Free Crown in the Stars by Kacy Barnett-Gramckow

on ordinary matters such as the building of the tower.
Focusing on the abandoned brown-furred quiver again, Adoniyram thought, I will learn the truth, Shoshannah. And if you are deceitful, then I will insist that you and your traitor-mother be punished. If not, then I will deal with your enemies for lying to me .

Perek lowered Shoshannah’s arm, allowing her to walk properly and breathe more easily, but he gripped her wrist so cruelly that she couldn’t extend her fingers without pain. She longed to promise him that she would behave—for now—if only he would loosen his grip. He won’t believe me , she thought miserably. I’ma, what did you do to make this Perek hate you so?
Humiliated, Shoshannah didn’t lift her head or look at the citizens on either side. She trudged through the streets after Ra-Anan’s wife, Zeva’ah; her graceful but aloof daughter; and the dignified, big-boned woman who was apparently Kuwsh’s wife.
Their destination was a low, sprawling brick residence, enclosed by a high mud-washed wall. At first glance, the residence appeared to be modest. But as Shoshannah followed the other women inside—with Perek still twisting her arm—she was amazed by the beautiful mural-painted walls, the gleaming copper ornaments, fine baskets, exquisitely crafted wooden chests,various types of chairs, and the colorful accents of scattered fleeces, cushions, and gauzy hangings of rare cloth.
“Perek, release her,” Zeva’ah said, as if speaking to a child, “but stay near. If she makes any trouble, we’ll call you.”
Obedient, Perek went outside, giving Shoshannah a last threatening glance.
When he was gone, Shoshannah turned toward the three women, who were all studying her quietly. Zeva’ah’s gaze was subtly critical, her daughter’s reserved. Kuwsh’s wife was stolid, her broad, polished-brown face unmoving.
At last, Zeva’ah exhaled. “You smell like a horse.”
“I’ve been traveling,” Shoshannah explained, feeling like a small child receiving a scolding.
“Demamah,” Zeva’ah said to her watchful daughter, “tell the servants to bring water to the bathing room, and food and drink for the Lady Achlai. Follow me, child.” Zeva’ah said the word child crisply, unpleasant behind her courtesy.
While Demamah hurried off to speak to the servants, Shoshannah followed Zeva’ah through a passage to a secluded brick and bitumen-sealed room. The Lady Achlai followed unobtrusively. Zeva’ah eyed the other woman, then gestured toward a short wooden bench, as if resigned to her presence.
Why isn’t she more welcoming toward Kuwsh’s wife? Shoshannah wondered. Although Achlai didn’t seem to require much attention.
To Shoshannah, Zeva’ah said, “If you’re going to stay here, you will keep yourself clean and well-groomed, beginning now. Get those clothes off.”
Aware of Achlai’s impassive scrutiny, Shoshannah looked away, self-consciously unpinning her gray cloak.Zeva’ah took the cloak as if it were slimy and repulsive. When a flushed, sharp-faced maidservant crept into the bathing room carrying a clay water vessel, Zeva’ah said, “Put that down, Ormah. Then take this and burn it.”
Startled, Shoshannah protested, “But that’s my cloak!”
“It stinks as you do,” Zeva’ah said, unperturbed. “And it’s probably crawling with bugs.”
“It isn’t,” Shoshannah argued in distress. “My I’ma combed and spun that wool, and I’ma-Naomi and I’ma-Annah and I’ma-Chaciydah helped her to weave it and to bind the edges—you can’t burn it, please!”
Zeva’ah stared at Shoshannah, clearly willing her to submit.
From her place on the small bench, Achlai said, “I will take the cloak, Zeva’ah. If it’s infested, I will have it burned. If not, I will be sure it is cleaned.”
“Thank you,” Shoshannah sighed, grateful.
Achlai nodded and set the cloak nearby but said nothing more. The flushed maidservant scurried away empty-handed.
Other servants were entering and