“I’ll tell Prince Pavan you wish to visit a bit longer with your sister,” Janak said. “That will give Captain Tarak time to retrieve the crew. A message to the captain about our impending departure shouldn’t raise suspicions.” With a short nod, Janak strode from the room and closed the door behind him.
Seledri hurried to a small armoire tucked in the side of the room. The furniture looked mismatched, like it had been brought in from elsewhere. Her sister quickly dug through it, pulling out traveling breeches, a loose-sleeved jacket, and a leather vest that was just shy of a corset. Finally, she pulled out a voluminous black hooded cloak. Aniri watched as she dressed, worry eating at her thoughts, now that the threat of abandoning her sister had receded.
“Seledri,” she said quietly.
Her sister looked up from lacing her vest loosely around the bump that was Aniri’s future niece or nephew.
“What if Pavan isn’t the one behind your assassination attempt?” Aniri asked. “Are you certain you want to do this?”
Clouds of doubt crossed her sister’s face. “I don’t want to think it’s him, Aniri. He’s the father of my child. And if you’d asked me before the baby, I would have said no, Pavan isn’t that kind of man. He was one of the few who treated me like I was something more. Worth something beyond my duty as Second Daughter.” The tormented look was back. “That’s what I thought. Until the political winds shifted. Until having a Dharian wife was something less politically sound. And having a half-Dharian heir became something that would come between him and the crown he always thought would be his. Then… then he became just like everyone else.”
Aniri caught a glimpse of the bitter pain in her sister’s eyes before she pressed them closed, as if shutting out the awful reality of the idea. She took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, a steely determination had taken the place of the pain.
“I may be wrong, but I can’t take the chance.” Seledri rested a hand on her belly. “I’ve more than just myself to think about now.”
Aniri cringed at her sister’s words, but she didn’t dispute them. Even Pavan mentioned he might be in a fight for the crown. It still didn’t make sense, given his apparent pain about Seledri being in danger. But he was already telling lies to his people about her death. The rest could easily be a ruse as well. And if this was all a grand misunderstanding of words and actions, then words and actions might plausibly fix it. Apologies made. Fences mended. But if Pavan was truly a danger to her sister, well, there was no bringing Seledri’s handmaiden back from the dead. Leaving her sister unprotected was the kind of mistake Aniri would not be able to fix, once it was made.
An hour passed as they waited to hear back from Captain Tarak about the recall of the Prosperity’s crew. Janak remained in the main room with Prince Pavan and his guard while Aniri spoke quietly with Seledri. Some of the color came back to her sister’s cheeks as they talked, and she even smiled once or twice as they spoke of her time in Samir. It wasn’t entirely awful, but the stretches of loneliness and heartache were etched in the small downturns of her lips and the gallows humor that had replaced Seledri’s always warm disposition. Pavan was right about one thing: two years in Samir had taken a toll on her beautiful sister.
Aniri was sitting cross-legged on the bed with Seledri when a muffled grunt came through the closed door to the main room. Before Aniri could work herself loose from the bed, Janak opened the door and held it wide, beckoning them out. Beyond him, Pavan and his guard lay crumpled on the floor.
“I take it Captain Tarak has boarded the crew?” Aniri asked Janak as she passed, her gaze fixed on the inert forms of the First Son and his guard. The guard’s face held no expression, but the prince’s was frozen in silent pain.
“Unfortunately, Karan has not yet returned to the ship,” Janak said.
Aniri whipped her head around. “Where is he?”
“I imagine he is carrying out your royal highness’s instructions.”
Of course. She had sent him off to discern the Samirians’ capabilities for war. Ones they may soon be discovering first hand. “Is there any possibility we can retrieve him before we depart?”
“I will message the captain about our new plans as soon as we have reached the edge of the city. For now, he’s awaiting us at the palace.”
A trickle of hope made her nod. “So Karan may yet find his way on board before we leave.”
“It’s possible,” Janak said. “But it’s more likely we will be forced to leave him behind. Then he’ll have to find his own way to Jungali. Or perhaps he will stay here. He is Samirian after all.”
“He is one of us,” Aniri said.
“Understood.” Janak’s attention was drawn to Seledri, who was standing over Pavan’s body, hand covering her mouth, tears glassing her eyes.
Aniri hurried to her side and grabbed her hand, tugging her away from the sight of her husband lying unconscious on the floor. “He’s fine, Seledri.” She cast a quick look to Janak to verify that, and he nodded. Aniri urged her toward the door. The sooner they left, the better.
“There’s one more thing, your most royal highness,” Janak said as he lifted the aetheroceiver off the dining table. He held out a thin strip of paper to her. “It’s from Prince Malik.”
Aniri took it and read the neatly printed letters of Janak’s transcription.
ANIRI: HEAR SELEDRI IS WELL. MESSAGE YOUR EXPECTED RETURN.
Captain Tarak must have relayed the news back to Ash, or at least the story she told the crew. Aniri had never replied to his first message and neither could she respond to this one. Aetheroceiver communiques were necessarily terse: she couldn’t tell if he was still angry, or merely impatient. But any response she could send would be meaningless—she couldn’t tell him their true plans, not until they were well and truly away. And by then it would be obvious. Or possibly the news would race across the sea ahead of them, as it became known that they had taken the First Son’s wife and child. Aniri supposed she could conjure a reassuring communique that was fit for spying eyes, but there was no time. She crumpled the slip of parchment, stuffed it in the pocket of her cloak, then put up its hood.
“How will we find our way through the city?” she asked Janak.
He raised an eyebrow for her obvious dodge on the subject of Ash’s note. “During our flight in, I noticed the grid of the city’s streets are neatly laid out, with the palace at the far eastern edge along the mountains and the main city gates to the west. We can orient to the palace, then follow the streets.”
Aniri gripped Seledri’s hand in a reassuring way. “Let us be on our way, then.”
Janak held out his hand, gesturing for them to go first. Once they were out the door, he used a key he had obviously lifted from Pavan to lock the door behind them. Aniri dropped Seledri’s hand as Janak gave her sister the aetheroceiver to carry, but stayed close to her side. They weaved through the hallways, past the closed doors of the courtesans and their desperate work, and down the dimly lit stairwell to the main floor.
The inn’s customers had swelled in number and volume: the scuffling of boots and gruff voices fought to be heard over the sharp clinking of ale bottles and shot glasses. Aniri tried to stand tall while still hiding her face and working her way around clusters of patrons. Hopefully, no one would notice, or bother with, their quick retreat. She was only a dozen paces from the weathered front door when a cloaked figure, who had been leaning against the wall, pushed away and strode to intercept them.
Aniri tried to slip past him, but he stopped her with a single word. “Aniri.” A chill ran through her body, and she stopped, nearly colliding with Janak behind her. The man’s face was shadowed by a hood, but he quickly threw it back. “I just want to talk.”
It was Devesh.
She gaped. At the same moment, a blur of motion to her side resolved into Janak. Before Aniri could blink, her raksaka had his hand on Devesh’s throat, and her former lover was on his knees, his dark leather cloak dusting the floor around hi
m.
The bar sounds stilled around them.
Seledri whispered, “Janak,” with a warning tone. A nearby group with several leather-cloaked men and one heavily-armed woman looked on with interest, but didn’t move to interfere. Aniri’s heart pounded. She was certain Janak could handle any of them in a fist fight, but an image of one pulling a pistol on them—just like Garesh sending a bullet straight through Janak’s chest on the skyship—flashed through her mind and made her heart stutter. Janak was armed, but the patrons had numbers on their side.
“Not here,” Aniri whispered, tight and low.
Janak’s face was splotched with anger, and she imagined he was already restraining himself, simply by the fact that Devesh was still breathing. A tension-laden second later, Janak released him and leaned back, still keeping his body between Devesh and the Daughters.
Her ex-lover coughed and choked but slowly worked his way to standing. The group of onlookers snickered and lost interest, returning to their ale bottles and furtive discussions.
Devesh rubbed his throat. “I just want to talk, Aniri, I swear.” He glanced around. “Perhaps this is not the best place.”
“Yes,” Janak said, voice like ice. “Perhaps we should remove ourselves to an alleyway where I can kill your courtesan in peace, my lady.”
Devesh’s bronzed face paled, and his eyes grew wide. He looked rapidly between Aniri and Janak, as if he expected her to save him.
Even though Devesh had failed to lift a finger to save her from General Garesh.
Indeed, he had held her in his arms while Garesh drugged her. All the rage came flashing back at once, a heated volcano that scorched her face with shame at her own foolishness and anger at Devesh for pretending at love all while betraying her. Before she realized what she was doing, Aniri stepped forward and slapped him soundly with her open palm. It stung her hand and barely moved his face, but a flush of satisfaction coursed through her. She considered following it up with an actual punch to the face, but Devesh dropped his gaze and had the decency look ashamed.
The chuckles and pointed fingers of their onlookers brought Aniri out of her haze of anger. “There is nothing you have to say that I want to hear.” She kept her voice low, not wanting to put on any more of a show for fear they would all be recognized. And Devesh had already used her name once—she didn’t want to give him a chance to do it again.
“Step aside, Dev.” She left hanging the idea that if he didn’t, Janak would force him to.
“Who is this man?” Seledri whispered to Aniri.
“My courtesan.” Aniri used her most disdainful royal voice, and another flush of warm gratification filled her when he cringed. Seledri’s eyes narrowed with understanding.
Devesh didn’t move. “You have every reason to hate me. But I can help you.”
“We don’t need your help.” Aniri stepped to the side, intending to brush past him, but Janak caught her arm and gently pulled her back.
“We can’t leave him here, my lady,” he said quietly. “We don’t have that luxury.”
She frowned, but then took his meaning. Of course, they couldn’t simply let Devesh go. He knew who they were, and he had been working with the ambassador: not only might he foil their escape from the city, but he knew the very people who developed the plans for the second skyship. He was a danger to all of them.
Then she realized: Janak was serious about killing him.
Aniri’s eyes went wide, and she flashed a look at Devesh. He must have taken Janak’s meaning at the same time she did, because a panicked look seized his face. Before he could move, Janak locked a hand around his arm and pulled Devesh close.
“Don’t make a scene,” Janak said quietly, “and I won’t be forced to kill you here.”
Devesh’s jaw clenched, and he gave a short nod, but it was hardly required. Janak frog marched him through the door of the inn.
Aniri and Seledri hurried to follow.
The street was bright with the midday sun, and hurried movements and swirling cloaks of the four of them would have drawn more notice had they stayed amongst the pedestrians and city traffic. But Janak hauled Devesh into an alley two shops down from the inn and shoved him up against the wall. Seledri and Aniri quickly turned the corner to follow.
Aniri’s heart pounded like she had just climbed a mountain in the short walk to the dirty alley. It was empty of onlookers or witnesses. She loathed Devesh and hated the danger he brought to her country and those she loved. He had betrayed her in the most vile way. And yet she had once loved him. She couldn’t bring herself to want him dead.
Devesh pressed his back against the rough cobblestone wall of the alley, as if he was trying to shrink into it and escape, even though Janak no longer touched him.
Her raksaka had stepped back, regarding Devesh coolly. “By your leave, your majesty, I’ll dispose of this trash so we can be on our way.”
Devesh’s hands flew up, palms forward, begging for his life. “You can’t let him kill me, Aniri.” His voice shook, but he rushed his words out before Janak decided which fatal blow to strike. “Your father sent me to find you.”
“What?” Aniri lurched closer to him, sure she had misunderstood his words.
“Your father wants me to bring you to him.” He was still breathless.
“What are you… How did you…?” Words tangled in her mouth as her thoughts sped to catch up. Could it possibly be true? Did Devesh know where her father was?
“He’s a liar and a Samirian, my lady.” Janak stepped closer to Devesh, who tried to melt into the wall again. Janak’s hand flexed, then curled half-closed. “Let me kill him.”
“Janak!” Aniri’s admonishment stayed Janak’s hand, but he only turned his cold anger on her instead.
“We have any of a number of reasons that justify it, your most royal highness. Not least that I see no reasonable alternative that would allow us to proceed with our plans.”
“I just… I want to hear him out.”
“Aniri.” Her sister had edged up behind her. “What is he talking about? Our father is dead.”
Aniri looked to Janak, who had eased back from his imminent strike on Devesh. He thinned his lips and gave a small shake of his head. Seledri didn’t know about their father. Janak had called it a moment of weakness, letting the secret slip to Aniri. And now he was telling her to keep it from her sister. But Aniri couldn’t bring herself to do that, not when their father might be here in the Samirian capital. Not when he might have, somehow, someway, sent Devesh to find her.
Her father is seeking her out.
It raised such a vortex of emotion that she was unable to speak.
“Aniri?” Her sister clutched the aetheroceiver to her chest, waiting for an answer. Devesh looked between the three of them. He would probably have blurted it out already if he wasn’t afraid Janak would kill him for it.
Of course, it was possible Devesh was lying about everything. He had lied about so much, there was no way to be certain. Her father was out there somewhere, unless he had met an untimely death since he had run away from his royal obligations. She couldn’t imagine he had travelled back to Dharia, where he would be recognized, or Jungali, where he would be immediately known as someone from the plains. But that didn’t mean he was still in the capital. Maybe he had fled to some remote village in the many boroughs tucked between the mountains.
Aniri had promised not to run off looking for her father. And as tempting as it was to believe her father had somehow known Devesh and had sent him after her, none of that mattered. Her only purpose now was to get her sister safely out of the country.
Yet Seledri had the right to know their father still lived.
Aniri took her sister’s hand and peered into her anxious eyes. “Our father is alive. There were no Samirian robbers who set upon him. He ran away from us, Seledri. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this.”
Her sister leaned back, her face the picture of horror Aniri remembered feeling so keenly when she
first found out. The haze of that moment had crippled her. And had sent her into the arms of Devesh, seeking solace. But this time, Aniri would share that burden, make it easier for her sister.
“But none of that matters now—” Aniri said softly.
“He’s been watching you, Seledri.” Devesh’s voice was quiet but it roared through Aniri’s ears.
She whirled on him. “We do not need any more lies from you!”
He held her gaze. “I didn’t have to come after you, Aniri. When I saw you on the street, I could have just let it go. Walked away. But I knew, if you were here, in the city, then you had to be after her.” He glanced at Seledri. “Or the rumors were true, and the Queen-to-be was in fact dead, in spite of Prince Pavan’s claims. In which case… I know you, Aniri. You would be after her killers. And that was a dangerous course. I had to warn you—”
“Do not!” Aniri surged forward, a finger raised like she might impale him with it. “Do not pretend you care for me.”
Again, he downcast his eyes, looking guilty, but Aniri wasn’t pulled in by it. She knew it was all lies within lies.
“Of course, you have no reason to believe a word from me. I understand that.” He looked up again, expression soft. “But maybe you’ll believe your father.”
“I don’t believe anything you say.” Aniri spit her words at him, but they were lies. She knew it as soon as they left her lips. Worse, she could see Devesh knew it, too.
“Aniri, what’s all this?” Her sister’s voice was shaky behind her. “Is our father really alive? I don’t understand. Why did our mother tell us he was dead?”
Aniri cringed, but she supposed there was no avoiding it. “What could the Queen do? Her King left her. It would have weakened the people’s confidence to know.”
Seledri nodded, slowly. Her mind had to be still processing all of it. “And we were still girls, then.”
“I think she thought to spare us with the lie.”
Seledri let out a long breath. “That is so very like Mother, isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes at Devesh. “Can we believe this courtesan? That our father is still right here in Mahatvak? That he’s been here all this time, but waited until now to make himself known?”
Second Daughter (The Royals of Dharia, Book Two) Page 11