The Princess

by Andrea Ring

  “Are they prepared to make trouble?” Jagir asks.

  “Not that we know of. They’ve been instructed to gather information only. But my gut says that they will try to gain an audience with Nilaruna. I have no information to support this feeling, but it’s what I would do in their situation.”

  “Agreed. How is the training going?”

  I smile. “Faster now that Tanaya is there. The men weren’t making any headway. They needed a woman’s touch.”

  “And you were just lamenting the fact that you have seven daughters. Our greatest weapon, our greatest defense, now lies in Tanaya’s hands. Thank the gods you didn’t have sons.”

  I chuckle. “I never anticipated Tanaya’s connection with animals would be useful to the kingdom. Thank my wife for that. If it had been up to me, I would never have let her learn to ride a horse, let alone any other creature.”

  “We can’t protect them forever,” Jagir says, bowing his head. “I’m finally learning that. We need our children. The kingdom depends on them.”

  “We certainly needed Tanaya.”

  “How long until they’re ready?”

  “She’d like two moons, but one will be adequate.”

  Jagir frowns. “Too long. They need to be ready to go in two weeks.”

  “Impossible,” I say, shaking my head. “She only arrived a few days ago. The creatures are only beginning to trust her.”

  “I don’t care,” he says. “Send her a missive from me personally. In two weeks, I want to see dragons swarming the skies over the palace.”

  XI. FAARIS

  A few hours on the practice field does nothing for my mood. All I am is hot, sweaty, and tired.

  Manoj was so logical in his assessment of my situation with Saphala. Since he assumed Saphala wasn’t pure, he also assumed that I had assumed it, which I hadn’t. I should have. After all, she kissed me on our journey home, and a proper maiden wouldn’t have been so forward. But sadly, I just took it as a sign of my irresistible nature.

  Good gods, Faaris, you’ve been friends with Manoj your entire life! Think like he would!

  Okay.

  Saphala was a slave and is not pure. Noted. Accepted. Not my first choice, but there’s nothing to be done about it. I have bedded my share of young ladies, and I wouldn’t consider any of them unworthy. Done.

  Saphala may be sick.

  Let me assume she is. I cannot bed her or marry her knowing I will contract the Great Pox. And I do not wish her to die. So if I want to marry her, I must find a way to cure her.

  There is no earthly cure.

  But what about an unearthly cure? I can do magic now. Maybe…

  I enter my rooms and throw my swords to the floor. I shrug out of my breastplate and discard my vambraces. I grab a dagger from my desk.

  I cut a long slice on my left forearm. A line of blood runs down my arm and trickles onto the carpet.

  Heal! I command myself.

  Nothing happens. The cut begins to sting.

  I scrunch my forehead in concentration. Heal!

  Nothing.

  I grab a cloth and wind it around the wound. My talents lie in other areas.

  I need to find a healer for Saphala.

  XII. SAPHALA

  Faaris hasn’t returned, and Nili hasn’t visited, either.

  I may be ensconced in the royal palace, surrounded by servants and protected by guards, but in the end, I’m discarded like the untouchable my father doomed me to be.

  But I am not without choices. The game isn’t over until you are dead.

  And I still breathe.

  I still haven’t revealed my greatest weapon. I must be patient, though, because Nili is actively using magic, and I could well be found out before the time is right. She forced my hand with Faaris, and I saw the look on his face when I made my confession — I disgusted him. He tried to hide it, but he couldn’t. He may be lost to me.

  But so what? Faaris has never been a part of my plan. Kai is the one I wanted.

  And the only reason I put Kai out of my mind was Nilaruna, my friend who helped rescue me.

  My friend who turned on me.

  I will go back to my original plan. I have six days before the wedding. That should be time enough. The question is, how far should I go? How far is necessary to split them up and turn Kai’s attention to me?

  Am I prepared to go all the way?

  Of course.

  I pen a quick note to my father and send it off with one of my servants. I don’t particularly care if Father’s worried, but Uncle may try to contact me, and I do not want him or one of his servants showing up. My uncle needs to know I’m following through on the plan.

  And as of this moment, I am.

  XIII. NILARUNA

  Kai insists on descending the stairs ahead of me in case I lose my balance, and I don’t argue. He’s already been patient with me, and I know this meeting will be difficult for him. He is expecting to hear some unsavory things, perhaps about his own parents, and there’s no need for me to aggravate him further.

  The temperature changes noticeably as we descend, and I shiver involuntarily. My clammy fingers sliding on the wall to steady myself begin to stick to the frozen rock. My labored breaths begin to steam in the frigid air.

  “Getting colder,” Kai says. “Do you need my cloak?”

  “I’m fine,” I say, grabbing the back of his tunic for support so I don’t have to touch the wall. “Do you mind?”

  He smiles over his shoulder. “Not at all. Almost there.”

  Twenty more steps, and we reach the bottom.

  Rough-chiseled black granite surrounds us. We’re at the end of a long hallway, torches lit and hung every ten paces, throwing shadows and hissing as they burn. Two guards stand a few feet away, and they nod at us in acknowledgement.

  “We’re here to see the seamstress,” Kai says.

  One of the guards turns and walks away from us. We follow.

  He stops at the seventh cell on our right. “Do you wish entry?”

  Kai shakes his head. “That’s not necessary. You may return to your post.”

  I’ve already made eye contact with Mita. She’s wrapped in a fur, sitting on a plush divan, sipping tea from a delicate cup. Whorls of sweet steam curl around Mita’s cheeks as she drinks.

  Some prisoner.

  She sets the cup on the floor, throws her blanket aside, and pads to the bars of her cell.

  “I heard you were dead,” she says, stopping two paces away from us.

  “Your information is not always correct,” I say.

  She tips her head at me. “One must always consider the source. In this case, I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re alive.”

  “And who is this source you speak of?” I ask.

  “It does not matter, for I will never listen to them again.”

  “You seem quite emotionless about Nilaruna’s supposed demise,” Kai says. “One might get the impression that you wanted her dead.”

  “One might be wrong.”

  “Did you want me dead, Mita?” I ask.

  “No.”

  Truth.

  “Why did you try to poison the king?”

  “I didn’t,” she says. “Had I wanted Jagir dead, he would be.”

  Truth.

  Kai looks at me, but I don’t move my eyes from Mita.

  “Did you know the wine was poisoned?”

  “Of course not.”

  Truth.

  “Where did you get the wine?” I ask.

  “I had one of my servants fetch it from my personal stock.”

  “Who has access to those bottles?” Kai asks.

  “Me and my servants.”

  I cock my head. “Do you think the poison could have been meant for you?”

  Mita smiles and rolls her eyes. “I would know of any treachery in my own chambers. My servants are loyal to a fault.”

  “And you would know of the treachery because…you have a talent for knowing?” Kai says.<
br />
  Mita tips her head at him.

  “Explain this magic,” he says. “How does it work?”

  “I cannot read thoughts, if that’s what you’re asking,” she says. “If someone has ill thoughts about me, or ugly feelings, I get goose flesh.”

  Kai raises an eyebrow at me. I can only shrug. She’s telling the truth, even if it sounds a bit unconventional. Though I’m hardly an expert at magic. How would I know what’s unconventional or not?

  “Do you know what happened after you were imprisoned?” I ask.

  “Apparently not. As you said, my information is not always correct.”

  “Why did you keep my sister a secret?” Kai asks.

  Mita turns away from us and goes back to her divan. She sits down heavily. “Why should I answer you? Why isn’t Jagir here himself?”

  “You know why he’s not here,” I say, and Mita blinks a few times. Her eyes shine with unshed tears.

  She nods.

  “So if you want to live,” I say, “you need to answer our questions. The king has nothing to lose at this point. He’s prepared to take you with him.”

  “If only,” she whispers.

  “I ask again, why keep my sister a secret?” Kai grips the bars and stares at her hard.

  “To punish him,” she whispers. “Zara is the very best of me. He didn’t deserve her.”

  Truth.

  “Tell us of your involvement with the rebellion,” Kai says.

  “No.”

  “We’re sympathetic, Mita,” I say. “This is a cause that’s important to both of us. But it doesn’t have to mean war. We can save lives, and we can change things for thousands of untouchables.”

  “No.”

  “You do not wish to save your own life?” I ask her.

  “Zara is the only thing that matters to me now,” she says. “I love Jagir, but we all know he’s going to die. I would have protected him had the rebellion begun, but now, that would be futile. All I do is for Zara.”

  “So you want to make Zara queen,” Kai says.

  “No.”

  Truth.

  I nod. “So if Zara being queen is not the end goal, what is it? Why hide the secrets of the rebels and be put to death in the process?”

  “You and Jagir are not the only ones who know of Zara’s existence.”

  My eyes widen. “You mean they will kill her if you talk.”

  Mita nods.

  “Is Kai in danger from the rebels?”

  She shrugs. “He was. But plans have changed. I do not know what has been decided in the last two days. And I wouldn’t tell you if I knew.”

  Truth.

  I see Kai’s knuckles whiten on the bars. “Did you try to kill my mother?”

  Mita sighs. “When a woman is with child, she loses her mind. That is my only defense.”

  Kai snorts. “It’s a wonder half the husbands in the kingdom aren’t dead.”

  Mita frowns. “Make all the jokes you like. Wait until Nilaruna is with child. Wait until she walks in on you in bed with your favorite mistress. Wait until that lady calmly climbs from the bed, nude, laughing at her, displaying all her considerable assets. Wait until Nilaruna sits alone, discarded like a pebble from your shoe, while you frolic in the next bedchamber. Just you wait.”

  “Are you saying my mother did that? That she laughed at you?”

  “Too many times to count. I had Jagir’s love, so I took her scorn. But when he threw me out, and he threw our child out…”

  I put a hand on Kai’s arm. He looks down at me, and I tip my head to the guards. “Go for a walk. Let me finish up.”

  Kai rattles the bars once and drops his hands. He stalks off down the hallway.

  My hip throbs. I lower myself to the floor.

  “I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through, my lady.”

  Mita shakes her head. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

  “I know what it’s like to be an outcast,” I say. “To not be given a chance because of something completely out of your control. To have no say in the course of your own life.”

  “And yet here you are, Nilaruna, a grotesque untouchable, about to become queen.”

  “And yet if you’d known me a moon ago, you’d know that this was not what I wanted for my life. People and events have manipulated my role here. I am trying to make the best of it that I can.”

  “As did I.”

  “Do you feel no remorse for what you put Queen Silvia through?”

  Mita looks away. “I do not know what she’s been through. My spies were never able to penetrate her guards or servants. Since no one has seen her since the accident, I assumed my actions did lead to her death. But Jagir never came back to me. I know that if Silvia were truly dead, he would have come back. Did he ship her to another province?”

  “Queen Silvia has been incapacitated since the accident,” I tell her. “She’s alive, but she cannot speak, cannot walk, cannot feed herself.”

  Mita closes her eyes. “Dear gods.”

  “What you did was worse than murder.”

  Mita lies down on her side and curls into a ball.

  Our conversation is over.

  I slowly climb to my feet.

  “Nilaruna.”

  I pause. Mita hasn’t moved.

  “Zara knows nothing,” she whispers. “Rebel spies are probably already roaming the capital. When they find out I’m here…please. Please protect her.”

  Truth.

  But such protection is not up to me. So I say nothing.

  XIV. HAADY

  As the high priest predicted, I have no trouble finding the Parsa home. It makes me wonder what nefarious people Fadi Parsa has aligned himself with to merit such ostentatious surroundings.

  I don’t have much of a plan. As soon as Saphala sees me, I’m sure she will scream for help and claim I’m here to harm her, maybe that I’m a kidnapper of small children or a killer of fluffy bunnies. Who knows. Saphala can spin a pretty yarn with the tip of her forked tongue, so I need to catch her alone and by surprise.

  So I don’t go to the door.

  Fadi is a fisherman. Perhaps he is out at sea, even now.

  The Parsa manse is the only home on the shore-side of the lane. Shacks, lean-tos, and meager huts are crammed on top of each other on the opposite side, and — still giving the manse a wide berth — a mini market bustles with activity at the dry edge of the shore, spilling out into the lane. Fishermen hawk their catches to merchants, who will bring the bounty to the central markets for sale, without the nobler classes having to sully themselves by interacting with the untouchables.

  The same system exists in Bhutan, and it sickens me. The entire merchant class creates nothing and bolsters the current inequities of the castes. The untouchables do all the work, but they barely profit from their labors.

  Except Fadi Parsa seems to be profiting.

  I make my way down the lane, about a half a league past the manse and into the heart of the market. No one pays me any attention.

  “Could you point me to the stall of Fadi Parsa?” I ask an old woman carrying a basket of shark fins.

  “Fadi at home,” she says, nodding her head in the direction of the manse. “Broke his leg.”

  “When was this?”

  “Last week.” The woman continues on her way, and I keep pace beside her.

  “Are his daughters tending to the fishing in his absence?”

  The woman stops and laughs. “You funny, you!” she says, poking me with her basket. “Saphala wouldn’t touch a fish unless it shit gold coins! And Lili’s gone, don’t you know?”

  “I didn’t know,” I say. “Where did she go?”

  “She come and go, come and go, always with Shiva. Fadi worries, but Shiva no let harm come to her. Never. Lili’s fine.”

  “Of course,” I say. “Is Saphala at home then? Helping Fadi?”

  The woman shrugs. “We no see her. She like a cockroach, scurrying about at night when the rest of u
s sleep. She think she belong somewhere else.”

  Indeed she does. Like the seven hells.

  I thank the woman and head back to the manse. If Saphala is there, it is only with her crippled father. I can make up a story — that Lord Parsa has arranged a meeting for Saphala with the prince, and I need to accompany her to the palace — and I can take care of her on the journey to Indrapur. That should work.

  A lathered horse suddenly comes galloping down the lane past me, heading straight for the Parsa home. The rider rears up outside the door and jumps off his steed. He raps smartly on the door. I cross over to the far side of the lane and lean casually against a tree.

  Someone shouts from inside. Several minutes later, a man with the look of Lord Parsa, though decidedly more parched and leathery in the face, opens the door. He leans heavily on two gnarled tree branches and is breathing hard.

  “Thank you for your patience, sir,” he says with as deep a bow as he can manage. “I’m not running races today.”

  The rider nods and holds out a missive. “A message from your daughter, sir. I am to wait for a reply, if you have one.”

  Fadi tucks the tree branches under his armpits and takes the message with a shaking hand. After scanning it, he holds it to his chest.

  “Tell Saphala that I wish her good fortune with the prince, and that I will send a message immediately to my brother. And tell her…tell her I send my love.”

  “Is that all, sir?”

  “Would you like a drink of water before returning to the palace?”

  The rider bows. “The offer is appreciated, but I will be on my way. Good day to you.”

  “Good day.” And Fadi closes the door.

  My head spins. Damn her!

  How the hell did Saphala get to the palace? How did she meet the prince?

  The old woman said Lili is cared for by Shiva, hence the grand mansion, I presume. Could Shiva be helping Saphala on her quest as well?

  It seems the only explanation. Only a god could pull off what Saphala has accomplished.

  I straighten my shoulders and march across the lane. I knock soundly on the door.