“Tariq,” he replied. “Can’t say I’m glad to see you alive.”
“Can’t say I’m glad to see you in my shop,” her father replied.
Aniri stepped toward them, still in shock at being ignored, but having no desire to see her father and Janak come to blows before accomplishing their purpose. Which she steeled herself to remember amid the swirl of emotions threatening to shut down her mind.
“Father.” She meant it to be strong, but it came out a whisper.
He quickly turned to her. His hands rose like he would embrace her, then fell as he seemed to change his mind. “Aniri, I’m concerned for you, too.”
Somehow his words set her teeth even more on edge.
“I would never have guessed…” He stalled out again. “I mean, I didn’t expect to see you in Samir. When Devesh told me he had spied you in the city, I could scarcely believe him.”
She had to force words past the closing of her throat. “Don’t worry. I won’t be staying long.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He looked pained. “I just hadn’t let myself hope. When I saw you last, you were just a small child—”
She couldn’t stand it anymore: she couldn’t keep inside the question that was burning her heart. “Why?” she demanded, taking a step closer to him. Her father leaned back, his eyes growing wide, but not quite retreating from her. “Why did you leave us?”
“Aniri, I didn’t leave you, I… but, yes, of course, you would see it that way.”
There is no other way to see it. But she kept those words trapped inside, waiting to hear him out. She would give him this chance, this one chance, to explain himself. She would find out what he knew about the attempt on Seledri’s life. And then she would leave Samir and never look back.
A frown settled on his face, but somehow the serious look only made him more handsome. Refined and studious-looking. Aniri could easily picture her driven and capable mother falling in love with him. Janak’s words came back to her: Your mother wouldn’t see him for what he really was.
Aniri was determined not to make the same mistake. She returned her father’s stare, daring him to explain himself.
He drew in a breath, shifting to face both her and Seledri. Her sister’s tormented look only bristled Aniri’s anger more. Perhaps this was a mistake after all.
“I don’t expect you to understand.” Her father nodded, but it seemed to be for himself. “But I do owe you an explanation.”
You owe much more than that. The words pushed against her throat, but she refused to let them out.
He took another breath, deeper this time. “As you may remember, I traveled a great deal, especially to Samir. Dharia was my birthplace, but the beautiful mountains of Samir have always called to me.” He shrugged, a hand lifted to the walls of his shop and all the climbing equipment that crowded them. “The more time I spent here, the more I came to understand its people as well. And one in particular.” He stopped, frowning again. He held Seledri’s tormented gaze for a moment, but when he glanced at Aniri, he dropped his gaze to study the small mountain of climbing shoes next to them. Without looking at either of them, he said, “I fell in love with a Samirian woman. I didn’t intend for it to happen, but it did. Your mother was busy with the crown and her court, and she would scarce have noticed.”
Something painful dug into Aniri’s palms. She looked down to find her fists tight as rocks, and her fingernails biting into her flesh.
“I was trapped.” Her father was looking at her now.
Aniri locked her jaw and her body tight to keep from lashing out at him.
“There is no royal divorce. I certainly couldn’t leave and marry a Samirian woman. It would be, quite literally, treason.” A bitter smile turned his handsome face into something worse. Something painful for Aniri to look at, but he still held her gaze, and she couldn’t look away. “And your mother is far too clever to not have found out eventually. Keeping it hidden from royal onlookers, not to mention raksaka, well, that was a dangerous thing unto itself. ” He glanced at Janak, and the coiled fury on his face sent a flush of warmth through Aniri. “There was a reason I traveled alone as much as possible. But in the end, it didn’t matter.”
He stopped. Aniri waited for more, but her father’s lips were pressed tight, as if he was debating whether to tell the rest of his sordid story. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the details, and she was certain she wanted no knowledge of the woman who had stolen her father’s heart. But how dare he say it didn’t matter?
Seledri spoke it for her. “What do you mean, it didn’t matter?” Aniri’s flash of regret became a certainty—it was a mistake to bring her sister here, subjecting her to this trauma amidst running for her life, the baby, and her husband possibly arranging her murder.
This painful reunion needed to end, sooner rather than later.
But it was Janak who spoke to her father next. “You were found out anyway.”
Her father grimaced, but nodded. “Yes. And by the Samirian royal family no less. I suppose I should have seen that coming, given she was a member of the court. But it still surprised me when the King himself approached me. And offered a way out.”
Janak’s eyes narrowed to slits. “One you couldn’t refuse.”
“I had no desire to embarrass the Queen,” he said darkly to Janak, then turned to Seledri. “I had no desire to hurt any of you. But the choice was either to be exposed or to leave your mother. If I left of my own accord, the king personally assured I would not be found. He secured a village hideaway for a short time, then promised I could return to the city.”
“Return to the city?” Aniri said, incredulous. The entire contents of her stomach felt like they might come up. “You mean return to your lover.”
Her father’s face twisted, as if Aniri was blaming him for something that wasn’t of his own doing. “It was either flee,” he said, bitterly, “or the king would have personally taken the news of the affair to your mother. That would have embarrassed the Queen, weakened her rule, and endangered relations between the countries. Not to mention, I would be living in a Samirian prison now. Or a Dharian one. If I was living at all.”
His words and that look—as if he had no choice in the matter, as if it weren’t something of his own doing—it chilled her heart, dousing the volcano of anger that had been building inside her. Somehow, her father did not think he was responsible for any of it.
Then a clear thought broke through: maybe she had made mistakes. Maybe, in Devesh, she had chosen the wrong person to love. But when it endangered her family, she never turned her back on them. She never betrayed or abandoned them. She knew, always, where the fault lay for the consequences of her acts, and she did everything in her power to amend them.
It seemed that following her heart wasn’t always wrong.
Her father could have returned home to her mother. He could have apologized and begged forgiveness. Her mother would have taken him back, of that Aniri had no doubt. Even eight years later, after he abandoned her with no reason given, the Queen still held out hope. But instead, he chose the coward’s way out and abandoned his family for his lover. Her mother may not have seen him for what he was, but Aniri certainly did: and he wasn’t worthy of the Queen.
Aniri’s fists uncurled. This man wasn’t worthy of any of them.
“We should go,” she said quietly to Seledri. “There’s nothing for us here.”
Seledri had small tears running down her face. She didn’t object.
“Wait!” Devesh said, startling Aniri. She had forgotten he was there. And truly, she had no patience for his lies anymore, but his hands were out, holding her back from marching out of her father’s shop. “I brought you here because you need to know the dangers to Seledri.”
Aniri cursed herself inwardly. In all the turmoil, she had forgotten their purpose as well. She glared at her father. “What do you know of the assassination attempt?”
His defensive looks melted away, replaced by concern. “I kn
ow they are part of larger plans, ones that present grave dangers to not just Seledri, but all of Dharia.” He turned a soft look to her sister. “I begged Pavan to tell you. Honestly, I was surprised to see you brought here by Devesh, rather than your husband. I thought sure he would have found the moment to tell you by now.”
Seledri’s eyes went wide. “Pavan knew you were here in the city? All this time?” She looked like every piece of her life was falling apart before her eyes. Aniri hurried to her side and took hold of her sister’s hand.
“No, no.” Her father held up his hands. “He only recently found out. Of course, the King has known all along. And I suspect the Second Son knows as well. But the King is not of a mind to share state secrets with the First Son.”
Seledri nodded through her horror, as if this made sense to her. “The King is always working to bring his son, the Second Son, into favor with the Queen. If he held a valuable secret like this, he would not share it with Pavan.”
“And the runaway husband of the Queen of Dharia, hidden in a climbing shop, is definitely a valuable secret. Exposing me wasn’t just a threat long ago, Seledri, it’s an ongoing one.” His voice turned bitter. “One I’m afraid he’s waiting to use at the moment most opportune for Samir. Which may be soon. That’s why I approached Pavan and revealed myself. He didn’t know until then.”
Seledri seemed to have lost all her breath. “So you don’t think Pavan is involved in the attempt on my life?” she whispered.
“Pavan? No, of course not,” their father said. “Once the baby was known, I revealed myself to him. Ever since, he’s been coming here to visit. He keeps saying how he’s searching for the right time to tell you.”
Seledri covered her mouth with her hand, and Aniri could see her fighting to hold back tears. “It was you he was coming to see,” she said in a whisper. “All those unexplained times away from the palace…”
Aniri squeezed Seledri’s hand. Her husband, the father of her child, wasn’t having an affair after all. And if he was searching for a way to reunite Seledri with her father, it seemed unlikely he was trying to kill her as well. Amidst all the other horrors of the day, this must have seemed like a lifeboat.
Their father searched Aniri’s face. “He knows how you feel, my child. I think he hopes to win your heart by bringing your long lost father back into your life. I told him I didn’t think it would have the effect he hoped for.”
But Aniri could see the effect plain on Seledri’s face.
Aniri turned to their father. “If not Pavan, then who?”
“Most likely the Second Son,” he said. “And now there are plans afoot that endanger both of you. Aniri, I would never have hoped for you to come to Samir, but now that you’re here, it’s better you stay. Dharia will soon be no place for a Dharian royal.”
Aniri’s heart cried out she would be returning to Jungali, and to a man far more noble than her father. She would be Jungali royalty, and proud of it. She was surprised how settled her heart was in that thought: there was a rightness to it that hadn’t been there before.
But she wouldn’t share the contents of her heart with a man who had abandoned his family and now inexplicably wanted her to do the same. Instead, she said, “What do you mean? No one is trying to assassinate me. And Seledri is far safer in Dharia, away from the Second Son’s influence.”
Her father pressed his lips together and glanced at Devesh. Aniri frowned. What secret were they contemplating keeping from her? But Devesh nodded, encouraging her father to speak it, and she quickly wondered why Devesh was orchestrating all of this: seeking her out at the inn, bringing them here, facilitating the reunion. And now, this last secret, whatever it was. Was it possible he actually cared for her? Or at least, had come to regret all his lies and deceit and intrigue, just as he said?
Her father drew in a breath. “The plot against your sister is just the beginning, Aniri. The Samirians’ plan to wage war on Dharia. And soon they will have the skyship armada to accomplish it.”
“An armada? As in more than one skyship. How many?” The horror of it mixed with a kind of disbelief in Aniri’s mind. How was it even possible? It had taken many months and incredible secrecy, not to mention a supply of navia from the frozen mountains of Jungali, to construct one skyship. How could the Samirians already have a fleet of them?
And if they did… her head seemed to suddenly become light, floating above her shoulders. There would be no hope of fighting them. No possibility of even fending them off. They wouldn’t have to have a burning glass to render her home into rubble. With an armada of skyships commanding the sky, the Samirians could do anything they wished.
“I don’t know,” her father said, bringing her out of a hazy image of burned villages and scattered armies. “I only know what Devesh has told me.”
Aniri swung to look at him, but his face was open with the promise to tell her everything he knew. She frowned, still puzzling over why, but her father kept speaking.
“However, I know the Second Son is involved. He, and by proxy his father the King, surely hope to gain the crown once the war with Dharia has begun.” He took Seledri’s hand. “A Dharian wife of the First Son is not going to be Queen if we are at war, Seledri. I think they would have been content to let you live, had you not presented them with the threat of an heir half-Dharian, half-Samirian. It’s possible to oust a First Son if that’s all he were, but once he had provided an heir to the crown, especially if it was a Daughter, it would have been more difficult for Natesh to claim the crown.” He glanced at the aetheroceiver in her hand, and turned to Aniri. “You must message your skyship. Tell them to return to Dharia now, before the fleet is mobilized and ready to attack. Make what preparations they can. But you and Seledri should remain here in Samir. If you return to Dharia, you will only be executed, along with all royalty in the land, once the invasion is complete. But if you stay here, I can secret you away. I’ve made friends, even beyond the royal household.” He nodded to Devesh. “Friends who know many secrets spots where a royal in exile might hope to live out their lives to their natural end.”
Aniri shook off the horror of a Samirian armada and gave her father a look of disgust. “I will not hide while my country is destroyed.” By country, she wasn’t sure if she meant Jungali or Dharia. Either way, there was no doubt in her mind where her place was, even if it was to end in an execution.
Her father winced, but dared to take her by the shoulders and look her in the eyes, as if he could convince her that way. “Please, Aniri. Think of what you’re saying.” He held a hand out to Seledri. “Your sister is with child. You are young. Between you, there are three lives with many years ahead of them. Someday, perhaps, you could return—a royal family in exile, three Queens who could return when the time is right to restore the Dharian monarchy. But if you go to Dharia now, it will end in nothing but bloodshed.”
Aniri twisted out of his hold. “If my family is danger, you’ll not find me running in the opposite direction.” She nodded to Seledri. “Secreting my sister and her child, the future Queen, away is prudent… in Dharia. Where we will have far more friends than enemies.” She wasn’t sure where she counted her father in that tally, but the way his face fell made clear where he thought he lay.
“I understand why you wouldn’t find much to admire in me.” He said it with a sadness that threatened to pull at her heart, but she hardened it against that luxury. His mouth opened to say more, but then it gaped at something over her shoulder, out the windows of the shop. “Quickly!” He pushed Aniri to the side and rushed past her to the front door. They all pivoted to see what drew him. Outside, three figures were crossing the street.
Royal Samirian guards.
“Out the back,” her father said, his hands fumbling with a key on a long cord around his neck. “Janak! Take them!”
In a blur, Janak and Seledri were gone, her raksaka rushing her sister toward the back door where her father had first emerged. Devesh tugged at Aniri’s arm, but she stood fr
ozen, watching as the guards arrived at the door at the precise time her father shoved in the key. A mechanical lock whirred, but the sound was quickly drowned out by the pounding on the door.
“Run, Aniri!” her father barked at her.
Devesh’s tug became a forceful yank that unlocked her legs. She turned and ran with him toward the back. Devesh stopped long enough to shut the door to the main shop behind them, grabbing a key from a hook on the wall and hastening to lock it.
A crash sounded from the shop. It sounded of broken glass. Shouts and voices and a shuffling of feet. Devesh dragged her from the door.
“But, we can’t—”
“Your father has bought us precious moments.” Devesh’s voice was harsh as he shoved her past piles of boxes and equipment to another door standing open. Janak and Seledri were there. Aniri ran toward them. Just as she reached the alley a gunshot rung from inside.
Her heart seized, but this time she didn’t stop.
My father has been shot.
Aniri didn’t know this for sure, but her heart felt it: an icy fear that shoved out any other possibility, even though her head knew it might not be true. Aniri, Devesh, Janak, and Seledri ran hard the length of the alley behind her father’s shop and down two others as well, before slowing to a normal pace. Once they broke out into the busy streets at the center of the city, they couldn’t run as if they were fugitives. Aniri’s legs itched with the need to go faster, the danger of the palace guards still haunting their backs. It seemed as though they scarcely moved through the thickly crowded streets, in spite of her boots pounding a steady rhythm on the cobbled walk.
Janak carried the aetheroceiver and kept his hand on Seledri’s arm, but Aniri still worried. “Are you all right?” she asked her sister.
Seledri’s breathing was a bit labored, but her voice was strong. “I’m fine.”
“The baby?”
“We can both move faster, if called to again.”
Aniri looked to Devesh up ahead, but he just shook his head and kept them at the same steady pace. Aniri stayed by Seledri’s side. Janak swept his gaze ahead and behind, with an occasional glare for Devesh, who likewise scanned the streets, keeping a high alert while trying not to appear on the run.
Second Daughter (The Royals of Dharia, Book Two) Page 13