Silence. Perhaps it lasted only seconds, or perhaps it lasted a great deal longer. Rao, in his current state, could not tell. But he felt it when a hand rapped smartly on the door from the inside, and when a firm voice spoke through the barrier of wood.
“Come in, Prince Rao,” Sima said.
He unbarred the door and stepped in.
She looked the same as she had the first time: tired and rumpled, and wary. But she wasn’t carrying a makeshift weapon this time, which was good. She looked him up and down, and her mouth tightened.
“You’re drunk, Prince Rao,” she said. “Your soldiers should return you to your chambers. You won’t get what you’re looking for here.”
“I am not here looking for anything,” he said stupidly, shuttingthe door behind him. He leaned back on it. Not dizzy but—weakened. “What do you think I’m looking for?”
She pursed her lips, then said, “Tell me what you need from me, my lord.”
Black exhaustion was blooming at the edges of his vision. He blinked it back. “I am going to Dwarali,” he said. “I am accompanying Lady Raziya to the sultan’s mahal, and then—I will go to the Lal Qila. And I will… stay there. For a time. Sima, I am here to ask—will you come with me?”
She gave him a blank look.
“Come with you,” she repeated.
“Yes.”
“If you say I must, then I will,” she said. “And if you decide to leave me here again in this room—well. Then what am I meant to do? Your men said it themselves. I’m a prisoner. I go where you decide. Why are you asking what I think?”
He could not faint here again. He wouldn’t blame Sima for killing him if he did. He’d been nothing but trouble to her—and to Lata. And to himself.
But he could do her this one kindness.
“Dwarali is far from Harsinghar,” he said quietly. “Far from Parijat, and the empress, and all imperial concerns. And some say… some say the Lal Qila is on the edge of the world. A woman who vanished there… I think, if she wanted to, she’d never be found.”
Sima stared at him silently, some terrible emotion rising on her tired face.
“Don’t try to trick me,” she said wretchedly. “If you’re trying to find out if I’m a traitor, if I—I’mAhiranyi, I can’t and won’t change that, so let your empress execute me, if that’s what she wants—”
“No,” Rao said forcefully, alarmed. “No, Sima, please, calm yourself—”
“Don’t tell me to be calm.” She was shaking, her voice rising in pitch—but she was trying desperately not to shout, and thatturned her voice into something wavering and strangled. “You can grieve and drink and go anywhere and do as you wish but I—I’m not allowed to grieve all I’ve lost! And I have to stay in thisfuckingroom until I die! I—” She stoppered her own voice, shoving one palm against her mouth. Squeezing her eyes shut.
He swallowed, forced himself to stand straight, and took a laborious step toward her.
“Sima,” he said. No answer. “Sima, I am sorry. I…” Another step. “There are people even now, in Parijat, who care for you. I have been a bad ally to you. And nothing like a friend. But I am… I am one of those people who wish you well. Who trust you. I am not trying to trick or trap you. I am offering you a way forward. What you do with it… that, I leave to you.”
Sima was breathing shallowly. Then she rubbed her hand over her eyes, freeing her own mouth. Gasped a deep breath. Another.
“Who else?” she said.
“What?”
“Who else cares for me? Wishes me well?”
“One of Prince Ashutosh’s men came to talk to me,” Rao said. “On your behalf. Romesh.”
“Oh,” she said. “Good.”
“And Sahar, the empress’s new guard,” he added.
She nodded, once. Looked at him with teary eyes.
“I will come to Dwarali with you.” There was determination in her voice. Somehow, in that paroxysm of feeling, she’d made a choice. Then, as if the words were being wrenched out of her, she whispered: “If I stay in here any longer, I won’t survive.”
