“At last, we’ve found common ground,” I said sweetly. “I feel the same about you.”
He stood up, bracing his legs in what I assumed he thought was a fighting stance. But his balance was off center and his legs were not bent far enough to withstand an impact. His posture was nothing but posture. “Disarm me.”
“I do not prey on the weak.”
“That’s not what I hear.”
Wrong thing to say.I feinted left. He fell for it. Naturally. He was not much of a fighter or strategist. In seconds, he was on his back.
“That does not count,” he wheezed. “I was disarmed by your beauty.”
“You were disarmed by a swift kick.”
“That too.”
He moved to stand, and I placed my foot on his chest. “I will not perform for you or anyone. Never ask me to do something like that again.”
He stared at me. “Are you done?”
“Yes.”
“May I get up?”
“No.”
“I see you like your men with their egos gutted.”
“Only when I’m feeling generous.”
He laughed. “My apologies.”
“We leave by nightfall,” I said. “And I want my weapons and clothes back.”
He tucked his hands behind his head like a pillow before glancing at the ceiling.
“Fine. Now can you kindly remove your foot from my chest?”
5
A GOLDEN APPLE
GAURI
The Fox kept only half his word. When I got back to my prison cell, my clothes had been discreetly tucked beneath a loose wooden tile. I still didn’t have my knives, not that I blamed the Prince. It was, perhaps, the first intelligent thing he’d done. Now all I had to do was wait until nightfall when he would—allegedly—spring me from this prison and we would escape.
For the first time in months, I let my mind wander toward the hope of returning to Bharata. When I returned, there would be no question of who the throne belonged to. My brother would either sink to his knees or fall to them in pieces. Nalini would be free.
Almost six months had passed since Arjun’s betrayal. One more cycle of the moon and it would mark the anniversary of Nalini’s arrival in Bharata and my Age Day. I still remembered the harem preparing for her arrival. Nalini was the daughter of an important tribe leader on the outskirts of Bharata, and her upbringing at court was a promise of peace. She would be raised as a princess of Bharata and married into the nobility. In exchange, her kinsmen would keep the borders safe.
Nalini arrived the day I turned thirteen years old. Immediately upon arriving, she tried to set fire to the harem and escape. Her name was on everyone’s lips, which meant that everyone forgot about me. I disliked her instantly.
The week after, I tried to get my revenge. Skanda was holding a celebration along the waterfront. The women walked in pairs, shielded by an ivory screen that broke our view of the world outside the harem. Nalini defiantly walked by the water’s edge, her chin held high and gaze fixed ahead. I stuck my foot out when she walked past. She stumbled, lost her balance and fell with a loud splash into the water. It was meant to be a prank. But when she didn’t come up for air, I panicked. And so, amid all the shouting of Bharata’s citizens and the thin screams of the harem wives—and in full view of Skanda—I leapt in after her and pulled her back to the surface.
“I thought you could swim,” I gasped, coughing up water.
Nalini hissed a stream of curses, but no one heard over the villagers’ loud proclamations:
“The Princess Gauri is a hero!”
