“Perhaps you’re right,” she said, and let herself sag a little, shoulders rounding as if exhaustion had overcome her. “I will rest, Lord Mahesh. And then—later—we will discuss what must be done.”
Her own tent, like everywhere else in the camp, smelled of burning. But the scent was fainter here. Swati had swept the floor and perfumed the air. She had arranged bowls of water to trap the smoke.
They were all waiting for her: Deepa and Lata, and to Malini’s surprise and relief, Raziya. Her head was wrapped with cloth, her hair bound to one side. Sahar, still bloodied and ash-stained, stood at the entrance of the tent, acting as another guard. Lata strode over the very second Malini entered the tent. “My lady,” she said, gaze flickering anxiously over Malini’s face, her clothes. “Are you hurt? What happened out there? Why did you go to Lord Mahesh without me? Shall I summon Rao? He’s seeing to his men, but I can ask—”
“No.” Malini shook her head. “Everyone I need is here.”
“I’ve arranged you bathing water,” Swati said softly. “Refresh yourself, my lady. You’ll feel much better.”
“Are you well, Lady Raziya?” Malini asked. “You should be resting.”
There was a pointed hum of agreement from the tent entrance.
“You should have waited for me,” Raziya said. Her hands were clenched in her lap. It took a moment for Malini to realize that the flinty look upon her face was anger. “I was indisposed,” she said stiffly. “But, Empress, you should have waited for me. Or if not for me, then Lata or Lady Deepa.”
“My father would not have allowed me there,” Deepa blurted out. Then flushed. A look passed between Lata and Malini. Nothing was said.
Malini moved behind a privacy screen and unraveled her sari. Let it fall into a heap behind her, knowing she would never willingly wear it again. After a perfunctory wash with a cloth and bucket, her hands shaking despite herself, she dressed again in clean clothing.
She unbraided her hair as she walked back into the main tent. Ran a comb through it in long, thoughtless motions, waiting for her heartbeat to settle. Swati made a soft noise. “Let me, my lady,” she said, and took up the task, swiftly drawing Malini’s hair into a new braid.
Another of Raziya’s archers entered the tent. “There’s a war council being held,” she said, voice urgent. “Right now.”
“The empress will be ready in a moment,” said Raziya. “Tell the men—”
“No, my lady,” the guardswoman said. “You don’t understand. The council has started. And they are not… they havechosennot to summon the empress.” She swallowed, and said weakly, “It was one of our lord’s men who told me, my lady, on Lord Khalil’s behalf.”
Silence.
Raziya said, “We may attend regardless, of course, Empress.” Her voice was cold, all the fury in it suppressed. “We will ensure you have an appropriate retinue with you. All of us will be at your side.” Deepa squirmed a little at that, but Raziya continued calmly, “Nothing will be amiss.”
They all looked at Malini. Waiting for her response.
“No,” she said. She would not go to them unprepared. She would not go with shaking hands and fire flickering behind her eyelids. That wasn’t how wars were won. “How do you celebrate battles being won, in Dwarali?”
“With drinking,” Raziya said.
“And battles not yet won?”
“Battleslost, Empress?” A raised eyebrow. “I do not know. We don’t lose battles in Dwarali. And if we do, we don’t survive.”
“It is lucky, then, that Parijatdvipa is a vast empire full of many paths—and that we women know something of rising anew from the flames of ruin,” Malini said. “Swati,” she said. “Arrange for wine to be brought. We are all going to remain here, in this tent, and celebrate our continued survival.”
“And sherbet,” Sahar muttered. “Wine’s no good for those with bleeding heads.”
Raziya gave her a narrow-eyed look. Malini said, swiftly—with a pang of annoyance at herself, for her own oversight—that sherbet would be ideal.
Wine and sherbet were poured. Malini told them what had happened outside the High Prince’s fort, and watched as Lata’s face grew tighter, and her eyes more calculating, as she considered the implications of what had passed. She observed the way Deepa shrank further in on herself, like a small prey creature seeking to conceal itself from danger.
“Deepa,” Malini said, finally. Deepa startled visibly, then settled back onto her cushion. “If you wish to see your father, you may go. He must be worried for your well-being.”
“I—I don’t need to see him, Empress. My apologies.”
“Will he not want to see you? Ensure your health?” Malini enquired.
Deepa shook her head. “No, Empress.”
“Then I must, in his place.Areyou well?” Malini asked. “It was frightening for Raziya and me to face fire on the battlefield; but it is frightening, too, not to know what may be coming for you.”
