Akkad was mourning. All throughout the streets, people were walking barefoot, wearing rags instead of their usual clothes. Manishtushu and I were dressed no different from the beggars on the street. His golden crown and my horned one now carried in our dust covered hands. Because of the fate decreed for father and mother, because they had started their journey to the Land of no return, we wept bitterly in the broad avenues where people once celebrated.

Idal and Dingira begged to join me in Akkad, but I refused. I needed them in Ur. For even though Kituzda had called upon my brother's aid and informed me, as she should, a part of me still didn't trust her.

Our once pristine castle was dark, the wailing of the city echoing through the corridors. Gusts of wind stirred up the layer of sand and dust that covered the tiled floors. This felt nothing like my home. Nothing like the place I grew up in. It was cold, hostile, and smelled of death.

We found Rimush sitting next to the sandstone gate towards the garden. His feet were covered with mud, his tunic a matted black and his unkept beard and dishevelled hair giving him the appearance of a man far beyond his years. In the afternoon's glow, he somewhat resembled father and I couldn't help but tears up again.

"Sweet sister," Rimush held out his arms, patting my uncombed hair as I embraced him. "I am so relieved that you are here with us. Mother, she cried out for you when–" He stopped mid-sentence, the tears in his eyes telling the story when his words could not. I didn't need to know. I didn't want to know of their last moments. Let me relish the memories I had of them, full of life and love. For it was those memories that gave me strength in this very moment where the sadness seemed too overwhelming to bear.

"Where are they now? May I see them?" I asked Rimush through tear-stained eyes.

He nodded, taking my hand and leading me to the room where the separation and preparation rites had to be performed. As soon as I entered the room, the priest whipping off my mother's face with purified bread shot up. "High priestess Enheduanna? You may not enter here, my Great Lady. It is crucial that the separation ritual is done undisturbed to release and prepare the ghost for the journey to the netherworld."

"Hold your tongue, priest. She is a princess of Akkad and the blood of your king. If I say she may enter, then she may enter as she pleases." Rimush said with a tone that mimicked father's.

The priest nodded and backed away from the funeral beds. I approached the bed where mother lay. Her golden skin was pale, pieces of her umber hair were thorn out and partially still clutched in her slender hands. Grief had consumed her, driven her to this self-mutilated state in which she lay before me. Picking up the piece of bread, I tenderly tapped it across her skin, humming her lullaby as her skin was purified. After which they anointed her body with perfumed oils. I glanced to the bed where my father's body lay, anointed, and his eyes already covered by two white pearls.

The priest cleared his throat, "may I inlay the queen's eyes as well, my lady?"

I looked at her once more, adorned with all the jewels she had been wearing the night I was chosen. "One moment. I wish to lament."

"My parents, ones who gave me life. As they came, they went. But now that I came, I will always come. You have eyes but no longer see me. You have mouths but no longer converse with me. Ones who gave me life. You have entered the heart of the mountain, the dark house of which you cannot leave. But know that you will always stay within my heart and soul, for without you I wouldn't be alive." I said, sputtering through my tears.

The priest lay two shiny pearls upon the queen's eyes and with that, it was final. "Our king and queen are ready for the Taklimtum, my king." The priest said, waiting until Rimush gave him permission to start the procession.

Rimush remained by my side as we followed the funeral beds down the corridors. "That lament was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. You must recite it in public. Let our people know the depths of our grief." He said.

But the idea of repeating those words in front of other people appalled me. Those words were for my parents. I wanted only them to hear it, not everyone else. These were my feelings, but as soon as the troops walked beside their dead king, crying as they followed him, I realized that my family was a part of the people. We led them, fed them. We had to be strong when they could not, so my lament was theirs as well. No matter how bitter that idea tasted in my mouth, I knew it to be true.

More and more people joined us in the streets, wailing, throwing flowers and fruits upon king Sargon's bed as his mourning troops surrounded him and guided him out of the city of Ur towards the steppe. As we reached the graves, father's bed was covered with a mountain of offerings, yet the queen's bed remained empty. Plucking a desert rose, I placed it upon mother's heart as the soldiers placed their dead king in his grave beside a chariot and two donkeys, along with more burial offerings than I could count. His funeral bed stood behind the grave with the mountain of offering still upon it. Next, mother was lowered into her own grave, filled just as splendidly with burial offerings but an almost empty funeral bed behind her, save for my single rose.

I recited my lament as we gave their bodies back to the earth, starting their journey towards the underworld. The priest lid the funeral bed aflame, father's blazing so heavily it's smoke darkened the sky. While mother's, the final bed upon which the queen of queens had laid smouldered to ash without a bright flame.

On our way back to the palace, I couldn't shake the image of my mother's empty funeral bed. My father's name was carved in every clay tablet; his words and actions will be remembered for centuries.

Glancing towards my brothers, there was no doubt in my mind that they would follow in his footsteps, having their heroisms immortalized with their names, sons of the mightiest king that ever lived.

But my mother, the woman who raised those boys, was but an image standing in my father's shadow. Her name was not carved on any tablet, nor were her deeds remembered. As we passed our parents' portraits carved upon the palace walls, I realized that even her portrait was nameless.

Is that to be my faith? To go down in history as a mere image on a wall?

The notion reminded me of the former high priestess of Lagash, whose final hymn had moved Idal's heart. Those were her words that echoed the temple even after she died. But who would ever know that if they didn't know her name?

"Enheduanna," Manishtushu snapped me back from my thoughts. "Rimush asked to see you in the throne room. He has matters to attend to."

I furrowed my brows. "With me?"

Manishtushu smiled in that way only he could. That warm smile that resembled mother's. "Will you go ahead without me? I have to see if Ibarum is alright."

I nodded and watched my brother until he was out of sight before taking one long glance at mother's likeness upon the wall. "I will pray for you, queen Tashlultum of Akkad."

Rimush sat upon father's throne, once again reminding me of their likeness. He was still wearing his mourning robes, but his entire posture was different; more powerful and calculating. "Sweet sister, I'm so glad you could come so quickly."

"You had matters to discuss with me?"

"I do. As you probably know, there have been numerous uprisings in the Sumerian city states as the news of Sargon's death spread. The lords and former kings think that without father, things can go back to their Sumerian ways."

I nodded. "That was also the case in Ur. But I am sure that father's troops can handle that. Manishtushu had Ur free within a day."

"Manishtushu can't be everywhere at once. Neither can I, we need to forge a deeper bond with the lords. One that will secure their loyalty to our family."

Watching his jaw clench as he spoke, his grip tightening on the throne, made me more wary of what he was implying. Cocking my head to the side, I watched him more closely as he cleared his throat.

"Manishtushu and I have already found suitable daughters from some of the most powerful Lugal's in the kingdom to take as our brides. Ibarum will follow when he is of age and I already have a girl in Lagash picked out for him. But if you will marry–"

"No," I replied without hesitation. The idea alone was enough to make my blood boil, each breath feeling like I was blowing out steam.

"Be reasonable," Rimush started, but I bulled right over him. "Reasonable? What about this seems reasonable to you! I am Enheduanna, high priestess of Nanna. Not some cow you can just give to any boorish bull for breeding."

"I am your king and your brother. You will do as I command." Rimush spit back, his face glowing bright red.

"You might be a king, but you are still at the mercy of the gods."

The creaking of the door broke the tension that lay upon the room as Manishtushu entered, eyes bouncing between Rimush and me with widened worry.

"Can you believe this?" Rimush said to Manishtushu with a snort, "our own sister will not even help us obtain peace within Akkad."

My hands itched to slap him across the face for his insolence. As his sister, I had every right to do so, especially with the way he soiled my honour right now. But he was a king, and I was a high priestess. These were the roles we must play, even though he seemed to forget that.

"I will help you obtain peace within Akkad in any way I can as a high priestess, my king. Starting by advising you not to wed Ibarum to a lady in Lagash. The city owes its current livelihood to me. They are loyal to me, and thus to you, my king."

Rimush was now slamming his fist upon the armrest. "But that loyalty will fade. If you marry a Lugal, they become family. That is a far more stable loyalty than a favour."

"Brother," Manishtushu interrupted, "I agree with your reasoning. But you cannot marry Enheduanna. She is already married to a god through the sacred Giparu. Bedding a mortal man would be a betrayal to Nanna himself."

"And it is not what I want," I added.

"Who cares what you want. You are just a woman." Rimush yelled. His words died within the air as I narrowed my eyes upon the face of a man I once called brother. If my blood had been boiling earlier, it was certainly overflowing now and all could see it. I balled my fist and stepped forward, making sure to see Rimush flinch if only for a moment before turning on my heels and walking straight out of the palace.

I should never be remembered according to the laws of men. Silent, like my gender ought to be.

But I was not silent.

I will never be silent, for my words scream louder than any voice through my writings.

Let Akkad hear me roar.