve ever had.” He tapped his fingers on my arm.
“Dagan, they’re about to start. What is it?” I whispered, my eyes on the priestess ascending the platform, a ceremonial bowl of sweetwine in her weathered hands.
He cleared his throat. “What I am saying to you is—”