But women always had to leave their ancestral home at some point in their lives—when they married into their husband’s family, for example. This just came a little late for her since she was supposed to have gone to Rajgarh after her wedding, had her husband not decided to abandon her here.
She tried to convince herself with various reasons that this might be an adventure, but a hollow feeling still filled her heart.
The temple bell pealed across the wooded hills, the familiar sound vibrating inside her. It felt like an omen today.
“When do you wish me to start?” she asked finally, accepting her fate.
“There is something else, too, Princess.”
Chandra leveled a questioning look at him. “The kingdom that stands to lose the most with Meru’s explosion, haven’t you realized it yet?” he asked.
Brows pleated, Chandra thought it through. Meru was a mountain in the Vindhyas, and she strove never to think of the Vindhyas because ofhim. “Rajgarh is in the foothills of Vindhyas,” she said slowly, the implications dawning on her as her eyes filled with panic.
He gave a solemn nod. “That’s right, Princess. The kingdom that’s going to be most affected by Meru’s explosion is Rajgarh. Your husband is here in Amaravathi already and has requested a meeting tomorrow with the triumvirate. We had to convince him to meet us in Devarakonda, instead of the capital, because of your presence here. And that’s why I hastened to meet you. So I could warn you ahead of time.”
Guruji’s eyes peered up at her from beneath his bushy white eyebrows and she finally understood the emotion behind the strange look he had given her earlier—it was a mixture of pity and apology, overlaid by duress. It almost felt like her consent to this quest was somehow vital to him. “I’m sorry, Chandrasena, but you’ll have to find a way to work with him.”
Chapter 7: The Stranger Who Was Not
The midday sun beat on the small, circular hollow carved into the hill with the intensity of a hammer. Chandra desperately wished for a breeze to cool her down. However, the surrounding trees remained still and watchful.
A flash caught her eye, and she spied the tip of an arrowhead poke past the foliage. They had set up hidden archers in the trees that surrounded the hollow, as an added insurance to the multiple guards stationed at the many entrances this place boasted.
The reason for the amped-up security was the dozen or so strangers dressed all in black. It seemed like an overkill, but no one forgot the brutal war that raged seven years ago or how savage these group of strangers could be. They sat on stone benches, arranged in a semicircle across the clearing. Despite the heat, their dark clothes, and the presence of many guards, they appeared unruffled.
The other half of the circle was occupied by the ruling triumvirate of Amaravathi. Guruji, her stepmother Queen Rathi Devi, and the general of Amaravathi sat on similar stonebenches. Chandra sat beside Guruji, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
A lotus key piece, shaped like a petal, lay in front of them in an open, velvet-lined box. Queen Rathi Devi had commissioned it to be taken out of the royal treasury. Chandra studied it curiously—it was golden hued and shone dully in the midday sun.
She listened with half an ear while Shota, one of the people from Rajgarh, laid out their reason for this visit, recounting the tale of how King Amarendra used the lotus key to help stop the explosion of Meru. A tale well known around these parts.
Most of her attention was onhim. The most dangerous person she ever had the misfortune to meet, sitting nonchalantly on the stone seat like it was a throne, only a few feet from her.
Like her, his dark eyes assessed everyone, and she had no doubt he knew of both the obvious and hidden guards they had stationed in the hollow. His fingers tapped on the stone impatiently while Shota went through the motions of royal protocol, segueing into asking for help.
The only difference betweenhisattire and the rest of the people in his group were the subtle silver embroidery on his shoulders, which proclaimed his royal status, and a prominent red ring on his forefinger.
The red ring reminded her of their encounter a few nights ago when he was in disguise and pretended to be a fugitive from Thianvelli. He had flitted into her mind several times since then, but it wasn’t until her conversation with Guruji yesterday that she was able to guess at his identity. She still recalled the shock that had coursed through her at the realization. Despite suspecting it and mentally preparing herself for it, his presence still hit her with all the subtlety of a battering ram.
He still sported a heavy beard like the other day, when in the past he was generally clean-shaven. The beard covered thedistinctive scar he had on his jaw, that coupled with his disguise fooled her thoroughly.
Seven years had caused changes, of course. He had put on more muscle, and had become harder, like nothing could touch him. But how could she have forgotten his raptor eyes? Or the keen intelligence behind them.
Or thought for a moment that a seemingly simple man fleeing from the guards of Thianvelli would be the prince of a great kingdom.
She was distracted by other things and had wool for brains. That was the only explanation she could give for the way she had failed to recognize him.
The tapping stopped, and his fingers clenched into a fist. Chandra glanced up to realize he was looking at her. Dark eyes narrowed with suspicion and even at this distance, his hate seared into her.
His clothes may not be ornate, but power shrouded him. Black hair formed luxuriant curls at his nape and a mustache with curled ends detracted from the sensuousness of his lower lip. His face had a sharp, predatory quality to it, not unlike that of a bird of prey, with its sharp beak of a nose and watchful eyes.
The slow smile he gave her had an edge of cruelty to it and told her more effectively than words, that he knew she knew. He knew who had saved him that day on the bridge and had intended to take him to Amaravathi’s prison.
Why hadn’t she listened to her instincts before? she thought in dismay. She would have striven to hide herself better. Now it was too late. If the prince let her secret out, that she was roaming with soldiers at night, she was doomed.
For once, she was grateful for the heavy hair ornaments she was ordered to wear for the meeting today. They partially obscured her face, which meant she could nurse her emotions in private.
“What is Rajgarh willing to offer in exchange for Amaravathi’s assistance?” asked Rathi Devi, her dulcet tones at odds with her sharklike personality. Her question cut into the heart of the exchange, causing Shota to falter to a stop.
