Priya swallowed.
You still are.
“There is a way you have to move, when you’re dressed like that,” Malini went on, apparently oblivious. “A way you have to behave. You can’t hold yourself hunched, as I am now. You can’t lower your head. You can’t show any weakness. You have to look strong.”
“Strong,” Priya repeated, turning a little to match the curve of the room. Malini turned too, as if they were dancing. “How so? You don’t mean like a soldier, I think.”
Malini laughed.
“No, not like a soldier. Strong like… Ah, perhaps it would be simpler to show you.”
Malini straightened her spine. Lifted her head, her neck an elegant line, her eyes suddenly cool. She moved with grace, lifting her feet with a subtle kick that Priya could tell would make an overlong sari—the kind of impractical length Priya would never wear—flutter where it touched the earth. For a moment she was utterly transformed, untouchable and yes—strong. But it wasn’t anything Priya had ever known as strength before.
Then Malini stumbled. Priya caught her hands immediately, taking Malini’s weight. They were so close, Malini’s face so near to hers, that their breath mingled. Their eyes met. Malini exhaled another faint laugh and drew back a little. Priya did the same. Her heart was pounding.
They were still holding hands.
“What was it like here, long ago?” Malini asked, voice strange. She was clearly trying to distract from whatever had just happened between them, and it was effective. Priya felt like she’d been doused in cold water. Malini had not said before the temple burned. But that was what she had meant.
If Priya closed her eyes she could envision it: carvings painted in rich shades of green and blue, with red eyes and red mouths. Blue floors, and gold lacquer on the great pillars that held up the walls. Lanterns of colored glass in sconces. Children laughing. The elders in their fine, soft silks.
But she looked around her, and nothing remained. Just motes of dust on the air, and the charred, empty walls. Just Malini watching her.
“What was it like in the imperial mahal?” Priya asked in return.
Malini offered Priya a sly smile that made clear she understood what Priya was doing but was willing to be led.
“It was beautiful. Sprawling. There were gardens everywhere, Priya. Such beautiful gardens. My ladies-in-waiting and I used to play in them, when we were small girls.” She moved her fingers restlessly against Priya’s own.
“I wish you would tell me about yourself,” Malini added. Her voice was soft. “I want to know everything about you.”
Priya’s throat was suddenly dry.
“Me? I’m not very interesting.”
“I’m sure you are. Let me prove it to you. A game.” Her voice was almost teasing. “Tell me one thing you want right now, Priya.”
“Want?”
“Yes. What do you want? Come, I’m testing if you’re dull, after all.”
It felt like a dangerous question. Priya shook her head, and Malini cocked hers.
“Come now,” Malini cajoled. “Everyone wants something. Me, for example. I want the sweets my brother Aditya always brought me for my birthday when I was a girl. Ladoo, but like none you’ve ever eaten before, Priya. Soaked in rose syrup and sugared almonds, dusted in a filigree of gold. Oh, they were perfect. I haven’t had them in years. So. What do you want?”
“Right now, I think I want those sweets,” said Priya, half-serious. A ladoo soaked in rose syrup sounded decadent, and she suddenly wanted to be decadent. Craved something delicious.
“Don’t cheat,” Malini scolded. “You have to pick your own want. And no food. I’ve picked food.”
“You can’t pick all food!”
“I can and I have.”
“Respectfully,” Priya said, in a tone that was anything but respectful, “that isn’t fair.”
“I’m the one testing you. It’s my right to decide the parameters of the testing. Now, go on: Tell me what you want most.”
Priya didn’t consider herself a complicated person. But she didn’t often think of her wants. What did she want, anyway? To remember herself, her past. To see Rukh alive a few more years. For Ashok to be well and… different. Able to love her. And Bhumika. She wanted Bhumika to respect her.
Those were bigger wants than Priya wanted to admit… or than Malini surely wanted to hear, even if Priya were free to confess them.
“Maybe I want to learn to walk the way you do,” said Priya, straightening her neck, tilting her chin just a little, in imitation of Malini’s regal posture.