“We’re not temple children anymore, thankfully,” Bhumika said. “Her name is Padma. That’s the name I’ve chosen for her. It will do. Now tell me what Ashok offered to you.”
Priya raised her head. “You knew?”
“I felt him too,” Bhumika said. “How could I not?”
There was no end to it. Even now, in this moment, there was no end to their duties. Their war, and their work.
Priya took a deep breath and began.
After Commander Jeevan had returned to guard Bhumika and the others—after he’d learned everything that had passed—Priya slipped away.
She moved silently, carefully, making her way through the woods to the Parijatdvipan camp.
Malini had a tent of her own—Jeevan had seen it erected, and sketched out its location to Priya with his words before she departed.
Priya waited until no one was looking, then slipped inside.
Malini watched her enter. She didn’t appear surprised.
“Priya,” she murmured. She crossed the tent and took Priya’s face in her hands. But she didn’t kiss her. Merely looked at her.
And Priya…
“What, by soil and sky, is this tent?” Priya said, looking around. “Is that gold on the ceiling? And why do you have a writing desk?”
“It’s actually modest by the standards of my youth,” said Malini, a smile curling her mouth. But her eyes were guarded when she said, “You shouldn’t have come here.”
“Those soldiers couldn’t have harmed me.”
“Nonetheless,” said Malini. “Why have you come?”
Priya looked at her and looked at her, struggling for the words.
“Malini,” she said, shaping the name carefully on her tongue, as if this way, she could keep it. “You’re where you need to be. My part of our bargain is done. And I’m… I’m here to say good-bye.”
She watched the smile on Malini’s face fade and die.
“I… In truth, I don’t think I should be here telling you this at all. This is—an act of trust,” Priya admitted.
“Leaving,” Malini said. “You’re leaving.”
“You knew I would have to eventually,” said Priya. “Bhumika and I—all of us—have to protect Ahiranya until your brother Aditya takes the throne. Until you’re able to see your vow to me fulfilled.”
“I know,” Malini said numbly. “I know. It’s just so—so swift.” Her forehead creased, just slightly. She touched her fingertips to her throat.
There was a tightness to Malini’s face as she very gracefully walked away and sat down at her writing desk, her back to Priya.
“Thank you,” Malini said, “for coming to speak to me. Knowing how I feel—it was kind of you.” She bowed her head a little, the nape of her neck bare as she drew her braid over her shoulder. “And thank you, too, for… everything. For the time we’ve had together. I won’t forget my promise to you.”
Priya swallowed. Her throat felt tight. Her eyes stung.
“We’re not done with one another, Malini,” she said. “This isn’t the end.”
“Of course it is, Priya. You said it yourself. We’re on different paths now. Isn’t that what an end is?”
To be nothing but a part of Malini’s history, and for her to be part of Priya’s in turn… no. That felt wrong, viscerally wrong. It couldn’t be that easy to erase what they felt for each other—the wonder and hope of it.
“Malini,” Priya said. “Malini. I…” She swallowed. “You’ll see me again. I know it. No matter where you go or what you do, I’ll find you eventually, because you’re taking a piece of my heart with you. You carved it out, after all.”
