by Neha Yazmin
“He seemed particularly happy and healthy.” Before he’d trained with her, that is.
He shouldn’t have trained with me if he was already unwell. I shouldn’t have agreed to train him! What was she thinking?
“That’s what he does,” Wyett moaned, frustrated. He spun around to face the door. “When he’s feeling worse than usual, he tries extra hard to look normal or happy. It’s how I can tell when he’s deteriorating.”
“I didn’t know that,” Aaryana whispered to herself, guilt and self-loathing eating away at her.
“I’d have realised what was happening if I’d been at Court today.” He slammed his fist on the door, hard. The thud reverberated through the room, through her bones.
“It’s not your fault,” she told him. It’s mine.
She had worked him too hard, weakened him too much; that must have allowed for his sickness to batter him down.
“I should have been there.” Wyett’s body sagged forward against the wood, as though the punch on the door had taken its toll on him. “I’ve never seen him like this before…” His words were barely audible, but they were deafening to her ears. “I promised my mother that I’d take care of him,” he said, slightly louder. “I promised her… just before she died… I promised her…” He pulled in a ragged breath.
“What are you saying, Your Highness?”
Tentatively, she went and put her hand on his shoulder. His body stiffened but he didn’t flinch away from her touch.
“You were with your mother when she died?” Her words came out a breathy whisper.
Wyett didn’t speak; the speeding of his breathing, the rapid rise and fall of his shoulder beneath her hand, told her that she was right. He was with his mother when she died…
No one had mentioned how the Queen died; Aaryana hadn’t asked, either. People died from all kinds of illnesses and accidents, and if it had anything to do with the Fresdan curse, Micah or his mother would have mentioned it that night in their cottage. If there had been anything strange about her death, Aaryana would have heard about it, too.
She supposed that Wyett being with his mother when she passed away wasn’t particularly gossip-worthy or unusual, anyway. What this new information did was help her understand Wyett better. The distance he kept between himself and others, the coldness.
Watching your mother die right in front of you, it would undoubtedly alter the very core of you. Kill a little piece of you. You would hate to lose anyone else that you loved, because you knew what true loss felt like, what it would take from you. Poor Wyett…
And now he thought he was about to lose his little brother, and was blaming himself for not being with him today, not spotting the signs.
“I wish you’d been at Court today,” Aaryana said quietly. She dropped her hand from him and took a couple of steps back.
Wyett turned around with a sigh. “If you’re about to tell me that you did miss me today,” he said with forced composure and a faint smile, “I’d say it’s not the best time.”
His mouth worked harder to stretch itself into a more discernible grin. He was trying to be brave. Trying to be kind and friendly. She didn’t deserve it.
Aaryana shook her head. “I’m about to tell you that you should blame me for everything. It’s my fault that your brother is so ill.”
He frowned in confusion.
“He asked me to train him today,” she said and Wyett’s eyes widened. “I agreed.”
She gulped as fury stiffened his body. His hands fisted and his nostrils flared. He didn’t seem to be breathing. She was surprised that he hadn’t screamed at her yet.
“I went easy on him, but I guess it was still too much,” she explained with a plea in her voice. “I didn’t know he was already quite sick. If I’d known, I never would have agreed.”
The Prince was still speechless, but his face was showing more confusion now. It was as though he could hear what she was saying but couldn’t understand what it meant and how it related to Seth’s current condition. He just stared and stared.
“Say something, Your Highness.”
Several times, he opened his mouth, but closed it again.
Eventually, he asked, “You trained him?”
Aaryana nodded.
“In what?” His voice was thick.
Swallowing, she said, “Combat.”
“Combat,” he repeated, eyes blinking rapidly.
She nodded. “Specifically, how to surprise your opponent with unexpected and unconventional manoeuvres.”
Wyett was breathing fast now, eyes wide and full of rage.
“I swear, I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I’d known—”
“I ordered you to stay away from him,” he said through clenched teeth. The sound was loud, sharp.
“We thought you’d gone away for the day—”
“So, you thought you’d go against my wishes?” Wyett barked. “You gave me your word—”
The Prince stopped abruptly, took a deep breath.
“I didn’t want to break my word,” Aaryana said, “but I couldn’t say no to him.”
Wyett sucked in a long breath. “Get out.”
She nodded and walked around him to the door.
“Of the Palace.”
Her hand froze around the doorknob. Her eyes began to sting.
“Leave the Palace, and never come back.”
“Your Highness?” The words were almost too quiet to hear.
She turned around to face him. He turned around to face her. His expression was unreadable.
“Get out of my home. I never want to see you again.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. She couldn’t leave now, not when Seth was so ill. She had to see him at least one last time.
“Your Highness, please—”
“Leave my sight before I change my mind and order your execution. Go!” The last word was a roar that made her jump.
The tears rolled down her cheeks. Nodding and swallowing and feeling more tears running down her face, Aaryana left the tower with shaky legs and a broken heart.
“I’m so sorry,” she choked out over and over as she descended the winding stairs, but Wyett was too far up the tower to hear her.
Chapter 12
Rudro had told Malin everything she needed to do in order to bring Myraa to him tonight. The Princess had agreed easily enough. Her only stipulation was that she’d blindfold Myraa to the secret door that opened to her secret route out of the Palace. Rudro approved it without hesitation. The secret passages were for the safety of the Royal Family—so they had a safe way out of the castle in an emergency.
No one, however trustworthy they may be, had any right to know which rooms these passages served, let alone know where exactly they were situated. Even Aaryana had never brought up the topic of her room’s hidden pathway in all the years that he’d known her. Really, it was a miracle that Malin was smuggling Myraa out of the castle through her room’s escape.
He was waiting for the girls in the Stone Ring. The empty stadium would provide great cover for their rendezvous. Since The Contest was over, the Ring wasn’t even subjected to the occasional inspection by Royal Guards. There was no need. Until the next tournament began, this place had no appeal to the people of the Island. Especially not this late at night.
As he paced Aaryana’s compartment on the ground level, his thoughts kept returning to the last time he’d been here, the last time Aaryana had been here. Rudro would never forget the horrific injuries she’d suffered at the hands of Lord Farzah. Never forget how quickly those wounds healed. No one had a right to a body that was so resilient.
No one should be able to hold their breath for as long as she did on the day he pulled her out of the sea. Well, she couldn’t remember if she was holding her breath… And the injuries she was sporting when she’d leaped into the water...
The sea had healed her.
He knew that now.
Everything Malin told him today, everything Aaryana had confided i
n him about her experience under water… Well, of course, Aaryana is a sea folk. Because Kanona was a sea folk. The Nidiyas were all sea folk, too. That was the only explanation for what Malin had learned. The threads that she’d unveiled were fraying from this tapestry.
The youngest Vijkanti Princess had no idea about any of this, but perhaps Myraa knew something? She was Aaryana’s closest friend and her family was very close to the Nidiyas. The girl’s father was in the dungeons for admitting to trying to summon a sea folk. To save Kanona from her looming death. Since he couldn’t take her to the sea, he thought he could bring the sea to her.
Or rather, bring the sea folk to her. Could they save their own kind from dying? The higher sea folk were believed to be immortal, weren’t they?
The Nidiyas were all higher sea folk, living on land.
Now, Rudro needed to know, what Kanona’s ancestors were trying to hide by changing the Tale of the Sea Princess all those years ago. Was there something in that story that could expose them for what they were? What could a tale from Roshdan—where Aaryana was banished to, a voice in his head kept reminding him—say about a family that emigrated from Khadak? Unless—
Unless, the Nidiyas were from Roshdan. Roshdan—where Aaryana is.
She shouldn’t have told him the truth. I shouldn’t have said anything, she thought hopelessly, as she dressed in the clothes she’d been in when she first set foot in this castle. Tears streamed down her face while she pulled on the black pants, black bodice, dark cloak, brown boots, and the jewellery she’d worn that day, including Rudro’s flower necklace. Almost everything she was wearing was from her Combat Master.
Then, she pocketed her sunlight stone and wiped her face dry. I’m leaving with what I came with and nothing else. She wasn’t even taking the things she purchased with the money she’d earned as a Royal Guard. That’s what Wyett would want. Oh, Wyett…
The Prince had only just started being civil towards her, being nice and friendly. Flirty, even. He was opening up to her about his mother. Opening himself up to her, letting her get close to him. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut?
But he was blaming himself for not being with his brother when his condition deteriorated; she couldn’t let him go on tearing himself to pieces like that. Of course, she hadn’t expected him to throw her out of the Palace—she didn’t think he’d do that without discussing it with his father—but she knew he’d punish her most severely.
This was the punishment that hurt her the most, and he’d chosen it because she’d caused the most damage to him. This is the second Palace I’ve been banished from…
The guards outside her chambers tried to follow her as she exited. She stopped and explained the situation. They didn’t believe her; the two guards that she’d known from the beginning—the ones that had been promoted by Wyett as her bodyguards—looked the most sceptical. They had followed her to the entrance of the eastern tower earlier tonight. Wyett had been waiting for her with his own bodyguards and had ordered them to stay outside before he led Aaryana to the meeting with the King. On the way back, her bodyguards had jogged to catch up with her as she’d left the tower in tears.
“One of you may go and confirm it with the Prince,” she told her guards. She sounded dead and detached. “I’ll wait here.”
Several seconds later, they realised that she was serious, and one of her bodyguards said, “I’ll go and check…”
“The Prince is probably still in the eastern tower,” she told him. The man nodded and strode away. He was back after a few minutes. Nodding at his colleagues, he said, “She can go.” He sounded shocked.
She could imagine what Lisbeth and her friends would say about the matter over breakfast tomorrow. Or perhaps news of Seth’s illness would dominate the dining table discussions?
“Goodnight, gentlemen,” she said in farewell and made to leave their midst. Then, she remembered. “There’ll be no reason to deliver my letters,” she told them over her shoulder.
The letters that she’d asked her bodyguards to take to the King, Wyett, Seth, and the Head of the Royal Guards, should she be away from the castle without reason were irrelevant now.
“You should burn them all. Tell Jeena ‘thank you’,” she added. “And I hope she feels better soon.”
Then, she sucked in a deep breath and walked out of the Royal Palace of Roshdan.
Rudro halted his pacing at the sound of approach and silently slipped into the shadows of the stone compartment. He blew out the candle that he’d brought in a chipped ceramic teacup and held himself as still as possible. A few seconds later, the compartment filled with lantern-light, exposing him and his visitors. His head told him he’d been joined by Malin and Myraa but his eyes weren’t ready to believe it.
“Rudro!” Myraa’s voice rang out in the stone chamber, echoed, and she promptly cupped her mouth with her hands, green eyes wide.
The girl was dressed in a way he’d never seen her: Men’s tunic and pants, boots, and her hair was hidden under a cap. Malin was in almost identical attire, but she’d donned a dark cloak, too.
Myraa turned to the Princess and asked, “This is who you wanted me to see, Princess?”
“Don’t call me that,” Malin rebuked. “Call me Ark.”
Myraa nodded, as though she’d been chastised for this reason a few times already tonight. Rudro concealed a smile. Malin hadn’t mentioned what identity she used when she was pretending to be a boy; he was pretty sure she didn’t go by the name of Ark. She made it up to give Myraa something to call her by.
“How are you, Myraa?” he asked as he walked up to her and squeezed the tops of her arms. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come to see you—”
“Of course, you couldn’t,” she told him with a shake of the head. “I’m alright.” A sad smile.
She didn’t seem as bright and chirpy as he remembered. There was a haunted look in her eyes and she seemed to have aged and matured quite a lot. But not in a good way…
“How are you, Rudro?”
“He’s fine,” Malin said impatiently before Rudro could answer. “He’s happy to see that you’re well and has something very important to tell you.”
“Yes,” Myraa said with a nod just as Rudro was about to open his mouth to explain why he’d summoned her. “Tell me, Rudro, why was I smuggled into a dark tunnel, asked to dress in these clothes, and sneak into the Stone Ring in the middle of the night? I’m still dizzy, by the way.” She frowned.
The Combat Master started speaking, but was interrupted by Malin. “Explain everything from the beginning, Rudro. But be quick about it. Myraa has to return to her rooms in time to get my sister’s morning bath ready. It’s not long until dawn.”
This is like being with Aaryana and Myraa. Smiling indulgently, Rudro gave Myraa all the information that he and Malin had exchanged in his office this afternoon. He watched the girl closely for her reaction. Nothing suggested that she was aware of the Nidiya family’s secret. But he knew her well enough to spot the precise moment when Myraa started asking herself the questions he’d asked himself a few hours ago. She was putting the threads together in the same way that he had.
By the time he was done talking, Myraa had clearly come to the same conclusion as him about Aaryana’s bloodline. Or close enough—after all, she didn’t know everything that Rudro knew. The girl may have seen Aaryana’s wounds looking significantly better after she’d nearly drowned in the sea, but she didn’t know that Aaryana saw Kanona in the water that day. Myraa had probably heard about the drama at the docks but only Rudro knew that the little boy’s warning was the same as the one Kanona gave Aaryana in the ocean.
“Well,” Myraa said after a long silence, “it’s obvious what needs to be done, isn’t it?” She turned to Malin who had taken a seat on the stone bench protruding from the wall. “I’ll go to the library as soon as we return to the Palace. I’ll say I’m there on the Queen’s orders, so I won’t need written permission to enter.”
“That’s what we w
ere hoping you’d do,” Rudro murmured. “I just haven’t yet decided whether you ought to search the stacks all night, or just ask one of the librarians about where the first edition of the Sea Princess’s tale might be.”
“I don’t think we should ask them unless we absolutely have to,” Malin repeated what she’d said in his office. “Especially not the one that Parth has spying on me.”
“And you weren’t sure whether the Head Librarian was in league with Parth, either,” Rudro remembered. Malin nodded at him grimly.
“But the Head Librarian is a wonderful lady,” Myraa declared. Rudro and Malin turned to her in surprise. “She wouldn’t turn spy for Parth or Leesha!”
“What makes you say that?” he asked her, furrowing his brows.
“She was very loyal to my Lady,” Myraa explained. It wasn’t hard to believe; Aaryana had been beloved amongst the majority of Adgaris. “I bumped into her soon after I was freed from the dungeons. She let slip that Parth should have forgiven my Lady and asked the King to let her remain in Adgar. Subrata wouldn’t do Parth’s bidding, I know she wouldn’t. I can ask her about the book outright and save time.”
“That makes sense,” Rudro conceded.
“No!” Malin jumped to her feet. “I don’t think we should trust anyone, not without trying to search for the book first. What if she tells the librarian that hassled me—”
“I’m sorry, Princess,” Myraa said with a guilty expression on her face. “You’re right. We need to be careful. I’ll search the library as many times as I can until I find the first edition.”
“Thank you, Lady Myraa.” Malin sat down again, relieved.
She was more like Aaryana than he’d ever thought. His favourite student would have been just as cautious and unwilling to trust anyone in the Palace these days. Rudro was impressed by Myraa backing down so easily. The girl had always stood up for what she believed in, always argued with Aaryana until she gave in.
Perhaps losing her friend, and her short stay in the dungeons, had broken her spirit, her resilience.