“What’s that other word you like?” asked Aasha.
“I like a lot of words.”
“True, but the word you use whenever you talk about someone for whom the desires in your mind turn to slow torture or a wish for their mouth to fall off their faces?”
“‘Fool’?”
“Yes!” said Aasha brightly. “That is also you.”
“You are the worst friend.”
“That is not what your mind is saying.”
“Stop reading it!”
Aasha rolled her eyes, and the blue star on her throat disappeared.
“Happy?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I do not need the Blessing to see that you are lying.”
I was going to argue when the throne room doors were thrown back. I glanced at the sun, still high in the sky. Today, the Ujijain delegates wished to meet with me personally, but I hadn’t been expecting their visit so soon.
Aasha pulled a silk head scarf over her face and around her neck just as the bright blue star glinted back into being. A group of Ujijain delegates entered the room, walking single-file and dressed in their finest crimson insignia. Aasha touched my shoulder: a sign that they came with no harm for me in their thoughts. But then her fingers tightened and her brows scrunched in alarm. Not a threat to my life. Something else. My thoughts flew to Vikram. Had something happened to him that the delegates knew and hadn’t revealed immediately?
“Your Majesty,” they said, bowing.
I walked back to my throne and sank into the seat.
“Welcome.”
“Your Highness, Emperor Vikramaditya is pleased that your kingdom has been so gracious and amenable as we seek an alliance between our two realms. We wish to strengthen that bond.”
My heart raced. I knew what a strengthened alliance between two kingdoms could be: a proposal of marriage.
“He hopes that you might be amenable to a discussion in four days’ time when his official coronation takes place.”
“Four days?” I repeated, frowning. He hadn’t given me much time to travel. It took three days to travel to Ujijain. Unless he hadn’t wanted to invite me. Or worse, unless he had forgotten until the last moment. I didn’t know which pummeled my heart more.
The diplomat nodded. “He would be honored by your presence. Or by a delegation. Whichever Your Majesty sees fit to send. As our nations work together, we also hope that you will be in attendance for the Emperor’s future wedding.”
Now my heart froze. “Wedding? To whom?”
“His Majesty has yet to choose a bride.”
“But there have been invitations for marriage discussions sent out to prospective brides?” I asked. I should have forced myself to keep quiet and not reveal so much obvious interest, but I couldn’t help it.
“Yes,” said the diplomat.
I let this information sit. Vikram was choosing a bride.
I was not on that list.
My first instinct was to refuse the invitation. That urge to latch up my heart flared inside me like an old wound. But I couldn’t be scared. When I didn’t talk to Nalini, I nearly wrecked our friendship. When I didn’t listen to the Serpent King, I nearly destroyed his love.
I was scared to let go—scared to cough up that last bit of control and bare myself—but I was more terrified of what I’d lose if I never spoke up.
