Thank the spirits, there would be a holy day soon, and for a time she would be free.
“Of course you’re not leaving.”
“All servants have a day’s ease,” Priya said. “My lady,” she added, after a beat. It wouldn’t do to anger Pramilatoomuch. Not when she needed something from her.
“You stay here,” Pramila said slowly, as though Priya were stupid. “You serve an imperial scion now, girl. Don’t you understand? Your local customs don’t apply.”
Priya was fairly sure servants in other parts of Parijatdvipa also had days of rest, but what good would it do to say so, when Lady Pramila was looking at her as if she were an idiot, her mind clearly already set?
“I… I have other duties.”
“Not anymore. Your duties are here,” Pramila said. “Now bring me dinner and a cup of tea. There’s a girl.”
Priya bowed her head, murmuring an acknowledgment. She warmed some food, brewed a pan of tea laden with spices and bamboo cane, her hands trembling with banked fury.
She poured the tea. Prepared a plate. Returned to Pramila’s side and arranged the meal. Lowering her eyes demurely, she said, “If I may speak to my fellow maids, perhaps…”
“Yes, yes,” Pramila said, waving a hand in dismissal. She took a key from her belt. Tossed it to Priya. “Keep it, girl. I have another. Do whatever is needful. But do not allow the princess to wander, you understand?”
“I do, ma’am,” said Priya. “Thank you.”
There was a small triumph in that at least: She had permission to talk with the others, and also had evidence that Pramila no longer felt the need to watch her. Her false meekness had set her free—left her invisible and given her a way out of Malini’s cell.
Priya was beyond suspicion again. She could explore the Hirana once more.
She sought out Sima, grabbing her outside the eastern chamber. Sima whirled when she felt a hand on her arm. Then her eyes widened, and she flung her arms around Priya, drawing her into a bone-crushing hug.
“That’s a lot of emotion,” Priya said, lightly teasing. “I’d almost think you missed me.”
“Of course I’ve missed you. Do you know how boring it is without you? None of the other girls gossip about anything, they’re owl-headed idiots, the lot of them.” Sima sniffed. “But look at you. Your sari—”
“I was ordered to wear it.”
“Well, it’s rather nice. I wouldn’t say no to a new sari.” As neatly as she had mended the rip in the sleeve from her fall, it was still visible—a faint, puckering scar in the fabric. “Why haven’t you spoken to any of us? I looked for you. Gauri asked the jailer about you, but was told you were busy and to stop asking questions.”
“I have duties at night that keep me busy,” said Priya. “Not that I like it. I’ve missed you too. You have to tell me everything I’ve missed. Everything, okay?”
Sima laughed.
“Of course. Where should I start?”
“Tell me about Gauri first,” said Priya. “And Billu, if you like. And—”
And Rukh, she almost said. But then she paused. The words withered on her tongue, unspoken.
Of course. Rukh.
“And?” Sima asked.
Priya shook her head.
“Go on,” she told her. “Start with them. And you. I want to know what you’ve been doing without me, too.”
Thankfully, Sima began to talk without any further prompting. And Priya listened, and thought of the problem of Rukh. Rukh, and his rot, and his loyalties.
Rukh was loyal to the rebels. Rukh was a spy. Trapped here in the Hirana, with no day of ease, Priya couldn’t watch him. Couldn’t protect him from himself.
Priya knew it was her duty to tell Bhumika about him. Sheknew.
