“You need to tell Rao to go,” Malini said, instead. “Tell him to go. Tell him Aditya needs him.”
“Rao,” Priya repeated. Her lips shaped the name with care. “Of course.”
“It’s not his name,” Malini said. “None of them have names. Only words for the rest of us to use, to pin them like a cloth beneath a needle. You understand?”
“Not at all,” said Priya.
“The royalty of Alor,” said Malini. “They worship the nameless god. They keep their names a secret. A whisper. Because their names are their fates. I only… I only trust him, now. And I want something good to come of this. He cannot save me from this place. He knows it. You know it, too. His presence here is a waste. But if he goes to Aditya… If I can have even the barest taste of vengeance…”
Fire crept up her tongue.
The pyre burned, before her. Chandra stood before her. There were hands dragging her toward the pyre. None of her careful, cutting words had worked. They would watch her burn, all these princes and kings, so many of them allies she had cultivated with pretty words and pacts and—yes—coin. She reached for Chandra, fought furiously. If I must burn, then I’ll take you with me, throne and all.
But there was no Chandra. Just Priya lying beneath her on the stone floor, pinned by Malini’s hands, looking up at her with those clear eyes. Her eyes were surrounded by lashes more brown than black. Against her dark skin, they were like gold.
An absurd thought. But it brought Malini back to her own flesh again. It made her crumple down, as Priya took hold of her and held her steady.
“Hush,” said Priya. “Or Pramila will hear you.”
Was Malini making noise? She hadn’t realized it. She ground her teeth together, lowering her head.
“You’ve let me hold you,” said Malini, “when you could knock me down without even trying.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Priya said, voice steady and sure. She had said it before, Malini remembered. A long time ago.
“And why not?” Malini demanded.
“Because we have a deal.”
“Ah, no,” said Malini. “No. That’s not why.”
She crumpled a little further, a spasm of pain running through her. Ghosts. Flame. The gossamer spirits of Narina and Alori dancing around her.
“Malini. Princess. Come on, please. Let me help you back to your bed.”
Malini allowed herself to be moved. Priya gathered her up like a child, helping her onto the cot.
“You care,” said Malini. “You care about me. You hate that I need you so much and that I tried to give you what you wanted from me—what I thought you wanted from me—to get what I needed from you. But you still care. Don’t lie to me and tell me that you don’t. I can see it in your face.”
“You don’t know what you’re seeing,” muttered Priya. There was a frown line creasing her brow.
“I know exactly what I’m seeing,” said Malini. “But I don’t understand why. Oh, when you thought I was something gentle and wounded—that I could understand. But now, now you know I’ve lied to you and used you, now you know I am a traitor, impure, that I have a hard heart, that I am the empire and the empire is me—”
“I don’t know,” Priya said. Her voice was a lash. “I don’t know why I care, is that enough? Perhaps I’m simply not monstrous enough to enjoy watching another human suffer, no matter how hard their heart may be.”
“Sincere goodheartedness that has nothing to do with me,” Malini said. Slow. The words came out of her slow and thick like honey. “I am not sure I can believe anyone like that exists. Everyone wants something. Everyone uses those wants. That’s what survival is. That’s what power is.”
“Then your life has been terrible and sad,” Priya replied bluntly.
“It has not. I have everything I need.” Loyal friends. Loyal allies. “I used to have everything. I used to…”
She trailed off.
Silence. One beat of it, followed by another. Then Priya spoke.
“You’re not proving your strength,” Priya said, “by refusing the needle-flower.”
“I can fight it,” Malini said thinly.
Priya touched her hand to Malini’s. Priya’s fingers were rough at the palms. Her touch was utterly soft.
“I don’t think you can,” she said. “I don’t think anyone can.”
“All bodies suffer and die the same, like it or not,” said Alori helpfully.