“I’m sorry, Father.”
Heavy footsteps followed her words. Mahesh drew the curtain back and strode into the tent. He began to bow, then paused midmovement when he caught sight of Malini, who was quite clearly not weeping. Dry-eyed, seated neatly upon the floor cushions, she met his gaze and said, “Lord Mahesh.”
Her voice seemed to remind him of himself. He finished his bow, then straightened to his full height. “Empress,” he replied.
“I respected your guidance and did not leave the safety of my tent when I heard battle begin,” she remarked mildly, as Deepa entered the tent behind her father and silently drew the curtain shut. “Your daughter kindly kept me company.”
Mahesh did not turn to face his daughter, but his gaze did flicker to and fro, taking in the empty expanse of the tent. Deepa had spoken to him ofwomen, but only the three of them were present. Malini had made sure of that.
“Now that you have no need to calm me, Lord Mahesh,” she said, “do you wish to advise me on the state of our forces? How many men did the fire kill this time?”
“The dead and wounded are still being counted, Empress.”
She nodded, acknowledging his words.
“A great number, then,” she said. “As Lata warned when you insisted upon the siege. Perhaps you remember.”
He watched as Malini rose to her feet; as she mirrored him, standing tall and sure, with her shoulders back and her head high.
“Did we decimate the High Prince’s forces in return?” Malini asked, already knowing what answer she would receive.
He shook his head, the lines of tension at his forehead growing deeper.
“They retreated swiftly behind their walls,” he replied. “They used the layers of defense the fort possesses to their advantage. One strike at us, and they were gone.”
One strike. And so many of her men dead, for the sake of Mahesh’s beliefs, and Malini’s own designs. She would regret none of it. She could not allow herself such tenderness.
“I believed they could be contained,” he said. “The fortress was surrounded from all sides—watched by a constant arrangement of cavalry and archers. They should have withered within the walls.” He clenched his jaw, seeking control of his emotions or his words.
She watched patiently, waiting to see how he would splinter.
“The fort must possess hidden exits. The maze fort is known for its impenetrability. But it must be more—complex—than any of us knew. And the fire.” He stopped. Then said, with a roughness that was almost pleading, “I have fought many sieges, Empress. This was the right choice. We could not have known this would come to pass.”
“It was not the right choice, Lord Mahesh.” Her voice was sharp. “It was the wrong choice. And it was notourchoice. It was your own. You chose this path, despite my concern, despite my sage’s cautions. Every lord and prince of Parijatdvipa in my army heard you claim this path as your own, and they will know that the deaths of their men are your responsibility.”
Cruel words. But she had shaped them to be so.
“You acted to exert your own power,” she said deliberately. “To prove yourself wiser than me, and greater. You have been whittling at my power, Lord Mahesh. Did you think I failed to mark your slights against me?”
“Empress,” Mahesh said. “I have nothing but respect for you.”
“I knew you did not slight me from a lack of respect,” she said. “I know the unnatural fire from the fort shook your faith in me. I know you simply sought to pry me gently from my throne, and set Aditya in my place.” He said nothing. “You can admit it,” she said. “Or not, as you wish. I am already sure.”
He did not argue, or beg, or even fall into anger. He merely stood before her with the battle’s ash on him and continued to say nothing at all. She allowed the silence to stretch unimpeded. Then she nodded, accepting his wordlessness as the choice it was.
“I did not ask your daughter to summon you here simply so that I could berate you,” she said finally. “I asked you here out of courtesy. By this evening you will no longer be the general of my army. For the sake of your honorable service to me and to the empire, I have chosen to warn you of your coming disgrace, so you may prepare yourself. But I cannot save you from what may be said by others, and what may be guessed.” She gentled her voice. “I could have given you no warning. I could simply have humiliated you, stripping you of your titles before all your fellow lords. But I have chosen not to, for the sake of that bond that lies between us. You have led my men, and I do not discount that.”
“Empress.” Mahesh’s voice broke from him, sudden and jagged. “Youcannot.”
“I can,” Malini said calmly, even as something sweetly dark coiled in her chest. Power was a pleasure with many forms. To see a powerful man—a man who had betrayed her—brought low was one of its headiest. She did not let it touch her face or her voice. She was like ice. “I am Empress of Parijatdvipa.”
“As long as Prince Aditya lives,” Mahesh said swiftly, “there will be those who believe he must be the one on the throne. And now I have seen mothers’ fire—Empress. Princess Malini. They are not wrong to believe it.Iam not wrong to believe it.”
“Do you, who loves my brother, counsel me to murder him, then? To end his life?”
“No,” he said, recoiling. “I counsel you to trust what the mothers have told you through their fire and accept that a male scion of Divyanshi must take the throne.”
“You will see, tomorrow, that you should have kept your faith in me.” She let her tone grow gentler still. Pitying.
