Speaking my plan left a bitter taste on my tongue as I echoed the words that my uncle had once told me: We would tell everyone that Nikith was unwell and announce his death after the Raksha Bandhan festival was done. I told the soldiers that lingering on it now would do us no good, and they nodded their understanding before saluting and leaving. I only watched them go partway down the hall before returning to my preparations.
There was work to be done.
Before we’d known of the threat to Devi, I’d suggested hosting a grand Raksha Bandhan ceremony at the fort. I could introduce her to the people of Ullal and also have her “tie”?—with my help?—a rakhi around Thevan’s wrist so Ullal’s trusted general could swear his fealty to the next rani.
The fort would be filled with food, color, noise, and chaos. Chaos that I could use to sneak to Matanta’s mountain without notice. I’d spoken to my council prior to Devi’s birth about the need to visit him. After they’d gotten over the shock of me knowing the legendary winged lion and had accepted the strange way that time seemed to bend around the mountain during all my previous visits, the easiest part of the conversation was getting them to agree that I needed to honor the will of the Spirits and visit Matanta after the baby was born.
Nikith’s betrayal had made Parushi, Thevan, and Tara nervous, though. They wanted to delay my journey to Matanta and cancel the celebration, but I refused. As a compromise, they insisted on two things: First, that Devi tie Thevan’s rakhi on one of the fort’s roofed balconies, which would allow us to be seen while also staying far out of reach. Second, Thevan would accompany me on my journey.
Part of me knew that I should be distancing myself from my general because I was getting too comfortable in his company, but another part?—a much bigger part?—also knew the journey would be far more pleasant with him by my side. I often lost track of time when we were together because our conversation flowed so easily. Besides, Thevan could protect me better than anyone else, and him coming along was a reasonable safety precaution.
At least that’s what I told myself when I agreed to their terms. Surely it had nothing to do with the fact that we’d be alone for the first time since he’d carried me out from the stepwell.
Now that the day of the festival had arrived, the gates to the fort had been opened, and people from all walks of life poured through the doors. Tradespeople, farmers, soldiers, and shopkeepers were dressed in every color under the sun, and they mingled together in their revelry, recreating nature’s wondrous rainbow within the confines of our walls.
The fort hadn’t looked so fine since my wedding. It had been scrubbed from ceiling to floor, and the grounds were manicured to perfection. Chetan had outdone himself with his flowers: orange marigold garlands were draped over the gates and walls, pink champa blossoms peeked out of crevices in the garden’s statues, and the tables were covered in red rose petals and white paarijaata blossoms.
The intoxicating fragrance of the flowers was matched only by the aromas of the food from our kitchens. Coconut, ginger, and curry leaves from the goli baje, tangy tamarind and biting ginger from the sev puri, and cinnamon, cardamom, and cumin from the palav blended together as food came out in a constant stream. But no matter how many platters were sent out, they always returned to the kitchen completely empty.
I could see it all from the spacious roofed balcony, where I stood with Thevan and Devi. It wasn’t the same as being there and feeling the spark in the air that traveled from one person to the next, lighting every heart aflame. But this would have to do for now. For Devi’s sake.
Trumpets blasted in unison from the roof, drawing all eyes up to where we stood, and we waved at the crowd below. People shrieked and clapped as they pointed at Trimuladevi, and the trumpets sounded again in a call for silence. I’d practiced my speech introducing the rajkumari so much that I hardly felt myself speak it. Before I realized how much time had passed, I was holding Devi’s hands and tying a rakhi around Thevan’s wrist.
Devi wiggled and squirmed as the crowd below us screamed its approval, but I made sure her hand was cocooned in mine as I secured the bracelet. Just as we finished, Devi grabbed onto Thevan’s rakhi. She refused to let go until Thevan gently pried her loose and let her hold on to one of his fingers instead. The people clapped even louder at the sight, and Thevan raised their hands up together.
I smiled at him as he turned toward me, and we stood side by side. The people of Ullal exploded into raucous applause, cheering not because I stood beside him but because they trusted me as their rani and him as my general. When they began to settle down, Thevan took his finger from Devi’s grip and raised his hand to the awestruck crowd. He swore an oath to protect Trimuladevi as a brother would his sister. Then Devi and I gave him the sword I’d commissioned. Its sheath was decorated with gemstones and colored leather, and its hilt had a mongoose carved into it.
Thevan unsheathed the blade and gently tested it with his thumb, smiling as it drew blood with only the lightest touch. “It’s a masterpiece. Thank you.”
After he sheathed the blade, we raised our hands to the crowd, and the people below clapped and whistled with renewed fervor. I stood tall next to my general, who towered over me and looked every bit a soldier with his blue, white, and gold uniform and the talwar at his side. Devi’s wide eyes stared out at the people below us, and she snuggled into my arms.
“Ullal forever!” Thevan yelled as he made a fist and held it out.
The crowd erupted in cheers, and horns rang out from the rooftops in short celebratory bursts. Devi began to cry, but nobody other than me could hear her above the din. I pulled her close and patted her gently on the back before reaching out to tap Thevan on the shoulder. “It’s time.”
Thevan gave me a curt nod, and we left the balcony even though the crowd was still screaming. Someone below had the savvy to send out a volley of servers with fresh platters as we left the balcony, and the voices below quieted as people chewed instead of cheered.
I found Parushi flanked by a knot of guards, and I handed Devi to her. “Keep her safe. Sometimes the Spirits don’t take kindly to questions. She may become Ullal’s last hope.”
Parushi stared past me as she saluted, refusing to speak the worries that hid behind her pursed lips. Nallini took me to a private chamber to help me change into a plain gray salwar kameez. It was similar to the clothes that many of our servants wore, and I hoped to sneak out without attracting any attention. She said nothing when she noticed my trembling fingers, but she squeezed my hand before bowing deeply and opening the door for me to leave.
Thevan was waiting in the hallway. The long white shawl he’d wrapped around his shoulders covered most of his uniform and weapons. Worry was etched on his face, but he just pulled his shawl tight and went to the nearest exit when he saw me. I followed wordlessly behind him, and we stepped out into the sun. We wasted no time looking back as we wove through the crowds and left as quickly as we could.
I looked up to the hills and Matanta’s mountain, which towered above us. It called to me, more insistent than ever in its demand that I return to its peak.
“I’m coming,” I whispered.
Thevan stayed in front of me as we squelched through the muddy forest. He pushed the brush out of the way and held it just long enough for me to catch and hold it myself. He knew I would have protested if he’d tried to clear the way too much, so he made it just difficult enough to suit my pride.
We couldn’t see the fort through the trees and brush anymore, but it tugged at my heart. I worried about Devi. She had three nursemaids watching her, as well as Parushi and her guards, but I still fretted. What if I’d been wrong to trust Nallini? What if she’d somehow managed to recruit Parushi to her side? I chuckled at the thought. Parushi would make a terrible spy?—her emotions were written on her face more clearly than mine.
“What was that about?” Thevan raised an eyebrow.
“Just thinking about whether or not Parushi would make a good spy.”
He snorted. That was answer enough for me, but then his eyebrows furrowed, and he stopped. “That reminds me?—I have something for you.”
Thevan untied a plain brown pouch from his belt and handed it to me. I gasped as I pulled out strings of lustrous white pearls. They shone even in the limited sunlight of the forest?—a fortune on my fingertips.
