"WELCOME, WELCOME," THE woman who waved at us said with a kind smile. She and another, taller woman wearing a red dress waited for me to step down from my side of the cart, before the tall woman enveloped me in a hug that made me stiffen with shock. Her dark russet-brown hair tickled my nose.

"I'm Adataneses," she introduced herself, pulling away and examining me at length. I flushed as I tried to rearrange my tichel, drawing it tighter along my cheeks to hide the red. I could feel hair sticking to my forehead, and my simlah felt ratty and grey in comparison to her bright red kethōneth that softly flowed with her hips and reached her ankles.

"And I'm Sedeqetlebab," the more reserved woman said. She took hold of my pack as Shem handed  it down to her, and her smile grew even broader. "Hello, my love," she said to Shem, who stepped down from the cart as well and enveloped Sedeqetlebab in a tight embrace that almost swallowed her whole.

Adataneses rolled her eyes. "Don't mind them," she said, beckoning me to follow her. I hesitated, mainly because I wasn't sure if I could just leave my clothes —— or more specifically, Naamah's parting gift to me —— in the hands of a stranger. But Adataneses wasn't waiting for me, and I took the opportunity to finally escape Shem's stoic presence.

"Shem goes to town for one day and then they act like he's returned from war," she continued, as I hurried to catch up. "Every. Single. Time."

We reached the firepit, and she slowed to a stop. Soft-looking fabrics, newly dyed, were tied to a leather cord spanning two of the four animal pelt tents. An array of delicious-smelling vegetables rested over the smouldering coals on a thick strip of bark.

A woman was waiting there for us, her arms crossed. Her hair was tied back in a bun, pinching her tanned face. She was older than Adataneses and Sedeqetlebab, by a considerable margin, and I dipped my head to her in uncertain greeting.

"Ezmara, Ezmara, look, isn't she pretty? Ham will be so pleased." My guide twisted to beam at me, and I felt an uncomfortable pull in my face to at least try and smile back at her, like not sharing in her excitement was a crime. "Ham and Japheth are still working, but they'll be back soon, and Noah, Noah ——"

Her brows furrowed and she shot a look at the older woman. "Where's Noah?"

"He will be back later this evening as well," she replied. She circled the firepit, taking her time until she reached me, her eyes not leaving my face as she scrutinised what seemed like every dimple and dip I had.

"What's your name, girl?" she asked.

Behind me, Adataneses offered comfort in the form of her soft breath rustling on my shoulder.

"Na'eltama'uk," I replied easily. My own mother offered a similar type of scrutiny, usually followed up by a scathing cut from her tongue, as painful as any time she hit me. At least it was something I was used to.

"Most people just call me Na'el."

"Good to meet you, Na'eltama'uk," the woman said in reply. I blinked. "My name is Ezmara. Ham is my son."

Shem and Sedeqetlebab joined us at the firepit. Shem's wife was still hanging onto my pack.

"And so are Shem and Japheth. Noah is my husband."

Noah. The lunatic. His name was infamous in town, synonymous with most jokes. Father truly had to have been desperate to marry me off to the son of the craziest man in the land.

"Have some food while we wait for the other men." Ezmara tilted her head to the firepit. "You must be hungry. And girls," she snapped her gaze to Adataneses, and then Sedeqetlebab, "don't crowd her. Let her get settled."

Shem spoke to his mother for a second, before shambling off to a tent. Ezmara began to unpin the fabrics from the cord. Adataneses picked up a sizeable piece of wood from beside the firepit, brushed it off, and then began using a knife to spear vegetables onto my plate.

Sedeqetlebab sat down on a nearby log and invited me to join her. "How was the journey? Shem wasn't too unsociable, was he?"

I wasn't sure how to answer the second question without lying too obviously, so I focused on the first. "It went fine. Thank you. But I'm happy to have finally arrived."

She nodded sympathetically. "I remember when I first came here. I was terrified, especially because I was the first wife, besides Ezmara, of course." She tossed her copper hair behind her shoulder. "But then I met Shem. And, well, with a husband like him, you don't have much left you have to be scared of."

I couldn't help but agree. Shem looked like he could chase away a nightmare with just a dirty glare.

"Thank you," I said to Adataneses as she handed me my food. She plonked down next to me on my other side and screwed her eyes shut.

"Elohim, please bless the food Na'el's about to eat, and thank you she could have safe journey here. Ah-men."

"Ah-men," Sedeqetlebab said from my other side.

I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I had to say it as well, even though I'd never heard the word before — Or that other one, 'Elohim' — just as Adataneses let out an excited crow and jumped to her feet.

"Look, Japheth and Ham are here! Finally!"

Emzara turned and blocked my view. Shem emerged from his tent, now only wearing his knee-height kethōneth.

I stood as well, putting aside my food even though my mouth was wet with saliva. My stomach went from growling with hunger to flipping with nerves. Ham. My betrothed. The reason why I would never see my little sister again.

Two men entered the camp, shiny with sweat. One was tall and lean, the other shorter with broad shoulders. The taller man had long hair simply tied back by a circlet cord around his crown, and for a moment, my heart pattered in my chest. He was beautiful, with a shapely jaw and nose. His sleeveless kethōneth showed off his biceps and clavicle.

Adataneses kissed him.

I blinked. I hadn't even notice her skip over to who I guessed was her husband. Japheth. And so, my eyes travelled to Ham.

He was already watching me with bright blue eyes that leapt from the dark skin of his face and night-black hair. I immediately looked away, my breath fading in my throat. I'd never seen a man with blue eyes before. The closest comparison was that of a blind beggar I'd seen once in my youth, and how much his milky pale eyes had frightened me.

But Ham was very definitely not blind. His gaze had been probing.

"Ham, that's Na'eltama'uk. She will be your wife," Ezmara said, for my benefit. I wasn't sure I'd be able to introduce myself to him, or try and meet his eyes again.

"And this is Japheth," Adataneses added, her hand firmly on her husband's chest. Japheth quirked an eyebrow at me, and then looked at Ham slyly.

"Too bad, Na'el," Japheth lilted with a mock eye-roll, "those half-troll children of yours will have gotten it from their father."

I felt my cheeks flush for the umpteenth time of the day.

"Japheth," an unfamiliar man's voice scolded. An older man with short grey hair emerged from the darkness that was swiftly drawing in.

Noah.

As if he could hear my single thought, he cast a look at me. His eyes were a bright blue as well, but less harsh in his more open, more greyed face.

"That is not how we introduce our brothers to their future wives."

Japheth shrugged once Noah had turned away, to look at me, and Adataneses noiselessly giggled in his arms.

"Welcome, Na'el," Noah's voice was soft, yet clear. Definitely not addled with lunacy. "I am so glad you could join us."

I inclined my head, uncertain of how to appropriately respond to my future father-in-law; the man who'd been the monster under my bed in my youth, ready to infect me with insanity like it was contagious.

Noah looked to the sky for a moment, then back at me. "I am sure you have lots of questions. And we will have plenty of time to answer them. But for now, let's just thank Elohim for another day, and," he reached his hand out to me, "another daughter."

"Amen," this peculiar family said. Ham's murmur was delayed. I found myself looking at him again, only to be once more locked in his dazzling gaze.

"But, alas," Noah shut his eyes and furrowed his thick grey eyebrows. "As of yet, I cannot bless this union."

Beside me, I could feel Sedeqetlebab stiffen. Ham shot a glance —— more like an accusatory glare —— at Ezmara, who remained impassive.

My mouth felt dry. My stomach had gone from jumping with nerves to roiling with bile. I would have to return to Mother and Father. I would die under their hands, unmarried, childless, utterly alone once they married Naamah off to hide the stain of my failure.

"Yet," Noah repeated. His eyes softened on me. "Na'el, you're still young. As is Ham. You still have much to learn. And we have jobs to do." His gaze roved the faces of everyone standing around the firepit. "Duties beyond ourselves."

Now I could taste the bile in my mouth. So I was stuck. A bride without a husband. A gift with no recipient. Worthless. The only place where I had had any use was by Naamah's side.

"Na'el, eat," Adataneses said, as Noah beckoned Shem and Japheth over. Ezmara pulled Ham aside, and I reckoned I could hear the low drone of their heated whispers even between the tent's walls.

"Noah is a man of his word. And sometimes a little wait isn't terrible. Makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever." Adataneses's voice was beginning to prick at my temples. I ate without tasting the food, and then Ada showed me to Noah and Ezmara's tent, where a roll of pelts had been laid for me.

I was too tired and angry — no, furious — to change. I realised too late I had left my pack at the firepit, but when I twisted to contemplate retrieving it, blue eyes pinned me in place.

Ham was carrying my clothes. Away from the camp. I watched him go, and tasted blood. I'd been biting on my lip.

Those eyes haunted me, and I was too disconcerted to go after him. Even in my dreams, a blue moon blinked above me lazily.