It took a long moment for Rao to understand what he meant.The good one.“Sima?”
Romesh nodded curtly.
“Me and the other men—we want to know how she is.”
“She’s caused no trouble.” She really hadn’t. All through the war, she’d been firm and determined. She’d waded into deep, corpse-infested water to save Priya. But ever since—ever sinceeverything—she’d been gray and silent. When he’d arranged hersafe chambers and promised her safety, she’d only nodded and murmured her thanks, and turned her face to the wall.
And Rao had… simply let her.
“She’s proved herself trustworthy,” Romesh muttered. “She was good in the war. She fought hard. My lord, if you’ll let me speak plain—she’s not responsible for the actions of the other one.” A pause, and then he said, almost reluctantly, “I liked them both. But the other one… she made her choices.”
Everyone knew what Priya had done. A thorn knife. A dead priest. Stone cracked through with flowers, and Malini clutching her own bloodied chest, weeping as the blood spilled through her own fingers.
“Sima is safe,” Rao said. “Safe and well treated. I’ve vowed to protect her. That won’t change. You can tell your men I’ve made a promise I won’t break.”
In his own chambers, he forced himself to drink some water. He could only take a few mouthfuls.
His tongue was dry and his mouth tasted foul. His eyes had started to burn. He rubbed them, the prickling heat only growing stronger.
He couldn’t rest tonight. Not after Aditya’s funeral. Not after an empty pyre had burned. Not when all he could remember was Aditya looking at him, tears bright and shining in his eyes.
What is a star?
Aditya, fire climbing over his skin. Aditya, in Rao’s hands and then not.
Distant fire—
He was walking before he consciously chose to do so. He was steadier now. Steady enough, at least, to walk in a moderately straight line. Corridors, and flickering lights, and the faces of bowing maids—and then—
“Let me in,” he said, and the soldiers protecting Sima’s chambers stepped aside and opened the doors, and let him pass.
Sima jumped to her feet when he entered. She’d been sittingon the floor cushions, but she straightened swiftly, brandishing something in her hands. There was a mirror behind her, great and silver, and in it he could see his own reflection—a wavering, insubstantial figure—and the tense lines of her back, ready for violence.
She met his eyes. Dropped whatever she’d been holding.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I came here so—late. I should have known—not. Not to do so. Was that a knife?”
She wasn’t supposed to have weapons. Even after Lata had asked him to look after her, he’d had to negotiate with Malini’s other advisors forcustodyof her.The Ahiranyi prisoner cannot have weapons. The Ahiranyi prisoner cannot leave her chambers. If the Ahiranyi prisoner seeks to break the rules of her imprisonment, then the price must be death.
“No,” she said, after a beat. Her voice was rough. “Just a clay bowl.”
Rao looked down. The clay was a shard. Jagged enough to cut.
“Just a bowl,” he agreed slowly.
Sima kept looking at him. She didn’t ask him why he was here, but he could read the question in her face.
“I’m sorry,” he said abruptly, “that I haven’t made your imprisonment more bearable. And I am sorry…” He trailed off, unable to find words.
“It’s not your fault,” she said thinly. “Priya made her decision. And I made mine.”
He still couldn’t quite believe she’d chosen this: to part from Priya. To ally herself with Parijatdvipa, even if it meant imprisonment and suspicion. If it hadn’t been for Lata, it could have meant Sima’s death. And he’d seen Sima and Priya together. They’d fought for each other. Nearly died for each other. How could they have wrenched apart so swiftly, so completely?
He rubbed his aching, stinging eyes. “I’ll do better,” he promised. “There are people here in Harsinghar who care about you, Sima. You’re not surrounded by enemies. Or—not only enemies. And if… if you want the company of friends… Or if…”
He was swaying. When had that begun?
“Rao!” Sima was shouting. He watched her mouth move, distantly aware, as his knees buckled.
