PRIYA
“No,” Raziya said, voice like iron. “Empress, I cannot. My guardswomen will not.”
“You call me empress and still refuse me?” Malini shook her head. “Lady Raziya, I have good reason.”
“Why would you refuse our protection?” Raziya demanded. “The battle to take Harsinghar will be dangerous beyond compare, Empress. Why would you send us to the back of the battlefield to fight like cowards?”
“You saw what a bloodbath took place on the Veri,” said Malini.
“All the more reason to allow us to protect you!” Raziya made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “If you insist on going without the defense we can offer, at least keep Elder Priya by your side in battle.”
Internally, Priya agreed. But for now, she watched with interest, keeping her silence.
Malini shook her head.
“No,” she said. “I have a plan. It isn’t for you to understand it now.”
Raziya’s eyes sharpened with irritation. “Empress,” she began.
“Lady Raziya,” said Malini. “When this war ends, I want your women to train my personal guard. I want guardswomen of my own. And I want to learn how to use a bow with my own two hands.” Priya looked at her hands; those soft, uncallused, cruel hands. “I spoke to a priest in secrecy,” Malini went on. “And now I’m telling you, if you are at my side in this war, none of that will come to pass. If you have faith in the mothers, please, ask me no more.”
Raziya pursed her lips but finally relented.
The women left, and Priya remained. If anyone thought anything of it, they didn’t say so—though Lady Deepa’s gaze lingered on Priya, curious, before she turned her head and departed.
Malini’s eyes met her own.
“Tell me the truth,” Priya said simply.
“The priestshaveoffered me an alliance,” Malini said. “And Rao has returned to Saketa to advise my brother. I did not lie about that.”
“So they’ll give you their support,” Priya said. “All those priests of the mothers. Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“For nothing in return?” Priya pressed. She knew there was something else here that Malini hadn’t spoken of yet. Raziya had rightly sensed it. They all had.
“Oh, they want something,” Malini said. She went abruptly silent.
In Malini’s position Priya would have paced the floor. As it was, she could barely keep still. Her body was raw, bright with feeling. She could have run, or howled, or grown a tree to splinter the soil. But instead she clutched her own knees and kept her attention on Malini, who looked as brittle as glass, and just as sharp. The conversation with the priest had clearly shaken her.
Priya waited, and eventually Malini spoke again.
“They want me to burn—willingly,” Malini said.
Priya’s heart gave a thud.
“Malini.”
“I told them I would.” She raised a hand, silencing Priya before Priya could protest, could tell her what foolishness that was. “I lied, Priya,” she said. “I will never allow myself to burn. But all this—demanding I release the priest who wanted me dead, detouring to this temple, even meeting the so-called faceless son alone—all of it was a test of my willingness to bend to their orders, to do things unthinkingly and obediently. And I have done it. They have every reason to believe me, and every reason to give me their backing in return.” A twist to her mouth. “They think I’ll make a fine puppet. A good, pure, and righteous puppet.”
“But why?” Priya asked, bewildered and horrified. “What would your burning give them?”
Malini looked into her eyes.
“Faith is strange, and powerful,” she said. “Think of what was done to you for faith, by your own elders.”
“Passing through the waters did give me power,” Priya pointed out, even as the bitterness of that settled over her.
