Veer was silent for a full minute. His eyes were shadowed but he finally spoke. “I don’t like this, Princess. But I’ll agree to listen with an open mind,” he said slowly.
“So you agree?” she asked, hardly able to believe she had gotten even this much. She hadn’t dared risk hoping too much and open herself to crushing disappointment. But the germ of this idea began after that disastrous meeting with the triumvirate where he had thrown a knife at her. In a way, she had her mother and her stubbornness to thank, for it meant he had come to her, to ask for her help.
He gave a short, assenting nod.
“Thank you. That’s all I ask,” she said, her heart lighter for the first time since she heard he would be coming to Amaravathi. Her happiness made her break into a genuine smile.
Veer watched her with a weird expression, like he couldn’t decide whether to be pleased or disgruntled.
“Whoever this person is, he should be thankful he has such a devoted person like you in his corner,” he said. Then his lip curled. “You should know this beforehand. I won’t forgive this person if he’s your lover.”
Outrage warred with her recent happiness. Her mood shifted from thankfulness to disgust in a moment. “Unlike you, Prince Veer, I took my marriage vows seriously,” she snapped.
* * *
Veer regretted his words. Insulting a woman like that was akin to saying a man had no honor.
He didn’t know how he felt about this bargain. He was relieved, of course, that he had extracted a promise of help, but he was also uneasy that she seemed to have gotten what she wanted and still managed to hold on to her secrets. Her easy acquiescence now made more sense. She had expected, maybe even planned, this from the start. Curiosity reared its head, overlaid by an unwilling admiration. For all her schemes and machinations, Chandrasena was far better at manipulation than Queen Rathi Devi. Something he would do well to remember when dealing with her.
But before he could form an apology for his ill-thought words, he stiffened, noticing the presence of a dangerous intruder.
A low growl filled the clearing. Veer whirled toward the source, unsheathing his sword as he went.
A tiger stood a few feet away. Bright gold eyes fixed on him in hungry expectation as inch-long canines from strong jaws dripped with saliva. In the dusky evening, its coat of black-striped, yellow fur gave the illusion of flames.
He should’ve paid attention when making the trek into the garden. The princess had warned him that they were still in the woods edging the forest.
One giant paw stepped soundlessly toward them. Veer thrust the princess behind his back, his focus entirely on the beast. There were only a couple of reasons for a man-eater to venture this far into civilization. Hunger and fear for survival being the most pressing, which meant the animal would be rabid in its attack.
Veer tested his sword’s reach and found that the tight quarters and the surrounding foliage limited his swing. If he didn’t want to kill the animal, there was only one way.
A gust of wind came from nowhere, rattling the leaves of the nearbypeepultree as Veer uncloaked his power.
He broke through the mental shield that guarded every living being’s mind.
A brief period of dissonance descended, the result of having to cope with dual senses as his mind merged with that of the tiger. He corrected it with a quickness borne of long practice.
The tiger growled as it felt his presence in his consciousness and Veer in turn, felt its murderous instincts and the underlying terror.
To fight against his invasion was instinctual for any being. Veer usually tried to lessen the pain of it by employing a slow, subtle entry, but this time he had no choice but to use brute force to ram into the beast’s mind.
The tiger took a step back and bowed its head, its growl now pain filled. Unfortunately, the more the animal fought, the more it suffered.
But once he was inside the animal’s mind, his hold was absolute. Until he wished it, the tiger had no power to break the connection.
Its moan of distress rumbled in the air.
“Stop.” Chandra ducked under his protective arm and rushed toward the beast. “He is harmless,” she said, kneeling beside the tiger.
Veer was so stunned to read the truth of that statement in the tiger’s mind that he tamped down his control. That tiger was dangerous—but only to him. Its feelings toward the princess were more like gratitude and trust.
Or closest equivalents to them; it was difficult to put human labels on animal emotions.
“Is he your pet?” he asked, bemused, lowering his sword cautiously.
The princess had been running her hands over the tiger’s fur, but she glanced up at his question. Her eyes widened. “Your eyes!”
Veer swore as he realized his eyes must still be reflecting the golden irises of the tiger. His wizardry was not something he liked to bandy about, knowing people’s prejudice around these parts. He was aware of the rumors regarding his abilities. He took pains on his last visit to keep it a secret and hoped the princess didn’t put too much stock in them.
