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be.”

Abram
    A fter seven long days and seven nights full of dreams she did not dare tell anyone about, Sarai left the chamber of blood. It was a moment she dreaded as much as she had wished for it.
    The daylight was so bright that she could hardly open her eyes. She heard, more than she saw, Sililli greet her with chuckles of contentment and kiss her, while Egime gave her a few last pieces of advice.
    Before Sarai could even say a word, Sililli pulled her over to the staircase leading to the women’s quarters, whose white walls were even more dazzling than the walls of the courtyard. Sarai let herself be led like a blind girl. There seemed to be more steps going up than she remembered. She did not open her eyes until they reached the upper terrace, where Sililli opened a cedarwood door, its wood so new it still smelled of resin.
    â€œGo in!”
    Shielding her eyes, Sarai hesitated. There seemed to be nothing beyond the door but a gaping shadow.
    â€œCome on now, go in!” Sililli repeated.
    The room was spacious, its length greater than its breadth. There was a square window, through which the morning sun entered, and a window seat covered with a mat. The floor was of oiled red bricks and the high ceiling was made of thin reeds carefully attached to squared-off beams. Everything was new. There were two beds, one large and one small, as well as a huge painted chest reinforced with silver studs. Against one wall was a weaving frame, also new. The vases, bowls, and goblets on a rack in a corner of the room had never been used, nor had any flame ever licked the terra-cotta fireplace.
    â€œIsn’t it magnificent? It was your father who wanted things to be like this.”
    Sililli was flushed with excitement. In a flood of words, she told Sarai how Ichbi Sum-Usur had urged on the carpenters and masons so that all these wonders should be ready for the day when his daughter left the chamber of blood.
    â€œHe took care of everything! He even decided how high the walls should be. He said: ‘She’s the first of my daughters to be married, and nothing can be too beautiful for her. I want her bridal chamber to be the highest and most beautiful in the women’s courtyard!’”
    Sarai felt a strange tightening in her chest. She wanted to share Sililli’s joy, but she was finding it hard to breathe. She could not take her eyes off the big bed. Sililli was right; it was the most beautiful she had ever seen. The plane-wood bedstead stood on broad feet that bore delicately carved figures of the zodiac. On the wide dark board, its end covered with immaculately white sheepskins, a red silhouette of Nintu had been painted.
    â€œAll the months of the four seasons are here,” Sililli said, running her index finger over the drawing of the Goat-Fish, the constellation of
Mul.suhur
. “So that all of them can bring you luck.” She pointed to the small bed in another corner of the room. “And that’s for me. It’s new, too. Of course, I’ll only sleep here on the nights when you’re alone.”
    Sarai avoided her gaze. But Sililli hadn’t finished yet. She went to the big chest and lifted the thick wooden lid with its silver hinges, revealing a heap of fabrics and shawls.
    â€œA full chest, that was another thing your father wanted! Look how beautifully these are woven! Linen
rakutus
as smooth as a baby’s skin. And this . . .”
    She opened a leather bag and emptied its contents on the sheepskins: a collection of wooden and silver clasps, bracelets, and brooches. Then she took one of the lengths of material from the chest and in a few deft movements draped Sarai in a perfectly folded toga, leaving her left shoulder bare, as was the custom.
    Sililli took a step backward to admire her work, but Sarai did not give her time. She removed the toga and dropped it on the bed.
    â€œDo you know who he is?” she asked, in a voice that shook more than she would