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The Jasmine Throne (Burning Kingdoms, #1)(166)

Author:Tasha Suri

She placed the vial in his belt, carefully, then straightened.

“Rest, Ashok,” she said gently. “I’ll return.”

MALINI

I almost killed her.

That would be a new nightmare, to fold in with the rest. Already, she dreamt of fire, the smell of burning flesh, Narina’s blackened smile.

Now she would dream of Priya’s heart in her hands. Pulsing. A hairsbreadth from her blade.

She did not allow herself to reveal how she felt. She walked with Lady Bhumika’s strange retinue of people—soldiers, maidservants, cooks—and ignored the looks they gave her.

Bhumika had agreed to ensure that Malini would be returned to her brother Aditya’s side, so that Malini could carry out her part of their bargain. Then, in turn, Bhumika would return to Hiranaprastha, where she would protect Ahiranya with all her and Priya’s full might and wait for Aditya to succeed or fail. For now, Bhumika directed her retinue to continue along the seeker’s path, and insisted on keeping Malini close, often leaning on her arm for support. As Bhumika did so, she made a point of asking Malini small, prying questions about her life at court. About imperial politics. About Chandra and Aditya.

Malini should not have underestimated Bhumika, when she first met her. That had been a grave error on her part.

Malini answered as best as she could. They did, after all, have an alliance. And she was glad to have made an ally of the Ahiranyi woman rather than an enemy.

Malini asked after the fate of the regent only once.

“I think you know the answer,” replied Bhumika. She said it without any visible emotion, but Malini knew how little that meant. She did not pry further. What lay in the privacy of Bhumika’s mind was Bhumika’s business.

“My condolences,” Malini said simply.

“It was necessary,” Bhumika said tonelessly, which was… revealing.

Malini nodded, walking sedately at Bhumika’s side, to match her pace. To her distant left, she saw Priya, walking with a child and another maidservant. As if sensing her gaze, Priya turned to look at her. There was a question in the shape of her mouth, the tilt of her head. They hadn’t yet had a chance to talk alone.

Malini looked away and found Bhumika watching her with an unfathomable expression.

“Are you happy with our pact, Lady Bhumika?”

Bhumika considered this, turning her head forward once more.

“Yes,” Bhumika said finally. “Symbolism is important. And freedom… You will not understand this, Princess Malini. But there is a subtle pain the conquered feel. Our old language is nearly lost. Our old ways. Even when we try to explain a vision of ourselves to one another—in our poetry, our song, our theater masks—we do so in opposition to you, or by looking to the past. As if we have no future. Parijatdvipa has reshaped us. It is not a conversation, but a rewriting. The pleasure of security and comfort can only ease the pain for so long.” She clasped her hands before herself. “And yet I never wanted this—this collapse of the regency. This end. I understand that to ease the pain of being a vassal nation comes at the cost of mortal lives. Now bloodshed is inevitable… I gladly enter a pact that allows the death to be minimized, and even a shade of our freedom, our selves, to be saved.

“Besides,” Bhumika murmured, “who am I to undo the vows made between my sister and yourself?”

Malini glanced at her. Bhumika looked weary, but there was a smile on her lips, small and knowing.

Later, when everyone stopped to rest, Malini slipped away and found a place to sit alone—the trunk of a fallen tree, beneath the cover of an old banyan that had sucked the moisture and life from the earth around it, leaving a private glade. She waited.

It wasn’t long before Priya arrived.

“Finally,” Priya said, approaching. The ground whispered beneath her feet, small plants turning around her heels. Malini wondered if Priya even realized it was happening. “I’ve wanted to talk to you.”

“It’s been difficult,” Malini agreed. “There are—so many people. I’m not used to it any longer. It was so much quieter on the Hirana.”

“Malini,” Priya said. “I just…”

Malini watched Priya draw in closer, until Priya was standing over her, one arm wrapped across her stomach.

Malini braced herself. Waited.

“I understand,” said Priya, “why you threatened what you did. It was the only weapon you had.”

Malini tilted her head back, looking into Priya’s eyes. “But do you understand that I almost killed you?”