Chapter 1
The incense smoke undulated up toward the temple’s carved ceiling, disappearing long before it reached its destination. It was like watching the dissolution of our prayers before they had a chance to reach the Spirits. Why raise our hopes on smoke? Wouldn’t it be better to let them loose on the wind or let them ride a ray of sunshine? I wasn’t sure I could trust any Spirit that spent its time lurking inside an enclosed room?—even one filled with ornate paintings and sculpted columns?—instead of reveling in the glory of the world outside.
I kept my hands folded together as I peeked at my older sister. Her lips moved as she prayed silently over her smoking sandalwood incense, probably asking for peace and prosperity for our people; Ektha never prayed for herself.
Finally, my sister bowed her head one last time and stood. I looked up at her quizzically, silently pretending to ask how she could possibly be done so soon. She hid her bemusement. Ektha knew I never prayed for longer than her. But as a child, I had discovered that the best way to avoid a scolding was to ignore the payal digging into my ankles as we knelt on the hard floor and to stay still until my sister was done. Even now that I was almost twenty years old, the habit still served me well. And Ektha never made me wait for long.
We walked between the rows of massive fluted columns and made our way toward the sunshine and the people waiting to come in. The temple had been cleared for our visit and was silent except for the tinkling of our payal. I stayed half a step behind my sister, as always. The shafts of light that shone through the small carved openings in the walls flitted across Ektha’s face, but I stayed in her shadow.
“Abbakka.” Ektha’s voice was a murmur, a gentle wave coming to the shore that had the strength of an ocean behind it. “You changed your incense. No more coconut?”
“Yes, I switched to orange,” I replied.
She raised her eyebrows and waited for me to answer her unspoken question.
I gave her a small shrug. “I spoke with our uncle just before he left to visit Banghervari. He reminded me of my duties.”
“Heremindedyou of yourduties?” Ektha’s voice crept up with every word as she stopped and turned to me. She kept one hand on her hip and gestured with the other as she spoke, making her gold bangles jangle with every point she made. “What more can he possibly want? When you’re not reviewing reports with us or meeting his advisers, you’re out practicing with your bow or sword or whatever weapon your instructors decide to throw at you. Chaaya tells me she has to chase you down to make sure you eat!”
“Chaaya worries too much.”
I tried to keep walking, but Ektha blocked my way. She crossed her arms and said nothing. She didn’t need to widen her round hazel eyes or flash her dimpled smile, which had beguiled so many into trusting her?—even when they shouldn’t. Ektha was a master diplomat, but she needed none of those skills now, only patience. She knew I wouldn’t be able to stand the silence.
I sighed. “He just said my job is to always make your life easier. When you are rani of Ullal, you will guide us to greatness, no doubt. I am here to make sure that your will is carried out. With our trade ships going missing, possibly even attacked by our neighbors, I’m burning orange incense to ask the Spirits for the strength to fight and the courage to do it with honor.”
“Abbakka, I will always count on you.” Ektha squeezed my arm. “But you should not worry so much. Even if another nation has interfered with our trade, we will find a way to handle it without fighting. Nobody wants a war.”
“I’m not rushing onto any battlefield,” I said. “I hope we can find peace over a few cups of tea and some shared sweets just as much as you do. But I want to be prepared.”
Ektha frowned as she continued forward. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps I was overreacting, but I doubted it. Let everyone else pray for peace or calm or whatever else they craved. I wanted my wits about me and the nerve to do what was needed. Even with everyone preaching at me about trusting the Spirits for my whole life, I’d always had more faith in my blade. Ektha could worry about diplomacy. She was the silk; I was the steel.
We stepped outside, and sunlight flooded me, filling me with more hope than any incense-laden room ever could.
Ektha misunderstood my smile. She looked beyond the staircase and out at the courtyard’s lifelike sculptures and carefully organized garden beds. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it? Surely the Spirits can appreciate such a work of love.”
I nodded noncommittally and scanned the courtyard for the guards who had escorted us here. Just as I caught sight of the group wearing the peacock blue tunics, white pants, and gold sashes of the royal guard, I saw another man in uniform hurry through the entrance. My heart flipped as I recognized him. “Why is Thevan here?”
“Thevan?” Ektha searched the crowd and then cocked her head up to me after she spotted him speaking to the other guards. “Your eyes found him quickly.”
For the first time today, I prayed. I begged the Spirits to make sure I didn’t blush. But I didn’t dare meet Ektha’s eyes. I kept my gaze locked on the tall soldier pushing his way through the crowd.
“It’s hard to miss that uniform,” I said. “The gold accents catch the sunlight. He’s sparkling as much as you.”
“Hmm.” Ektha unconsciously placed a hand on the amethyst-studded gold chain hanging around her neck. “We’ll speak of this later,” she whispered as Thevan approached us.
Six guards formed a protective semicircle at the base of the stairs while Thevan ascended the steps two at a time. He spared me only a brief look, but it was enough for me to know there was trouble. His jaw was locked so tight that the muscles in his cheeks popped out, and there was a deep furrow between his brows. Every part of him was tightly coiled and ready to spring into action.
He arrived in front of Ektha and bowed briefly with folded hands, but he did not allow my sister any time for the customary formalities. “Forgive me, Rajkumaris, but your uncle and the rest of his party have returned from Banghervari...”
Ektha smiled, no doubt happy about seeing her husband, Nikith, who had accompanied our uncle. Her expression dimmed when Thevan’s voice trailed off as he held out his hand. On his open palm lay a single white jasmine blossom. He spoke quietly as he continued. “He has requested that you return to the fort. Immediately.”
Ektha and I stared at his palm. This was the gift that Nikith always gave her when he returned from any trip: the most fragrant flower he could find on his journey. Nikith always took great joy in presenting it to Ektha when they were reunited?—he wouldn’t have sent it with Thevan unless the message was urgent.
Ektha’s eyes darted toward the people in the courtyard. They milled about at an appropriate distance, determinedly pretending not to listen. She cleared her throat. “We will go at once.”
We wove through the marketplace as we made our way back to the coastal fort. Most of the guards surrounded Ektha, who walked just ahead of me and Thevan, and the remaining guards followed behind. Our Ullal-grown cinnamon, cardamom, turmeric, and allspice were piled high in the stalls, and nearby chaiwallahs and food stands made good use of the spices. My favorite dosa vendor gave me a hopeful glance, but I had to shake my head at him, even though my mouth watered at the sight of the chutneys?—tamarind, mint, coconut, and so many more?—lined up on his stall.
I turned to Thevan, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze. He was trying to hide his worry, but it was obvious to me. It was in the way he moved: His heels never rested on the ground, his hand hovered near the hilt of his blade, and his eyes scrutinized every nook and cranny we passed by, as if each one hid a threat in its shadows.
