I want to die, he thought, with a terrible black panic.Some part of me wants to die.
“My heart is dead,” he said, his voice hoarse. Sima flinched. He didn’t stop. “Everyone I truly love is gone. I don’t want your pity and I don’t deserve it, but I can’t listen to my own heart. There’s nothing there. I…”
He bowed forward and Sima caught him: hands on his upper arms, her scowl melting into concern. But her voice was unyielding.
“Don’t inflict the same fate on me, then,” she said. “Don’t make me lose everything I love.”
“How can I stop it? We’re hurtling toward disaster, Sima. Out of my control.” He met her eyes. “What can I do?”
“You can do me one kindness,” she said. And then she told him.
PRIYA
No more cell on her own, and no more heart’s shell at her wrists. Ever since that strange, precious moment in a garden with Malini, they had not spoken of bargains or negotiation. Instead, Malini had carved her a little freedom. Priya had a room now, and Sahar to guard her.
Sahar had taken the orders with obvious unhappiness.
“Don’t you find it odd that you’ve been told you have to watch me?” Priya had asked her. “Do you think you’re being punished?”
“I trust whatever the empress wills,” Sahar had said. “And I am still her head guard. I just have—additional priorities.” Her nose had wrinkled.
Priya had refrained from saying anything to that.
Now Sahar entered Priya’s bare, light-filled room at speed, face stormy. Priya was already standing, pacing.
“Something is happening,” Priya said. She’d heard noise from the corridors, and clamor from the mahal’s gardens and the city beyond its walls, echoing in through the window. “You can tell me. What’s going on?”
“I’m not a courier,” Sahar said, slamming the door shut. “It isn’t my job to carry messages.”
Priya leaned back against the wall and waited for Sahar to continue. She’d come here for a reason. Priya wasn’t much for patience, but she could give Sahar a little today.
“Come with me,” Sahar ordered finally.
“Does the empress want me?”
“No,” Sahar said shortly. “Come.”
Sahar didn’t wait any longer. She grasped Priya’s wrist and ushered her to the door. They went out in the corridor and walked swiftly along halls lined with guards.
“You killed a friend of mine,” Sahar said abruptly, not looking at her. “I used to like you once. But now…” Sahar exhaled and shook her head. “Just don’t give me a reason to hurt you. The empress wouldn’t forgive me.”
They were walking toward the prison cells. Priya considered resisting, but Sahar was so furious that Priya was half sure she would try to gut Priya, given the opportunity.
Sahar gave a sharp nod to the guards at the prison doors, and they moved to the side, inclining their heads. The door opened, and Sahar dragged Priya in.
Inside stood Prince Rao.
“I’m doing this as a favor to you and to Sima,” Sahar replied, voice low. Her grip on Priya’s arm was iron, and then suddenly—it wasn’t. “Be quick. I won’t give you long. Don’t let Elder Priya in with her.”
“Thank you,” Prince Rao said. “Of course.”
He turned his gaze to Priya, growing cooler, less friendly. He inclined his head.
“Elder Priya,” he said. “I was asked to do a kindness. Please. I will take you to her, but first I must explain why she is—changed. And how she came to be here.”
“Who is she?” Priya asked, a little exasperated.
“Bhumika,” he said. “Your fellow elder.”
