Malini said nothing. Sometimes apologies only served to inflame Pramila’s anger further. An apology, after all, could not right any wrongs. Could not bring back the dead.
“Double your dosage tonight, I think,” Pramila announced, opening the book once more.
Malini turned her ear to Pramila. Heard the sound of the book cracking open; the rasp of fingers against the pages. The drone of Pramila’s voice.
This is what a pure and holy woman of Parijat can accomplish, when she embraces immortality.
Malini counted the shadows of the soldiers through the curtain. Lord Santosh’s figure was hunched over his horse, a parasol held over his head by an obedient lackey.
She thought of all the ways she would enjoy seeing her brother die.
PRIYA
Rukh stared at everything in the regent’s mahal: the lattice walls cut into hollow roses and lotus flowers, the airy hallways broken up by white silk curtains, the bouquets of peacock feathers carved into the bases of the sandstone columns that held up the high, silver-tiled ceilings. He tried to dawdle and drink it all in, but Priya dragged him along mercilessly. She couldn’t afford to give him the time to gawp. She was very, very late back, and although she’d warned the cook Billu that she was going to be late—bribed him with hashish she’d saved specifically for this occasion—there was only so far that she could stretch his goodwill.
She handed Rukh over to the care of Khalida, a sour-faced senior maidservant who agreed reluctantly to ask their mistress if the boy could do some menial work in her manse.
“I’ll come back and see you later,” Priya promised Rukh.
“If Lady Bhumika allows him to stay, you may collect him before the evening meal,” Khalida replied, and Rukh bit his lip. Worry tinged his expression.
Priya bowed her head.
“Thank you, ma’am.” To Rukh, she said, “Don’t worry. Our lady won’t say no.”
Khalida frowned, but did not disagree. She knew just as well as Priya did how generous the regent’s wife could be.
Priya left them both, went to the maids’ dormitory, where she hastily daubed the worst of the mud and dirt from her frankly grimy sari, and headed to the kitchen. She tried to make up for her lateness by stopping at the stepwell on the way and collecting two brimming buckets of water. There was never a time when water was not useful in a busy palace kitchen, after all.
To her surprise, no one seemed to have noticed her absence. Although the large clay ovens were hot, and a few servants bustled in and out, the majority of the kitchen staff were huddled by the tea stove.
Mithunan, one of the younger guards, was standing by the stewing pot of tea, drinking from a clay cup held in one hand as he gesticulated wildly with the other. All the servants were listening to him intently.
“… only one advance rider,” he was saying. “One horse. You could tell he’d come all the way from Parijat. His accent was pure court, and the watch captain said he was carrying the imperial token.” Mithunan took a sip of tea. “I thought the captain would faint, he was so shocked.”
Priya put the buckets down and drew closer.
Billu looked over at her. “Good to finally see you,” he said dryly.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“The princess is arriving today,” one of the maidservants said, in the kind of hushed and excited tone reserved for the best gossip.
“She wasn’t meant to arrive for at least another week,” Mithunan added with a shake of his head. “We weren’t even told to look out for her on watch. But she hasn’t got a retinue with her, the rider said, so she’s moving fast.”
“No retinue,” Priya repeated. “Are you sure?”
Every royal from every city-state in Parijatdvipa traveled with a vast and mostly useless array of followers: servants, guards, entertainers, favored nobles. For the sister of the emperor to travel with anything less than a small army was an absurd concept.
Mithunan shrugged. “I only know what the rider told us,” he said awkwardly. “But maybe the rules are different when—well, you know. In the circumstances.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I was sent to bring some food back with me. We had a double shift and we might need to stay on for a third. The men are hungry.”
“Where are the day shift guards?” Billu asked, already moving to pile a basket full of food.
“Out in the city,” said Mithunan. “Captain said the regent wants everything safely shut down before the princess makes it here. Brother Billu, do you have any more tea? Or sugarcane? Anything to keep us all awake…”