City of a Thousand Dolls

by Miriam Forster

The Shadow Mistress raised an eyebrow at him. “We have a history that you do not remember, Highness. But for now it is enough to say that I am a teacher in these Houses. And that I am sworn to serve the Emperor and his family in all things.” She pulled up her sleeve, revealing a flower tattoo inked darkly into her skin. A black lotus.

  Fear whispered through the crowd, and the nobles standing closest to the Shadow Mistress edged away.

  An angry flush stained Tanaya’s cheeks. “You’re nothing but a hired killer, a base assassin. How dare you accuse me?”

  “Assassin I have been,” the Shadow Mistress said in her cold, soft voice. ”And assassin I will stay. To kill a stranger for the good of the Empire is a dark act. But to murder two innocents just because being a princess isn’t enough … that is the action of a spoiled child. And spoiled children in positions of power are dangerous.”

  “A worthy distinction,” Prince Sudev noted. “And if what you say is true, then it would seem my future wife has taken it upon herself to eliminate my mistresses.”

  He turned his unsmiling eyes on Tanaya. “Did you kill those girls?”

  Tanaya still stood tall, but she was beginning to shake. “It wasn’t like that. Atiy was an accident. And the other one … I was trying to protect my future, our future. They said you would be mine,” she said. “They promised.”

  “Did they?” The prince leaned forward. His voice had gone very quiet and sent prickles down Nisha’s spine. “That was poor judgment on their part, since I belong to no one. Did you think to lay exclusive claim on a prince? How stupid of you.”

  Tanaya hunched her shoulders, shriveling under his matter-of-fact cruelty. She began to cry.

  The prince went on, “I am heir to the Lotus Throne and the future ruler of the Bhinian Empire. I can’t have a wife who’s been publicly accused of murder.”

  The words fell onto the room like ax blows. The devastation on Tanaya’s face turned to fury.

  “You did this,” she hissed, turning to Nisha. Her hands bent into claws. “You sneaky, manipulative bitch! I should have drowned you like a kitten when I had the chance.” With a feral cry, Tanaya sprang toward Nisha’s throat.

  The crowd gasped like spectators at a play, and the bodyguards reached for their weapons.

  They weren’t faster than the Shadow Mistress.

  One moment Tanaya was leaping at Nisha; the next, the Shadow Mistress had her in a chokehold, one arm twisted up behind her back.

  “Only an amateur loses her temper,” the Shadow Mistress said. She flung Tanaya to the floor and wiped her hands on her tunic with a clear expression of contempt.

  Tanaya lifted her head, eyes burning with desperation. “Please,” she begged the prince, crawling toward the base of the throne. “I have worked my whole life for you. Don’t throw me away now.”

  “A true Flower noble never begs. And while elimination of rivals is not unheard of, a true noble never, ever gets caught,” Prince Sudev said quietly. He snapped his fingers and raised his voice to say, “Take her away.”

  “No! I won’t let you do this. I won’t!” Tanaya scrambled to her feet and reached up to the ruby hair ornament that crowned her heavy gold waves.

  Nisha stiffened. She remembered Rajni and Josei speaking over Lashar’s blood-soaked body.

  That’s her hair ornament.

  It’s a dagger. You arm your girls?

  Time turned slow and murky. Nisha watched Tanaya draw the slender blade from her hair. She felt her own dagger slide out of her sleeve, felt the heaviness of the hilt as it hit her palm. The world narrowed to just Nisha and Tanaya, the way it had when Tanaya had thrown her daggers at Nisha in fun.

  Tanaya lifted her arm to throw. She was fast.

  But for once Nisha was faster. Her own dagger flew in a blur of liquid sliver. The honed edge of the knife sliced deep into Tanaya’s arm, sending her throw wide. Tanaya’s hair ornament clattered across the marble floor, and the room filled with the sharp, metallic smell of Tanaya’s blood.

  By the time Tanaya’s hand dropped to her side, she was surrounded by the guards and a blade was pressed to her own throat.

  No one moved. No one breathed.

  With a theatrical sigh, Prince Sudev stood and stepped off the dais. Tanaya’s elaborate hairstyle had come loose and fell around her face in heavy tangles. Her face was tight with fury, her clothes rumpled. Red blood streamed freely from her cut arm and dripped onto the floor, almost matching the color of her asar. And still she was beautiful.

  The prince walked to Tanaya and ran a finger down her cheek. “Such a pity. You would have made an excellent wife for me.”

  Tanaya opened her mouth to speak, but the prince laid a finger on her lips, silencing her.

  “Shhh. You have no idea how close you are to death right now. I could have you executed where you stand.” Tanaya shrank back, and the prince smiled.

  “But my father prefers to be consulted on such matters, so your punishment will have to wait until I get back to Kamal.” He gestured to the guards. “Tie her well before you tend her wound. She is more dangerous than you can possibly know.” He gave Tanaya a mocking smile. “Though I find that to be true of women in general.”

  A nervous titter rippled through the crowd. Nisha closed her eyes, not wanting to see Tanaya—the girl who had defended her, the girl who had been her friend—dragged away. When she opened them again, Tanaya was gone.

  34

  THE PRINCE FOLDED his arms. “Can anyone tell me why I shouldn’t have this whole place torn down for endangering my royal person?”

  No one answered. Akash tar’Vey looked sick, and Matron frightened beyond words.

  Sudev raised his head, his eyes resting on Nisha. “Ah, my brave rescuer,” he said, holding out his hand palm down. “Come here.”

  It wasn’t an invitation, it was a command, and Nisha knew it. Tac stepped forward.

  The prince’s tone never changed. “I would prefer you faced me on your own feet.”

  Swallowing, Nisha held on to Tac and slowly slid her feet down to the floor. Balancing on her good foot, she leaned against him.

  “Tell me,” the prince said, pointing at Nisha’s cast, “is that temporary or permanent?”

  “Temporary,” Nisha said, holding her head up. “If the Ancestors are willing. But only time will tell for sure.”

  Prince Sudev wrinkled his nose. “With such a disability, you are to be commended for your reflexes. You defended me most excellently and saw the dagger before even my trained guards did.” He glanced at the black-clothed soldiers behind him, and they shifted uncomfortably. The prince went on.

  “A man should know the name of those who save his life. What are you called?”

  “I am Nisha Arvi.” Nisha pressed her palms together and bowed as low as she could without falling over. Tac kept a steadying hand on her shoulder.

  “Arvi?” The prince’s eyes narrowed. “Aren’t the Arvi a Kildi clan?”

  The crowd murmured. Nisha felt the back of her neck get hot, and she couldn’t stop herself from touching the gray silk that covered her tiger mark. “Yes. My father was a Kildi. Emil Arvi, Master Trader of his clan.”

  The murmurs turned to uncomfortable whispers. From the corner of her eye, Nisha saw Devan’s eyes widen. Akash appeared equally taken aback. Matron looked resigned.

  The prince did not seem surprised or shocked. His eyes swept up and down Nisha, finally coming to rest on the red scarf over her hair. His voice was lightly mocking. “So, Nisha of the Arvi clan, I owe you a life-debt.”

  “What? No!” Nisha looked around frantically. Life-debts were for warriors and nobles. She didn’t think royalty could even owe a life-debt.

  “But I do,” Prince Sudev corrected her. “No one is exempt from a life-debt. But I dislike owing anyone anything, especially not to a daughter of the Kildi. Name your price.”

  Nisha gaped at him. “What?”

  Prince Sudev spoke slowly. “I wish to repay my life-debt to you. Name what you
wish, and if I can give it, I will.”

  Nisha grabbed at her chance. “If it please you, Highness, I wish to save my friend. She was falsely accused of Tanaya’s crimes and imprisoned. I want her released, and I want the City to find a healer in Kamal for her to study under. It will be as if she had never been never suspected.”

  “Reasonable,” the prince said. “It will be done. It can be the last thing this City does. I intend to speak with my father about shutting down this estate.”

  “You can’t!” Nisha said more loudly than she’d intended. “Please don’t,” she amended. “The City of a Thousand Dolls isn’t perfect. But if you just shut it down, there will be no place for people to bring their unwanted girls.”

  “What the people do with their extra brats is hardly my problem,” Prince Sudev said quietly. “My father may have an attachment to this City, but I do not. And if I don’t respond to this”—he gestured to the puddle of Tanaya’s blood on the floor—“this insult, I will lose face. I hope you’re not suggesting I lose face, daughter of the Arvi?”

  “Of course not, Highness,” Nisha said, her brain working furiously. “But I may have a less dramatic solution for you. What if you punished only one person: the one who allowed Tanaya to continue to kill, who silenced witnesses and knowingly hid information from you?”

  “And who would that be?”

  Nisha looked over to where Akash tar’Vey was trying to inch his way out of the crowd. “The new Head of the City Council, of course,” she said, pointing. “That man. Akash tar’Vey.”

  Akash froze and looked at Nisha, his expression a mix of hate and fear.

  Nisha didn’t waver. “I think he would make an excellent … scapegoat.”

  A smile touched the prince’s mouth. “You are more ruthless than I would have given you credit for. And you amuse me.”

  He nodded, and guards started closing in on Akash from each side.

  “No!” Akash tried to run, but the fascinated crowd pressed too close, and he could only stare like a trapped deer. “Mercy, Highness. Mercy!”

  Prince Sudev rolled his eyes. “I hate it when they beg. Take him away,” he called to the guards.

  Nisha shivered. The prince gave her another mocking smile. “Not so ruthless, then? If it comforts you, his punishment will be lighter than what he deserves. My father will not allow me to anger a family as powerful as the tar’Veys. Now, who should be this unworthy man’s successor?”

  That question at least was easy to answer.

  “Someone who puts the welfare of the girls here above all personal considerations,” Nisha said. “The Matron of the Houses.”

  “Done.” The prince shrugged. “Now I have saved your friend and your precious City. Is my debt repaid?”

  Nisha thought of Zann and a wave of reckless courage swept through her. She had risked her life and freedom, and she was still alive. She could risk a little more. The words tumbled out of her mouth. “I want your personal promise that no girl will be spoken for against her will.”

  An angry mumble arose from the crowd of assembled nobles, and the prince waved a hand to silence it.

  “An interesting suggestion,” he said, his mouth twisting upward. “But how will this place stay profitable if girls can turn down potential redeemers?”

  “What if the girls could repay the City for its estimated losses?” Nisha said, the idea crystallizing even as she spoke it. “If a girl refuses her Spoken, she will be set up in a trade somewhere in the Empire. Girls here are trained in all sorts of skills. Every novice here is an expert, and each could earn her own money if she were allowed. The girl will pay a percentage of her wages to the City every year until it equals the amount that the Spoken would have paid for her. And if she finds a husband before the debt is paid, the Council can set the remaining amount as a bride-price.”

  The angry murmurs softened into approval.

  “It will be done.” Prince Sudev’s look turned from amused to thoughtful. He eyed Nisha, appraising her again. “Are we even now? Or is there something you want for yourself, Nisha Arvi? I can hardly believe that you are concerned only with the welfare of others. I would offer you a position in the palace. Perhaps not in the court, but we could find you a position in the royal archives....”

  Nisha had saved her friend and helped the girls who would continue to fill the City of a Thousand Dolls. She’d kept her promise to herself. But the thought of spending her days in a tiny room filled with dusty books made her sick. She didn’t want to work in the archives, and she didn’t want to work in the palace. She wanted to be free.

  “Your Highness, Akash tar’Vey sold me to his cousin, Kalia.”

  “Did he now?” Prince Sudev said. “That is more like the Akash I know.” He sighed. “Well, we can’t have nobles acting like slave merchants—not publicly, anyway.” He gestured to another set of guards. “Find Kalia tar’Vey and hold her. I don’t care how much the tar’Veys yell. They have a lot to answer for after today.”

  Nisha held Tac’s arm tightly, dizzy with relief. It was over.

  She was free.

  But Sudev wasn’t done yet. In a few steps, he was close to Nisha, close enough for her to see the white lotus flower that marked the base of his neck.

  “My offer is still open,” he said.

  Nisha stared into his dark eyes. “I told you. I just want my freedom.”

  The prince turned away abruptly, and the first hint of real anger edged his voice.

  “It is all very well to speak of being free, but as you have seen, freedom means nothing without the protection of caste. And you have no caste mark. I would strongly suggest that you accept my help, daughter of the Arvi. Unless, of course, someone here wants to speak for you.”

  Nisha looked around, her gaze finding Devan. The young nobleman was staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. Devan looked out the door where they had taken his uncle, then back at her. His mouth opened—

  And Nisha shook her head at him.

  No.

  Even if Devan still wanted to speak for her, it couldn’t be as his wife. And she couldn’t be his mistress, either. That cage might be kinder and more comfortable than the one that the prince was offering, but it was still a cage. Atiy might have been happy in that life—probably would have been, if she’d had the chance—but Nisha wasn’t Atiy. Or Tanaya or Jina or any of these other girls.

  She was just Nisha. And she needed to be free.

  Thank you, she thought at him fiercely, sending him the words she knew she’d never get to say. She hoped that even though he couldn’t read her thoughts as her cats could, he might see the message in her face. Thank you. For everything.

  Good-bye.

  Devan held her eyes for a long moment, their shared history flowing between them like a muddy river. Then he turned and pushed his way through the crowd, toward the door.

  Prince Sudev’s eyes traveled over the gathered crowd. “No one? No one will speak for Nisha Arvi, limping orphan girl?”

  The crowd tittered, and Nisha felt herself turn red with shame. The prince turned back to her.

  WE SPEAK FOR HER.

  A collective voice resounded in Nisha’s mind with a power and authority she had never imagined. She saw the mouths of those around her drop open as they heard it and a river of spotted cats flowed into the throne room. Cats spread out along the edges of the crowd as Esmer trotted to the middle of the room, her tail high, catlike confidence radiating from every step.

  Nisha stared at them. So did the prince.

  “Cats?” someone sputtered from the crowd. “Cats don’t talk!”

  And as Nisha watched, her cat-friend, her cat-mother, disappeared. In her place stood an elegant gray-haired woman wearing a simple brown tunic. Her voice was soft and thin in the open air as she spoke.

  “Not generally, no,” Esmer said. “But we are not cats. We are a tribe of cat-Sune that has made our home here for these last ten years in order to fulfill a sacred trust laid on us by the gi
rl’s parents. Now we step forward and speak for Nisha Arvi. We will claim her and adopt her as one of our own.”

  The older woman nodded to Josei’s assistant, who was still standing next to Nisha. “It’s all right now, Jerrit,” she said. “You can talk again.”

  Nisha swayed, her head swimming. “Jerrit?”

  The crowd fell apart.

  35

  NISHA COULDN’T STOP staring at the young man holding her up. Her eyes traveled over his broad hands and strong arms, the arms that had carried her all day. She studied the way he stood, the fall of his hair. His human eyes were more brown than gold, but the wide grin was pure Jerrit.

  Forgive me, he sent. The touch of his mind on hers was so familiar and comforting that Nisha almost burst into tears. It was the only way I knew to protect you.

  Jerrit glanced at the older woman. “Esmer didn’t think that my walking around in human form was a good idea,” he said out loud. “But I told her I was doing it whether she approved or not, so she finally agreed.”

  “I’m just so glad you’re here,” Nisha whispered. “I thought I wouldn’t get a chance to say good-bye.”

  “Well, you won’t have to say good-bye anytime soon,” Jerrit said. “Watch.”

  Nisha couldn’t speak. A fierce, impossible hope had her by the throat. She took his hand and squeezed it.

  Esmer stood in front of the prince, her arms folded. “Will you accept?”

  The prince scowled like a small child deprived of his toy. “I have to think about it,” he said. “No Sune has ever purchased a girl from the City before.”

  A wicked grin spread across Esmer’s face. “Would it help if I told you that the girl’s mother was also a Sune, and a legend among our kind?”

  Time seemed to stop for Nisha. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, but everything else around her, the astonished nobles, the surprised prince, faded away.

  A Sune.

  My mother was a Sune.

  It didn’t seem possible.

  She wasn’t a spotted cat, Jerrit sent, answering the question that hovered on Nisha’s lips. Your mother was one of the tiger-Sune. I don’t know the story very well, but I believe she gave up her cat form when she met your father. Or maybe before that. It’s a little confusing.