The Princess

by Andrea Ring

  “You make too many assumptions,” he says. “We cannot afford to sit around and think. We need to act.”

  “And you are assuming that action is necessary. We have come to a delicate place. We finally have the royal family on our side. If we take the wrong action, we may alienate them, or give them cause to align against us.”

  “The royals are one of the things we are against,” he says.

  “Only because they never supported equal rights. Only because they perpetuated the current injustices. If they take steps to better our caste, why would we still fight them? They are the quickest way to lifting us up.”

  The man stands. “I will do as you have instructed. You have a lot of faith in those in the palace. I hope you are not disappointed.”

  He gives me his back, and with a swish of his cloak, he departs.

  ***

  Maja greets me at the door of our room with a hug.

  “Everything settled?”

  “Yes and no.” I explain about my mysterious contact and how he seemed to know about our new relationship.

  “I do not think we’ve been followed by anyone,” Maja says, allaying my fears. “But the gods do know all, and we seem to share more than we should. Perhaps this man is in contact with one of us.”

  “I just don’t like the idea that my every move is being scrutinized,” I say. “Someone’s trying to manipulate the situation.”

  “As it has always been,” Maja says. “Just stay true to your heart and you will be fine.”

  I remove my cloak and sit on the edge of the bed. “Did you see her?”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “Kai has come to love her completely,” I say. “He is supporting her, and caring for her, and it won’t be long after the wedding that they will change things in the kingdom permanently.”

  “I can believe that the prince fell in love and therefore looks on our caste differently, but what of the king? How was his mind changed?”

  “He is dying,” I say. “A brain sickness. All he wants is for the prince to take the throne of a kingdom undivided.”

  “He’s dying? How long does he have?”

  “A moon or so.”

  “And the queen?”

  Maja bows his head. “She died yesterday. They are not announcing it until after the wedding.”

  I shake my head. “So this was all planned. The king knew Kai would take his place, and to appease our side, he orchestrated this marriage.”

  Maja nods. “That is how it started out. But things have taken on a life of their own, in a good way.”

  I fall back on the bed with a sigh.

  Maja comes over and props his arms on either side of me. He brushes my cheek with a kiss. “Shall we celebrate?”

  I smile and push up on his chest. “I thought you said you were going to court me.”

  “I intend to court every part of you.”

  I laugh, push him some more, and sit up. “I’ve never been courted, Maja. I know it’s a lot to ask, but can we court, for real?”

  He stands up straight and looks down at me, confusion in his eyes. “You’re refusing me?”

  “Never,” I say. “But this may be my only chance to feel like a lady.”

  Maja’s eyes soften. He takes my hand and kisses it.

  “Yes, my lady,” he says. “I will court you.”

  I smile at him. Then I grab a pillow off the bed and throw it at him.

  “What’s this?”

  “There aren’t any more rooms, so I won’t ask you to leave, but you’ll have to sleep on the floor.”

  LVIII. FAARIS

  I moved Anjali to my rooms. Manoj might have my head, as it’s hardly proper, but Nili has constant visitors, and Anjali needed more rest.

  We play a game of cards. I don’t know how Anj can concentrate with the goose egg on her forehead, but she claims she’d rather have a headache than be bored.

  “Snap!” she cries, throwing down a match. I growl and toss my cards at her. How am I losing to someone with a head injury?

  “You’re such a sore loser,” she says with a smile. “I never knew that about you.”

  “The last time we had a real conversation,” I say, “you were persuading me to steal some sweets from the kitchens while you ran away from the boys with cooties. You don’t know me.”

  “I guess not,” she says. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “I was born in the stables,” I begin, “on a starry night. Three priests prophecied my birth and arrived just as my mother delivered me, bringing gifts of gold and silver and gems.”

  “You made that up.”

  “If I told you the real story, you’d be dying of the boredom you so wanted to avoid.”

  Anjali laughs. “What else can we do?”

  “We can draw,” I say. “Kai left some of his parchment here.”

  “What am I, five? Adults don’t draw.”

  “Kai does.”

  She huffs a breath. “The last thing I want to do is something he likes to do.” She stretches her arms above her head. It makes her breasts press against her tunic, and I quickly look away. “What else?”

  “You can tell me about the dragons,” I say. “What were they like?”

  “Terrifying,” she says with a shiver. “And scaly. I thought maybe they’d feel similar to a snake, but their skin is much harder than that. And their necks! Their necks are so long and their heads can twist almost completely around. They’re just…terrifying.”

  “Tell me about the one you got to touch.”

  “I touched two females,” she says. “We’d separated them from their nestlings, and they still had their milk. They were in a lot of pain, Tanaya said. So we had to milk them.”

  I chuckle. “Hard to imagine a dragon teat.”

  Anjali laughs. “They’re similar to a cow’s udders. Sort of soft and squishy.”

  I shift in my chair. I must need to find a female immediately if talk of a dragon’s udders is making me twitchy.

  And I know the perfect one. Riva, one of the scullery maids, with her ripe breasts and nimble fingers. Maybe I can find her before she retires for the night.

  “Faaris,” Anjali says, waving a hand in my face. “Where did you go?”

  “Sorry,” I say.

  “You were thinking about tits, weren’t you?”

  My eyes widen, and then I laugh. “No! Maybe.”

  Anjali smiles. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”

  “What? You? I, uh…”

  She ducks her head. “Forget it. I’m just a kid to you. You don’t have to stay and play nursemaid.”

  “That’s not…that is, I didn’t even think…I haven’t thought…I see that you are…full grown.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking,” I say. “Are you offended that I haven’t jumped on you?”

  “Besides Tanaya and Nilaruna, I think I’m the only unmarried woman in the palace you haven’t jumped on. So, yes, I guess I am offended.”

  I rise. “I don’t think you could be more insulting if you tried. If this is how you seduce a man, I’d say you have a lot to learn.”

  “Is it not the truth?” she says. “Tanaya says you have a hard time getting to know someone, that you don’t really let anyone know you, and that you use sex as a way to keep women out of your heart.”

  “Tanaya sure does talk a lot.”

  Anjali smiles. “If she’s wrong, prove it. Tell me. I want to know.”

  “Why do you care?” I growl at her.

  “I want to know how you do it. I don’t want to let any man in ever again. I thought maybe if I did what you did, then…maybe my heart wouldn’t be vulnerable.”

  I sit back down. “You’re talking about Kai, right?”

  She nods.

  “I went through something similar recently. I spent some time with a girl…gods, I thought she was the one! Finally! She was beautiful, so beautiful, and she needed
me, and I thought that was all I needed. But then something happened and I was forced to examine my feelings more closely, and I realized…it wasn’t love. Love comes when you know someone all the way to their soul. When you trust them with your life. When their happiness is the reason for getting out of bed each morning. I didn’t have that with this girl — I hardly knew her. I created drama where there was none.”

  “You’re saying that what I feel for Kai isn’t love?”

  “I’m saying that sure, you like him and respect him and probably find him attractive…but true love comes from shared experiences and understanding. You had a dream of Kai in your head that was never reality. That’s all it was, a dream. It isn’t love.”

  Anjali goes to my bed and flops down on it. “You haven’t really ever looked for love, have you?”

  “No,” I say softly. “Manoj and I were both waiting. We wanted to marry around the same time as Kai. It never really occurred to me to fall in love.”

  “Mother wants me to find an occupation,” she says. “She wants me to be productive. And that’s ironic, since she married Father when she was eighteen and has only ever been a wife and mother.”

  “You have choices that she never had,” I say. “She only wants the best for you.”

  “The only thing I’m good at is something Father won’t let me do.”

  “If it starts with an s and ends in an x, I’m leaving,” I say.

  She laughs. “Archery, Faaris. I’m good with a bow.”

  “Archery? Excellent! I’ll take you out on the field tomorrow and you can show me.”

  “Really?” she says. “You’d let me practice on the soldiers’ field?”

  “Sure. It’ll be fun. How good are you?”

  “I shot a bird at three hundred paces.”

  I whistle under my breath. “No kidding. Are you using magic?”

  She bows her head. “Does that still count?”

  ***

  I make up a pallet on the floor so Anjali can have my bed.

  “I can’t sleep,” she whispers in the dark.

  “Do you need something?”

  “No. I’m just excited for tomorrow.”

  I chuckle. “It’s a big day. First archery, and then the feast.”

  “The feast,” she says. “I’d forgotten. I’ll have to see Father before that.”

  “Don’t worry. He’ll just be relieved that you’re safe.”

  “Do you think…will anyone ask me to dance?”

  I smile in the dark. “I will.”

  I hear her turn over in bed. “Thank you, Faaris. Sweet dreams.”

  “Good night, Anjali.”

  LIX. NILARUNA

  It’s late by the time Haady returns.

  “There’s no need to entertain me,” he says. “My duties took longer than I thought. You should get your rest. But I appreciate the offer.”

  “Just a cup of tea, then,” I say. “It’ll help us both sleep.”

  Haady bows and has a seat. I pour him a cup of tea and one for myself.

  “Kai just went to bed,” I say. “He asked me to thank you for your kindness to his in-laws.”

  “Anyone would have done the same.”

  “And Zara found you an acceptable room?”

  Haady nods. “I’m sharing with Abdul, the healer’s assistant. They’ve been most gracious.”

  “Saphala is on that hall,” I say. “She’s come down with an illness and needed to be near the healer. You might want to look out for her.”

  Haady frowns. “Oh dear. Nothing serious, I hope. I will try my best to avoid her. She doesn’t need me reminding her.”

  “Of what?” I ask.

  He sips his tea. “I fear I let my emotions get out of hand. I was hurt. I accused her of some things that weren’t very nice.”

  “I knew Saphala when we were younger,” I say. “She could be the best friend you ever had, she knew how to make you feel special, and then something else would catch her attention and you’d be left wondering what you did wrong.”

  “You understand her,” he says.

  “I think I have her figured out, but I can’t say I understand her.”

  Haady nods. “I want to ask you something, but if it pains you to speak of it, I won’t.”

  I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “It is about your accident.”

  I nod. “Go on.”

  “What caused it?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Do you know the cause?”

  I sip my tea with trembling hands. “I do. It was just an accident.”

  He blows out a breath. “Then it is not what I suspected. And I am much relieved.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “How do you know anything about it?”

  “I can’t do magic,” he says. “I’m one of the only ones not of the nobility in Bhutan who has no ability at all. When Saphala and I…as we got to know one another, I confided in her. I’d hoped that she could teach me.”

  “What does that have to do with the fire?”

  “She refused. She said that she’d tried to teach one other person, a boy who loved her, and since he didn’t listen to her instructions, he died. She said—”

  “Peter,” I whisper.

  “She didn’t tell me his name. Only that he was the brother of one of her friends, and she concluded that if one does not come upon their talents on their own, they are unfit for magic.”

  I set my cup down, sloshing half of the tea on the table, and make my way to the window.

  “Did you know they were close?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “I knew he loved someone, but I didn’t know it was her.”

  “Ever since I professed my love and Saphala turned on me, I’ve wondered about it. Did she turn on him, too?”

  “She wasn’t there. Even if she were the one who tried to teach him, she didn’t set the fire.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  I clench my fists. Damn her. Wherever Saphala goes, misery follows.

  “I didn’t ask you here to solicit information,” I say. “I sincerely wanted to thank you.”

  “Giving me a chance to unburden myself of Saphala’s misdeeds actually helps me a great deal,” he says. “I cannot pretend I don’t enjoy this, just a little bit.”

  I laugh and take my seat back. “You are young, and you are handsome. You have plenty of time to find love again.”

  “I have love,” he says. “That’s the ironic part about it. I’m not only Lord Parsa’s assistant, but his companion as well.”

  “Is that common in Bhutan?” I ask. “It is not unheard of here and in Dabani, but it is unusual.”

  “I wouldn’t say our relationship is commonplace, but it is not frowned upon.”

  “Did Lord Parsa know of your relationship with Saphala?”

  Haady smiles. “He encouraged it, actually. When Saphala first arrived…gods, was she a trial. She pursued any man who would give her the time of day. When she became the laughingstock of my lord’s dinner party conversation, he asked me to try to keep her attention. He didn’t care if I actually bedded her or not, but he wanted her well distracted.” He sighs. “Instead, I am the one who became distracted.”

  “You must miss home,” I say. “If you’d like to return, I could procure a ship.”

  “Thank you, but I really would like to stay for the wedding. I feel like I’m part of something momentous here.”

  He sets his teacup on the table and stands. “You have the feast tomorrow, and the wedding the day after. I will leave you to get some rest. Thank you, Lady Nilaruna, for being such a gracious hostess.”

  I stand and bow. “And thank you for your generosity. If there’s anything you need, you have but to ask.”

  Haady bows low and takes his leave.

  ***

  I like Haady. He’s congenial, and he’s spoken nothing but the truth.

  But there’s something I’ve learned since developing my skills: what someone says
is often not as important as what they don’t say.

  Especially if they know I can detect a lie.

  Haady is not simply here and doing good deeds to show his support for me. If he were, he’d go out of his way not to speak of Saphala, because the memory of her and what she’s done must pain him.

  But he admitted taking pleasure in letting me know what she’d done.

  He wants to ruin her.

  I could have simply asked him if he were the one on that boat. I’m almost sure of it, now. I don’t know why I didn’t ask, except that if something happens — dare I admit this, even to myself? — perhaps I want to believe that I didn’t see it coming.

  Karma is the will of the gods. If Haady harms Saphala, it is no more, and no less, than she deserves.

  Listen to me! Condoning murder! Gods, I even encouraged it, putting Haady in a room close to her. If something truly does happen to her, do I care?

  She didn’t care about Peter.

  I’ll just try to fall asleep. If I sleep well, my conscience is clear. And if I toss and turn all night…I’ll figure it out in the morning.

  LX. TANAYA

  Anjali slips in my door before sunrise. Manoj is on the floor, snoring, and I’m sweating with pain, staring at the ceiling.

  “It’s me,” she says. “Are you up?”

  “Light a candle,” I say. “Right there by the door. Don’t step on Manoj.”

  “Manoj? He slept with you?”

  “Not with me,” I say, “just in the same room. Manoj? Honey?”

  Anjali lights the candle and moves to him. She pushes at his arm. “Time to get up, Manoj. There are lectures to give and manners to correct.”

  He grunts and sits up. “What time is it?”

  “Dawn,” she says. “Father’s on his way. You probably want to be gone.”

  “I’m staying,” he says, rubbing a hand through his hair.

  A knock sounds on the door, and Nilaruna pokes her head in. “May I come in?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Father’s coming. I need something to cover myself.”

  “Only the stitching should be dressed and covered,” she says, “but there’s a sheet of linen on that shelf. You can use it when you have visitors.”

  Manoj gets up and pulls the sheet out. He tenderly covers me.

  “How are you feeling?” Nili asks.