Like the first night they had met.
This time, he didn’t hesitate and tucked the curl behind her ear, cupping her face in his hand.
“I’m not? Is that a threat?”
She sighed, her eyes turning a darker mahogany as he brushed his fingertips against her cheek. “Please, don’t.”
Esha stepped back, tugging Kunal so that he had no choice but to follow her. Not that it was a chore. The darkness was a welcome cover, giving them privacy in a way they hadn’t experienced in days.
She pulled him into a deep kiss, replacing all the thoughts he was having with the feel of her in his arms. He entwined his arms around her small frame, feeling her soft skin under his touch—and checking for hidden weapons. He pushed her up against the open window of the alcove, not caring who might be below. But while he wanted to stay there, with her, like this, he hadn’t forgotten that she was sneaking out to do something.
“You know I have another knife,” she said, her voice husky.
They broke apart for a second, staring at each other. Kunal made the mistake of looking down at the one he had drawn from her waist sash. In seconds, she grasped the sides of the windows, and pushed herself into the alcove like a swing.
“I’ll be right back, I promise. There’s something important I have to do.”
The look on Esha’s face was Viper, through and through.
Esha tugged at the rope behind her and launched herself through the open window to land on the outer wall of the palace.
Kunal leaned over to see where she had gone, but she had already disappeared into the darkness.
Esha winced as she took a seat in the large, oval room, her bangles cutting into the gash she had gotten in last night’s hasty exit. Her information gathering had gone well, except for the initial interruption by Kunal. She had gotten a location—the Falcon Squad was staying in the garrison. Brute force over stealth worked, but she was paying for it now with a number of new scrapes and bruises.
She brushed her hair out of her eye and tucked a loose curl back into the ornate braided crown that Aditi had done that morning for the peace summit. The meeting room was spectacularly decorated, with the crests of all five Jansan houses and the eagle of the Samyads towering above them on the ceiling. Esha imagined many war councils had been held there with the Samyad queens. What she would have given to see that.
She was supposed to be conversing with her prince, perhaps checking on terms before the negotiations started. But as it was, Harun was avoiding her and she was one of the only women in the room, drawing curious and hostile glances. Not the best choice for keeping a low profile, but Harun had insisted that she deserved a seat at the table.
The doors flew open and Vardaan entered, winged by a cadre of advisers in stark white dhotis and four Senap guards at his back. Harun was swept toward the long table in the center of the room by one of his advisers. Esha moved to take a seat farther down the table, but Harun held a hand up to her, stopping her in her tracks. He turned to his adviser.
“Make a spot for Lady Esha next to me.”
“But, Your Highness, that spot is for Adviser Kulkar,” the man said, looking nervous.
“Give him another spot.”
“Your Highness, I’d advise against that. We can’t have a—”
A what? Esha felt her lips tighten into a thin line. A woman?
“I don’t care,” Harun said, an edge to his voice.
“Harun, it’s fine. It’ll be better for me to be down there. I can observe more,” she said quietly, stressing the latter part. He stared at her, searching for something.
“All right, if you think it’s best,” he said, turning back to face the table.
The adviser looked relieved. Esha sent him a look that made it clear that he owed her one. She took the seat she had pulled out before, sliding into it as a trumpet was blown and the official talks began.
“Greetings, Uncle,” Harun said, bowing slightly to Vardaan and his advisers. “Thank you for setting up this peace summit for our countries. Dharka seeks peace and friendship from its neighbor and sister country. We’re glad to be here to discuss the best future for both of our people.”
“Welcome,” an adviser to the right of Vardaan said, tilting his head. “We’re honored to have the delegation from Dharka here to negotiate a peace treaty.” His voice hitched, and he looked over at Vardaan, a rough swallow going down his throat. Vardaan nodded at him. “However, an important matter has come to our notice. One that must be immediately resolved.”
Esha glanced around, trying to see if anyone else on their delegation knew what the man was referring to.
“This morning, one of our Senaps was found dead.”
“My condolences,” Harun said, putting four fingers to his chest.
The adviser bowed his head in response. “Thank you. Senap Ronak Undhiya was a great warrior, and a rising star in the king’s personal unit.”
Esha’s tapping finger stilled, and she quickly pulled her uttariya over the cuts and bruises on her arms while panic flooded her body. She had merely thrown a few blows to get him to speak. She definitely hadn’t killed him.
He had been alive and breathing, though spitting curses, when she had left.
“I’m very sorry,” Harun repeated, a hint of impatience in his voice. “But may I ask why you’re bringing this up?”
“We’re worried there are those taking advantage of the Mela to harm our soldiers. And when we thought about what has changed from previous Melas, your delegation . . .”
“Are you insinuating something, adviser?” King Mahir asked, his deep voice rumbling.
The man looked nervous again, glancing over at Vardaan.
“No insinuations, brother. We thought you should know that there might be some forces in the city who are not happy with us meeting. The disturbances only started after your arrival. Another soldier had been poisoned at an inn.”
Esha gripped the table tighter.
“Uncle, I’m still unclear how this affects us,” Harun said. “Forgive my bluntness. But if your soldiers are being targeted, it could be anyone. You can be assured it’s no one from my court. They’re as committed to peace as we are.”
“That’s the thing, we can’t be sure,” Vardaan said. “Dharkan rebels have previously targeted my army.”
He trailed his finger along the table, drawing the shape of a whip.
“And what about the Jansan rebels?” Harun asked.
“Jansan rebels? We have none. My people are loyal, and those who aren’t, aren’t true Jansans,” Vardaan said, his tone almost bored. Esha thought back to the corpses swinging from the city walls and drew her uttariya tighter around her body.
If Vardaan was going to pretend Dharmdev was inconsequential, there was nothing they could do. But Esha knew how dangerous the Scales could be. Was this their work? Framing the Blades, once again?
“We think it prudent to postpone signing the peace agreement until after we get to the bottom of this,” the adviser said.
“Really?” King Mahir asked, his gaze sharpening on the man. “And this isn’t an excuse to cancel our talks, which we traveled here in good faith to have? We’ve been nothing but gracious since the truce, despite your previous general being the constant aggressor.”
King Mahir realized the mistake when Vardaan’s tapping fingers stopped abruptly.
“My general? The man killed by your rebel group, the very one you claim you can’t control?”
“I have no affiliation with them. We only heard recently—”
Vardaan scoffed. “He was my general. A sworn soldier. My friend. If you think I’ve—”
His adviser put a hand on his forearm, and Vardaan retreated, but they’d already seen the anger underneath Vardaan’s mask.
Mahir leaned forward, matching Vardaan’s anger with his own.
“Your sworn soldier. Do you know what he did to our civilians in Sundara? He wasn’t a general, he was a common murderer.”
; Harun tensed next to his father.
“What was that?” Vardaan’s voice was a low simmer.
“You heard me, Vardu. A murderer.”
Vardaan flinched as if he had been hit. “I hate that nickname, you know it.”
“You hate everything about us, don’t you? You left our parents, our people, our land.”
“It wasn’t really ours. Was it, brother? No, everything was for you,” he spat out. Heat flared between the brothers, something unspoken sparking against old wounds. Esha had expected a difficult conversation, but it was different seeing the decades of pain and anger between the two royals.
A second later, Vardaan’s face was back to being placid and pompous. “Well, all that’s changed now. Hasn’t it, brother?” He swept a hand out. “I’ve my own kingdom now.”
Esha could almost feel the fire coming off King Mahir, but somehow he managed to fight it, and when he spoke his voice was as cool as ice.
“Indeed.”
It was a good reminder that Vardaan hadn’t been born a vicious, lying monster. He had been formed. She had always thought that it was due to greed, a singular motivation from a singular monster of a man. But Esha couldn’t hold on to that idea now. Not when she had seen her nightmare in the flesh.
Vardaan was human—cruel, scheming, angry. But also charismatic, protective of his men, loyal.
Rather like the Viper.
Silence reigned in the thick air. The advisers on both sides wore identical expressions of fear and worry.
Vardaan frowned, dropping the indolent smile he had been wearing. “My men are important to me. And there’s no assurance that your men will be safe either. Someone is trying to stop our talks.”
“Isn’t that more reason to continue?” one of Mahir’s advisers tried.
“Yes,” Vardaan said. “But I won’t risk my men or your safety.” And something about the way he said it made Esha almost believe him. “Not if I have a choice.”
King Mahir nodded. “I understand,” he said, his voice softer. There was a pause between them, a moment that they both recollected, but it passed.
“We can agree to hold off on the signing, but let’s not delay our negotiations. If this is indeed a threat, we cannot be cowed,” King Mahir said.
Vardaan looked pleased with the outcome.
Esha felt her panic shifting into anger and confusion. Someone had killed Ronak after she had left. Someone was trying to punish her country through her. She needed to stop, reassess the situation. But rage and grief still battled inside her heart, curling into the empty spaces in her chest.
Esha took a stilted breath, drawing herself out of her head and turning her attention back to the talks. They had moved on to the terms of the agreement—how they’d share the border and trade routes—but Esha couldn’t focus.
She’d made a vow to her parents that night, and one couldn’t forego something written in blood. Esha felt her heart torn in two, her duty to her past and future colliding.
Esha didn’t know which she would choose.
Kunal allowed himself a small frown as he lounged against the palace wall. He’d already had to dodge a group of young noble ladies in the training courtyard and now he had to figure out how to lie to Arpiya.
Arpiya had been working every night to set up an exit plan from the citadel to the palace. Tonight she’d requested his help, and though he had already sent a note to Laksh that he’d let him into the palace, he had no good excuse to say no to Arpiya.
“Why are we going this way?” Arpiya asked, sweeping her short hair out of her eyes.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Answer the question.”
He shrugged. “I found this to be a better path to get to the lookout. Plus, I have a few Senap duties I need to fulfill tonight,” he added, providing an excuse for what he was about to do. He was already tense and uncomfortable at the idea of letting Laksh into the palace, like a scorpion was on his back and he was letting it sit on his shoulder.
“Hmph,” was all Arpiya said in response.
“Is something the matter?” Kunal asked, not really wanting to get into it. But Arpiya had been kind to him when she had no reason, and he wanted to return the favor.
Arpiya blew out a frustrated sigh. “That feeling is back. The feeling that I need to leave or run. It’s been plaguing me ever since I got inside these damn walls.”
Kunal looked at her thoughtfully. “I know what you mean.” He paused before continuing. “I haven’t painted or even thought about art since I set foot in this palace. It’s as if it sucked all the art out of me,” he said.
Or maybe it was all the scheming and lying. He couldn’t be sure.
“I’m positive if you asked Esha she would change up your tasks. Maybe take on a few for you.”
Arpiya shuddered. “She would, but I hate the parties more than lookout. And we need alliances, more soldiers. I can’t wait till we’re done with this mission and can get out of here. We’ll take Reha somewhere safe while Harun figures out how to maneuver her onto the throne.”
Maneuver her onto the throne? Kunal glanced at Arpiya, but she was looking down the hall. The goal was to save Reha and find a way to get her to the ritual in time. There wouldn’t be time to get her on the throne beforehand. But perhaps there was some plan Esha had up her sleeve; he’d have to ask her when he saw her.
“Why did you ask for lookout duty tonight? If you’ve been stuck here for so long.”
“I wanted to confirm our plan. I’m confident of the Senap and servant timings, and I’ve given enough gold coins to the traders to ensure they jump when I tell them. But there are always things that go awry, so here I am. Checking and rechecking.”
Kunal nodded. He understood that.
“And I wanted to spend time with you, soldier,” Arpiya said.
“Me?”
She examined him. “My best friend dragged you in and dumps you onto our team. It’s clear to me she cares for you.”
Kunal coughed, shifting his position. “She cares for me? Did she say that or—”
Arpiya rolled her eyes. “The two of you. I’m not here to be your messenger. Anyway, she broke her team’s trust to keep your secret. She lied to us for you.”
The tone of Arpiya’s voice made Kunal realize what Esha had broken to keep him safe. His heart thumped fiercely. He’d do the same for her. He was doing the same, agreeing to let Laksh into the palace and more.
“Moon Lord’s mother, you two are the same. Learn to control your expressions around others at least?” Arpiya said.
“Huh?”
“That moony look on your face and the steel that followed. I’m glad to see it. I came here to make sure you don’t do anything to hurt my friend. Otherwise, I’d skin you from ear to ear.”
Kunal winced. “I have no intention of hurting her.”
“That’s clear to me now, at least. But intentions aren’t what the world is built on,” she said. “You can have the best of intentions and yet . . .”
He wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Wasn’t good intention the basis of a good act? A tapping sound against the door nearby prevented him from philosophizing further with Arpiya.
“What was that?”
“Not sure,” Kunal lied. “Let me check. Stay hidden around the corner until I give the signal.”
Arpiya looked like she was about to question him, but she nodded. Once she had turned the corner, Kunal opened the door, yanking Laksh into the room.
“I said to tap once.”
Laksh pushed him away, brushing off his uttariya. “I wasn’t sure you’d hear me.”
“I’m pretty sure everyone in this corridor heard you.”
“Everyone? If you’ve set me up—”
“Oh believe me, I thought about it, but I don’t betray my word. Unlike some—”
“And who is this?” Arpiya said, walking up toward him. She had pulled out her hair from its bun and untied her sari from around her waist, making her
look like a regular courtier.
“I might ask the same question of my friend.” Laksh bowed to her in greeting. “Who is this lovely lady?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye.
Kunal felt stuck, unsure what to do. He couldn’t warn Arpiya about Laksh without giving away his precarious position with him.
“This is Arpiya, a friend of mine. And this is Laksh,” Kunal said through gritted teeth. “He was the noise we heard. He dropped his knife.”
Arpiya gave him a look as if he was being odd, and Laksh moved forward.
“I was just passing by and thought I’d say hi to Kunal. I’m glad I did.” Laksh’s gaze was locked on Arpiya.
“Oh, do you not see each other often?” Arpiya asked, her voice an octave higher than normal.
“No, I see Kunal often enough,” Laksh said, his meaning clear. “It was my luck I happened upon him and you.” Arpiya blushed. Actually blushed.
Were they . . . flirting? Kunal felt nauseated at the thought. Esha would have his head if he knew what was happening—he had to step in.
“And my friend was on his way. He mentioned he had some urgent business in the martial quarter.” Which was not only in the very opposite direction from them, but hopefully reminded Arpiya that he was—or had been—a soldier.
But the curiosity on Arpiya’s face didn’t waver. “Business? Are you a soldier?”
Laksh hesitated. “Retired,” he said, pulling his turban a bit lower. Kunal grinned at Laksh’s discomfort. He must have remembered all of the Fort’s horrible punishments for desertion. And how close he was to being discovered.
“I have a few dealings, but they’re all rather boring.”
“Nonsense, I’m sure they’re exhilarating.”
“No, they’re boring,” Kunal interjected. “Laksh, weren’t you on your way? I’ll walk you out.”
Kunal almost sighed in relief as Laksh nodded, though Laksh was having a hard time tearing his eyes away from Arpiya. Which made Kunal want to tear his own eyes out himself.
Laksh approached Arpiya, tucking something into her palm.
The Archer at Dawn Page 16