Their month of freedom passed in blissful peace. In the absence of Samsu's shadow, Kisha recovered from the birth and pulled out of her pit of depression. With her mother rosy and happy again, Sarri was thriving, and the four girls could finally make a harmonious home, free from fear.

Eliana had adopted a little corner of the garden for her own, and spent several hours a day out there, cultivating the herbs that Mari used most often, and growing mustard and garlic for seasoning at their own dining table.

During those hours spent alone with the plants, with only her thoughts for company, Ashan's visit played constantly on her mind.

While the days passed in pleasurable contentment for Sarri, Kisha and Mari, Eliana was reliving Ashan's kiss, dreaming of his powerful arms around her and the safety she had felt there. As she remembered, all the sensations would come flooding back, tinged with the agony of knowing that it could never happen again. Uselessly, she found herself imagining ways in which they could be together: trysts, secrets and lies – all the villainy that Ashan could never consent to if it compromised his honour.

The scenario that came back to her over and over was the one in which Samsu contracted a fever or was assassinated before he ever made it back through Nippur's gates. She knew it was just a dream, but it was not beyond the realms of possibility, and so it gave her comfort all the same.

She still cringed a little, remembering the fury in Ashan's eyes as he realised what he had said, in the same breath as he declared his loyalty to Samsu. Her heart was torn – she delighted in his admission of love, revelling in the feeling of being wanted and cared for by one other than her own blood; and she was irritated with him, too, for giving her a hope that could never be realised, a longing that placed them both in danger.

Most of all, she wanted to confront him about his own anger – was he annoyed with himself for saying something untrue in the heat of the moment? Perhaps he did not love her at all, only lusted after her.

She needed to know, if she was ever to sleep soundly again.

But Ashan was cleverly avoiding being in her presence. He timed his visits to Kisha and the baby when Eliana was down at the bathhouse, or out tending her garden. Once or twice, and she might have believed it to be a coincidence, but once or twice a week for a full moon was more than mere luck on his part. She was convinced that he had set a spy to watch the apartments.

Despite her fervent longing, however, Eliana wasn't entirely given to pining. She had plenty of hours to spare, and devoted a number of them to Ashan's revelation that Samsu admired her.

She had been shocked beyond words to learn what he had said about her, although part of her wondered how much he truly admired her, and how much was just exaggeration for the sake of shaming the coward. She could well imagine him shouting into the poor man's face: 'you call yourself a soldier? My whore has more courage than you! If she were a man, I would have her in your place.'

Words meant to humiliate one, rather than to praise the other.

But still, she meant to take the insight and use it to her own advantage, if she could. There would be a fine line to tread between maintaining his admiration, and not earning herself further punishment that might leave permanent damage.

The way to keep her little family safe was undoubtedly with absolute compliance – but she was determined to balance obedience with her pride. If she could only keep Samsu's admiration, there was a chance, however small, that she might soften him a little. His good opinion and goodwill meant nothing at all to her ego, but everything to the wellbeing of her new family.

She resolved to do as he asked, but never with willingness or good grace. He would always know that she was under duress, and if he ever hoped to win her admiration in return, he was as deluded as the Brute was vicious.

Eliana confided nothing of Ashan's visit to Kisha or Mari. Her sister would be horrified, she knew, and would likely try to keep her away from him altogether. Even the vaguest suggestion of affection between the two would be enough to put everyone in the household at risk, and Kisha would do anything to protect her child. Once, she could have gone to her sister with anything, but Kisha had new priorities now.

She could not confess anything to Mari, either. Though the maid would happily gossip about Ashan, Mari would counsel caution, tell her to put her feelings aside – as if it were that easy! And quite aside from that, Eliana suspected that Mari had her own passion for Ashan.

No, she kept the memories sacred, locking them away in the recesses of her mind and bringing them out to pore over in her private moments – hugging the precious hope and comfort to herself.

After four weeks of torturing herself with desire and constantly seeking even as much as a glimpse of him, Eliana decided that he would avoid her no longer. She would not sit around and simper like a merchant's daughter – she had been raised an Ensi's daughter, and taught to be forthright and direct.

The image of the anger on his face haunted her – she must know if she had somehow destroyed the tender shoot of his affection instead of nurturing it. She must clear the air.

But first, she must know where to find him.

'Mari!' Eliana beckoned her over. 'Do you know what is actually going on in the palace at the moment?'

'Business is much the same as usual,' Mari wiped her hands on her apron as she finished mixing up a tincture for colic. 'Only Ashan holds the audiences and makes the decisions in Samsu's place.'

'But... what does he actually do?' Eliana persisted. 'I have lived here for almost three moons now, and I still don't know what happens inside the palace.'

'Oh – I'd have thought your father would have enlightened you on all that!'

'No, no,' lied Eliana. 'He kept most of the politics away from his daughters.' In actual fact, Adab had often discussed affairs of state with Eliana. Kisha had shown little interest, but his youngest daughter was bright and enquiring, and had a way of looking at the world with fresh eyes, solving problems in ways he never could have imagined.

'As I understand it, Ashan is an early riser. He gets up when Utu does, and sees to himself. Then two hours after dawn, the politics begin. There are council meetings, city inspections, consultations with the Ensi, petitioners, audiences... all the usual things that keep a huge place like this running, I suppose.'

Eliana nodded, looking eager and interested. Mari had told her all she needed to know.

The next morning, she rose in the pre-dawn haze, threw on her clothes and crept from the apartments, praying that Sarri would not wake in her absence.

Making her way down to the men's bathhouse, she found a discreet hiding place in an alcove near the entrance. She secreted herself inside and waited, her heart pounding so loudly that she was sure it would give her away.

An eternity later, as Utu's first rays lightened the sky with a rosy tint, she heard the sound of bootheels on tiles. She froze, pressing herself back into the niche, waiting.

The man flashed past so quickly that she could not be sure it was him. Leaning out, she recognised his hair and build from behind and ran silently after him.

She caught his wrist, 'Ashan!'

With snake-like reflexes, he twisted on the spot, grabbing the hand from his arm and forcing it into a painful lock behind her. At the same time, a blade appeared at her throat.

He recognised her almost immediately. Swearing, he let her go, snatched up her hand and dragged her back into the recess she had pounced from.

The space was small, and they were almost pressed up against each other. She rubbed at the thin line his blade had left on her neck.

He breathed hard as he looked down at her, trying to bring his heart rate under control. 'What did you think you were doing?' he hissed furiously. 'I could have killed you!'

'I had no idea you wore a dagger to the bathhouse,' countered Eliana.

'I wear a dagger everywhere. Why are you down here? You and I have nothing more to say to each other.'

'Actually, we have a great deal to say to each other!' her anger rose to match his. 'You kiss me, tell me that you love me, then leave in a rage and take great pains to avoid me for a full month – do you really not have anything to say to me about that? Because I can think of a few words for you!'

'I should never have said it.'

'Why not? Was it untrue?'

'I should never have said it because it is true,' he spat back. 'Nothing but misery and danger can come of it, and I've shamed myself into the bargain by coveting what is Samsu's.'

'I am not Samsu's – I will never be his. You know that as well as anyone.'

'He would beg to differ, and you may be sure he'd leave you with something to help you remember, if he heard you say so.'

'He will take my body, but my heart is my own to give. I would choose to give it to you.'

'Well I would not choose to accept it. Eliana, too much is at stake, you must realise that.' His voice was harsh.

Her eyes filled with unexpected tears and spilled over. 'Of course I know that. But you did not give me a chance to tell you that I could love you too, if you would let me.'

Softening, he reached up and brushed the tears away with his fingertips. 'My brave girl – I can't let you love me. I couldn't be responsible for adding to your misery. I know you will never be Samsu's, but you must know that he will never let you be mine.'

Before she knew what she was doing, Eliana stretched up onto tiptoe and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her hands in his hair. He inhaled sharply, but did not pull away. Giving a deeply satisfied groan, he leaned into her, pushing her gently back against the wall and pressing his body down the length of hers.

Reluctantly, he let her go, pressing his hands against the wall as if he needed to have them in plain sight to stop them wandering. 'This can't be, and we both know it.'

'But... please don't stop being kind to me. Perhaps we can't be together, but we can be friends. I have precious few friends in this place, and I can't bear to have you against me.'

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, 'that much I can promise, little one. I shall always be kind to you while it's in my power.'

Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed it, backed out of the space and was gone.

As soon as he was out of sight, she raced back to the apartments with winged feet.

Creeping back in, she could hear movement in the bedroom. It was too late to get back into the bed unnoticed, then.

She resorted to her second plan and stole out into the gardens, away to her favourite corner. When Kisha and Mari found her missing, they would usually search for her here.

As she sat and waited to be discovered, her spirit soared. She had known that Ashan wouldn't agree to a secret affair, but the outcome was the best that she could hope for. To know that he still cared for her, that he would not ignore her any more. That he was her friend in this red glazed prison.

It was enough that she would be in his company from time to time, knowing how he felt, and waiting to steal a glance. They could not be together, but she could depend on his continued kindness, and that was more than she could expect from anyone else here.

This joyfulness continued all that week and into the next. Even Kisha remarked on how much improved her mood was; Mari eyed her suspiciously, not daring to vocalise any of her fears in case they turned out to be true.

The bubble burst half a moon after her confrontation with Ashan.

Suen was high in the sky, and Eliana slept peacefully beside her sister, with Sarri in the cradle at the foot of the bed.

The door flew open with a bang, startling the sisters awake. Kisha sat up with a shriek, frightening Sarri, who began to wail. A figure brandishing a torch stood silhouetted in the frame, like a demon come up from the underworld.

Depositing the flame in a wall bracket, the unmistakeable shadow of the Brute strode around the bed to where Eliana lay. He seized her by the wrist and hauled her from the warmth of the bed, dropping her roughly to the floor.

Head still fugged with sleep, she didn't resist.

'Did you miss me, whore?' he breathed. 'I missed you. We have just arrived back. Samsu will see you tomorrow night – if you please him, he'll keep you for his own. This might be our last night together.' The fire was reflected in his eyes, making them dance orange in his dark face. If it hadn't been for the grounding chill of the tiles beneath her, Eliana would have wondered whether this was reality or a nightmare where he truly was a demon come to earth.

He used her in his usual way, with unnecessary force and still with the dust of the road clinging to his tunic. Taken by surprise and with a clouded mind, there was no fight in Eliana. He seemed disappointed as he spent himself and threw her back to the ground.

Kisha had remained silent throughout, clutching the blanket to her chest to protect her own modesty; though, without Samsu's permission, the Brute would not even look at her.

Sarri still cried from the cradle.

Pulling down his tunic, the Brute turned to march from the room.

Horrified, Eliana watched as he kicked out hard at the cradle as he passed. It teetered for a moment, before crashing to the floor, spilling its precious contents.

Kisha leapt up like she'd been branded, all modesty forgotten, scooping up the screaming infant and checking her all over for damage.

'Hush! Hush!' she soothed and tutted, once she was happy that Sarri had not suffered any serious injury. The Brute had left the torch behind, and Eliana could see that Kisha was as pale and shaken as she was.

It was the first time that Kisha had forgotten to ask after her sister following one of the Brute's assaults.

Eliana barely noticed. As soon as she knew that her little niece was no more than rattled and upset, her mind returned to the Brute's words.

Samsu would see her tomorrow. If she pleased him, she would no longer have to suffer at the Brute's hands.

But she was no longer sure what would please him: courage or submission.