“Then stop touching me,” Sima said, wrenching her hand back. He didn’t let go.
And before Priya could do anything, Sima was lifting her left hand and punching him square in the nose.
There was a crunch, and blood, and the man holding Sima yelled and raised his whip.
“Stop,” Priya shouted. The ground rumbled beneath her. She didn’t care if they felt it. Let them. “Is this how you treat advisors from other lands, soldier?” She shouldered her way through the circle of men. “What would your commander say about this?”
The soldier dropped Sima’s hand. She darted away from him, moving to stand at Priya’s side.
Priya took a deliberate step forward.
The man was resisting the urge to step back. She could see it in the stiffness of his shoulders; the sudden twitch of his feet. But he stayed where he was.
“You want a match with a sword whip, then I’ll happily face you,” Priya said. “I can show you how I’ve treated Emperor Chandra’s men, if you like. I’d be delighted to give you a practical demonstration.” Her fingers twitched at her sides. If her damnable magic failed her, she would gladly take one of those sword whips and garrote the man with it. She knew she could do it.
“No one is using any kind of whip against anyone else,” Sima said. “Elder,” she added, nudging her arm against Priya’s. “There’s no more need to defend me. I’m sure this soldier has seen sense.”
“Lower your weapon, idiot,” one of the other men muttered.
And the soldier did. Good.
Then he spat in Priya’s face.
“Fuck,” Sima said feelingly.
Once, Priya would have taken that casual violence without a word; would have lowered her eyes and gritted her own teeth and tucked the hurt and rage away to be unseen, to rot and gather dust inside herself. She would have done nothing. She would have wished, only wished, that she could show him what she truly was.
She didn’t have to wish anymore.
The soil surged open like a wave. Something made of roots deeply buried—something sharpened to a blade by Priya’s fury—surged up. The man screamed and danced back, dropping his whip. Yells filled the air.
Priya very calmly closed the earth back up. She turned, meeting Sima’s gaze, as one of the Saketan soldiers grabbed her by the arm. Sima’s eyes were wide, her face pale. Behind her, Deepa had emerged from the tent, mouth open in shock.
Don’t worry, Priya wanted to say.What can these men possibly do to me?But she couldn’t. She was being dragged away, and Sima was left alone, watching her go.
MALINI
The camp had been growing more restless by the day as the siege stretched on, so it was no surprise to Malini when one of her guards announced that Low Prince Ashutosh wished to speak with her urgently. She had expected some kind of conflict to break out sooner rather than later. She resisted the urge to sigh.
“I will hold audience later,” Malini told the guard, as one of the military officials arrayed around her hurriedly gathered up the maps he’d been presenting to her. The war council tent was full of administrators, the rustle of paper, the oily musk of ink. “Tell him I will have ample time for him then.”
“He has company, my lady,” the guard told her. “The Ahiranyi—the woman—he has her.”
“Hasher?” Malini repeated, and the man nodded, knuckling some sweat from his brow.
Hearing the impatient noise of voices beyond the tent’s walls, the clang of armor, Malini decided not to ask for further details.
“Let him in, then,” she said.
Prince Ashutosh strode in. Bowed. Behind him, four of his liegemen entered, with Priya between them, cuffed at the wrists. She didn’t look afraid, but she did not look entirely at ease either. She bowed along with the liegemen, and when they straightened she met Malini’s eyes for one brief moment before looking away.
“Prince Ashutosh,” Malini said, deciding to forgo any pleasantries. “Please explain why you’re bringing my invited ally to me in chains.”
Ashutosh’s face was grim. “This Ahiranyi,” he said, “attacked three of my liegemen. I demand that she be punished.”
“I see,” said Malini. She paused for a moment. “Nonetheless, low prince, I see no need for her to be bound.”
“There is plenty of reason, Empress,” Ashutosh said, a sullen set to his mouth, anger in his eyes.
