She stuffed the note into her blouse, finished her cooking, and took the food to Pramila’s chamber with a fixed smile on her face.
When she finally returned to Malini’s room, she found Malini on the floor of her cell, her cheek pressed to the stone and her eyes wide. Priya ran over to her.
“What happened? Are you well?”
“Clearly I am not well,” Malini gasped out. “I just—fainted.”
“How…?”
“My vision went black,” Malini said. “And I felt sick. And now I’m on the floor. That’s all I know. Please, help me up.”
Priya did, taking Malini’s weight as she rose to a seated position. She could feel the clamminess of the princess’s skin.
“The dizziness will pass,” Malini said firmly. She looked angry. “It’s going to pass. This is a natural impact of giving up needle-flower, is it not?”
“I don’t know,” said Priya helplessly.
“You said you knew about the effects of the poison.”
“I do. But I’m no healer.”
“Well, then.” Malini’s jaw tightened. She raised her head higher, as if fighting some invisible force pinning her skull down. Carefully, she rose to her feet, then lowered herself to the charpoy.
Priya watched her.
“It’s the lingering effect of the needle-flower,” Malini added, eventually. As if to assure them both. “That’s all. I’ll be better in time. Are you ready, Priya? Is Pramila dealt with?”
“She’s sleeping. I checked. If the guards come…”
“They won’t come to my room,” said Malini. “They know better.”
“But if they do?”
“I’ll pretend to sleep,” said Malini. “And if they wake me, I’ll tell them I don’t know where you are.”
“Then I’m ready,” said Priya.
“You remember—”
“I remember everything you told me,” Priya said impatiently. “We have a deal, Malini. Don’t worry about anything.”
The palace of illusions, Malini had told her, was the place she needed to go. Priya knew of it. It was a pleasure house in a rather elegant—if not terribly reputable—part of the pink lantern district. Its name was both a joke and a mockery: It had been named for the palace in an old myth found all across the subcontinent, the palace of a beautiful queen who had many husbands.
She knew she was to meet the young lord who was staying there, a distant cousin of a low prince of Saketa—although that was not, according to Malini, his true lineage. She was to give him a message from Malini, ask Malini’s questions, and then return. All before Pramila woke.
She would need luck on her side.
Priya threw a shawl around her shoulders.
“Priya.” The expression in Malini’s dark eyes was unreadable.
“Yes?”
Nothing. For a long moment.
“I hope you come back safely,” Malini said finally. “I hope you’re well. I’ll be thinking of you.”
Why did Malini keep insisting that she really cared? It made Priya feel raw. She wanted Malini to care for her—wanted to bask into that caring,meltinto it. But the rest of her was wary. The rest of her wanted armor.
