Akitu went on around her as if nothing had happened. As though all she thought she had achieved in the past year hadn't just been torn down around her ears.

The following day, Samsu made no reference to anything he had said or done. Statues of gods arrived by boat from all over the empire to accompany that of Marduk's son, Nabu, in his mission to free his father.

Eliana did not fully understand it, but the tradition went that Marduk had been imprisoned by evil gods, led by Tiamat, after renewing his favour upon Babylon, and awaited rescue by his son and an alliance of other brave gods.

She was forced to walk with Samsu back to Esagila at the head of a huge procession of citizens, carrying the statues of the gods, led by Nabu, and chanting, 'here's he who comes from afar to restore the glory of our imprisoned father!'

People stared at her as she passed, her two black eyes shining like beacons, the bruising purpled and swollen. She cringed with the shame of it – to have to appear in public in this state. The people would be in no doubt as to who had caused the damage; they would certainly be wondering what she had done to provoke him to it. The markets would be full of slanderous gossip before sunset.

And this was only the sixth day – Akitu was only half complete.

On the seventh day, a mock-battle took place at the gates of Esagila, which the king and queen were required to attend. Inside the temple complex, the evil gods swirled and chanted as they protected their precious quarry – the high priest, once again in the guise of Marduk, fought them tirelessly. He was surprisingly nimble for an old man, Eliana thought. Outside the barred gates, the hero gods worked to batter their way inside.

The gates burst open, the heroes streamed inside. A tremendous choreographed battle ensued – statues of the gods swaying, embellished costumes of their handlers fluttering in the breeze and sparkling in the hot sun.

Eliana wiped her brow as sweat trickled down her face from underneath her heavy headdress. Her neck ached ceaselessly – whether from the weight of the crown or the force of yesterday's blows to the face, she could not say. She only knew that her head hurt, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep in a cool, dark room with her babies.

She had barely seen the children since her arrival in Babylon, and the hectic schedule of the festival fortnight left little time for visiting. It felt as though someone had cut off one of her arms – like she was missing a fundamental part of herself. Mari sent regular reports of her babies, but it was not the same as holding them every day.

A great cheer went up from the crowd as the evil gods were overcome and, one by one, fell to the ground. Nabu emerged victorious, freeing the mighty Marduk from his imprisonment; finally, she was free to return to the palace.

The festivities seemed never-ending. On the eighth day, the entire court was required to gather in Ubshu-Ukkina, the Hall of Destinies, where the 'gods' deliberated between themselves and decided to join all their forces together and bestow them upon Marduk. Samsu implored each of them in turn to support and honour Marduk, supreme commander of the gods and wielder of all their powers. The great god was unique in his position – receiving submission from all the others as recognition of his strength.

The victory of Marduk over Tiamat was celebrated the following day, in yet another procession. This time to the House of Akitu, outside the city walls. The squat stone temple was immaculately kept, with trees carefully cultivated and beautifully laid out to show respect to the god who granted life to nature. The procession was a joyful one, but Eliana felt oppressed by the dark forces that they celebrated the supposed destruction of.

There was a feast at the House of Akitu on the tenth day; to add insult to injury, Eliana was not only required to attend, but was demoted from her place at Samsu's side. She sat in silence throughout, seething and eating nothing, arrayed as a queen, but looking for all the world like she was severely out of Samsu's favour, with her bruises and her lowly position at the table.

It was all part of the ritual, Asag had explained. The tables were arranged around the statues of the gods as at a wedding feast, and Marduk, in the person of Samsu, was to marry the goddess Ishtar, in the person of the highest priestess of Esagila, a noble girl from a Babylonian family.

Eliana had been forced to watch their 'marriage' ceremony earlier that day – she loathed her husband, but there was no joy in watching him stand beside a lithe and nubile girl who looked up at him with such puppy-like devotion that he almost smiled at her.

The pair recited love poems before an assembled congregation, and sealed the union with a chaste kiss. It was this noble girl who sat on a throne beside Samsu tonight. The love between Marduk and Ishtar symbolised a union of heaven and earth, and would bring forth life when the new crop of barley was planted.

Samsu directed smug glances at Eliana throughout the evening, watching carefully to see if she exhibited any signs of jealousy. She did not attempt to curb her sulkiness – if he perceived it as jealousy, perhaps he would begin to believe that she loved him after all. It had not taken her long, as she sobbed herself to sleep the night of his attack, to decide that if his believing that she loved him would ensure the safety of her children, it was a small price to pay. He could believe whatever he liked – it would not make it true.

The priestess sat to Samsu's right. To his left... Ashan.

Her stomach somersaulted every time she looked at him. She could break off their love with words, but never in her heart. His tousled hair fell about his sun-bronzed face, his teeth gleaming white in his easy smile. He ate and drank as though he had not a care in the world.

She masked her own pain, pretending not to notice him, unsure if he had even seen her. Perhaps he hadn't recognised her, displaced from her position and with her face swollen and disfigured. It was a heartbreaking thought.

The final ritual took place the following day, as the gods met again in the Hall of Destiny to decide the fates of the people of Babylon. The happiness of the gods could not be complete if their servants, the humans, were not happy. After much stilted and scripted speech-making, it was decided that a human's destiny was to be happy, on condition that they served the gods. With this decision, Marduk's covenant with Babylon was renewed, and he was able to return to his house in the heavens.

For the first time, Eliana wondered if she was serving the wrong gods. Perhaps Marduk was superior to Enlil. If her destiny was to be happy as long as she served the gods, she was failing in her duties to them somewhere, that much was evident. It was time to add a Babylonian goddess to her prayers. If Ninlil could no longer protect her in this foreign land, perhaps Ishtar would take pity on her.

She breathed a deep sigh of relief as, on the twelfth and final day, the statues of the gods were taken down to the boats to be returned to their own temples, and daily life could resume at last.

It was bliss to spend a few days in her apartments, visiting the nursery and watching the children grow. Sarri was a little beauty now, imperious and demanding, but fiercely protective of her fragile baby sister and utterly fascinated by the twin babies. Eliana spent hours each day, playing with her and holding and talking to the others. Between her, Mari and Tabi, there were plenty of hands to see to the children's needs now.

Her bruises had almost healed and her tranquillity almost returned within a week of the end of Akitu. She had not seen Samsu, not been summoned by him, not been required to leave her apartments.

The respite was temporary, she knew, but she was grateful for it. She had begun to include Ishtar in her daily prayer ritual – perhaps the love goddess had something to do with it.

When he eventually visited, he took her entirely by surprise, bursting in while she crouched on the floor with Sarri, playing with a little cloth doll.

'Karkittu!' he barked.

She leapt to her feet as though pricked by a dagger. 'Yes, sir?'

'You will attend audience with me tomorrow. Emissaries are arriving from Nippur – I would have you hear what they have to say.'

'Yes, sir.'

'And do you have anything else to say?'

She looked at him quizzically. 'No, sir. Should I?'

'Well, you were so talkative at our last meeting, I wondered if you had decided to reconsider any of your words.'

'Oh, yes,' she thought quickly, trying to pull the right falsities into her mind, searching for the words that would satisfy him. 'I spoke rashly, of course. I was strained and tired. My... my great affection for you cannot be overstated. You are right, you have given me everything, and I have no wish but to please you in every way I can – though I can never sufficiently repay you for all you have done.'

At least the very last part was true, she thought.

Samsu nodded, grunted his satisfaction and left without another word.

Relief washed over her like a cooling breeze. The man may profess a desire to hear the truth, to hear things as they were and drink his medicine with no sweetening, but he was as shallow and foolish as any – only interested in hearing of his own importance.

It was a lesson she would not soon forget. She had told him what was in her heart when he had said he wanted the truth, and the punishment had been severe. Flattery and beguiling words were all he wanted.

She got back to the floor and resumed her game with Sarri, wondering what her father's emissaries would have to report tomorrow.