My stomach growled again. The roti lay in my lap with only a few bites missing, neglected as I lost myself in thought. I sighed and ate some more, stretching my shoulders as I chewed. I watched the landscape slipping by. Bleak shadows loomed but never lingered as we rolled on, and the horses made their way confidently in the dark. The pop of a raindrop on the roof of my chariot announced the incoming rainfall, and soon every one of the horses’ footsteps was accompanied by a splash. The guards muttered their annoyance, cursing sometimes as the water splattered, but I was comforted by the sound of the rain.
Of course, I wasn’t riding in it.
Something bright flashed between the trees. None of the riders said anything?—they kept their focus straight ahead, toward their destination. I squinted and stared at the tree trunks that ran by, but the black shadows kept passing without any trace of what I thought I saw.
Just as I convinced myself that I’d imagined it, a green flash wove through the trunks, toward the chariot. Another followed closely behind, and more faint lights shone deeper in the trees. All of them kept pace with the chariot, unflinching as the rain poured down and dropped through the coverage of the leaves.
“Thank you, my friends,” I whispered to the adaiman.
My heartbeat calmed as I leaned away from the window and back into my seat. Raindrops pinged and popped against the top of my chariot in a rhythm that entwined with the rolling wheels and horses’ hoofbeats. The air began to taste of the forest as the rain unlocked all its scents. I inhaled deeply and let my eyelashes cling to each other.
I was lonely, but I was not alone.
Chapter 48
Squawking gulls awoke me, and warm, humid air embraced my cheeks. For a moment, I thought I was back at home, but then my aching back reminded me of my predicament. Still, we shouldn’t have arrived at Nandavara so soon. And there were no gulls there.
The chariot slowed to a halt, and Vishwajeet approached. “Welcome to Mangaluru. The guards will escort you to your chambers. Do make yourself more presentable before the raja sees you.”
That was all the introduction I got to the partially constructed white palace in front of me. With a jolt, I realized that I recognized this building?—I’d seen it just before I’d met Thevan and Tara on the beach. But the builders had made a lot of progress since then. The center appeared finished now, and they’d begun working on the walls of the wings. Waves crashed from beyond the building, and voices buzzed up from the beach: Some spoke smoothly in our tongue, and others had a strange accent that lingered too long on thes’s.
White walls extended high above us as the guards in Banghervari green escorted me inside, where the giant spaces ate the air. Even though the palace was only partially complete, it was already filled with people?—servants, guards, and builders roamed the halls. They tried not to stare while they bowed, and I walked with my head held high, as if my neck were decorated with ornate jewels instead of the mud, sweat, and twigs that adorned me. We stopped in front of a pair of double doors, and the guards swung them open but didn’t enter.
“Rani!” A maid hurried forward, and her hand flew to her chest. “How could they leave you like this? Have they no shame?”
The other maids stared at me with more sympathy than I ever recalled during my time in Banghervari. I must have truly looked like a disheveled mess.
Time to use it to my advantage.
“The journey certainly took me by surprise.” I let my voice tremble a little as I clutched the sack of paarijaata a little too hard. “I need to clean up before...”
My words faded out, and I leaned forward as if I were struggling to keep my balance.
The maid that had greeted me rushed to my side. “Perhaps the rani would be so kind as to sit down to... give us time to prepare some water.”
I smiled at her gratefully. “I must admit that I’m longing for a comfortable chair and some warm food.”
That set off a flurry of motion. Maids scattered in different directions: to my sitting area to prepare a seat, to the kitchens to get some food, and to the fire to heat the water. One of the ladies came back with a steaming-hot cloth that she pressed on my face and neck?—every touch left it caked in mud.
There was a rap on the door.
“Must be your food and tea.” The maid closest to me made space on a nearby table. She tried to take the bag of paarijaata blossoms, but I held on firmly. Those flowers were my connection to Ullal, and I would not let them go.
“The raja has come to speak to his rani,” a guard announced from the door.
A hush fell as my maids stared at me, unsure of what to do since I hadn’t cleaned up yet. My salwar kameez was streaked in mud, I didn’t even want to think of what my hair looked like, and in this place where even the walls glittered, the only piece of jewelry I wore was my pearl gajra.
I licked my dry lips and laid Thevan’s collection of paarijaata blossoms on the freshly cleared table. “The raja is always more than welcome.”
The Spirits should have had the decency to choose a less handsome man for me to escape. Aru rushed into the room, brushing past the guard as soon as I welcomed him. His impeccably clean, pale green kurta with silver embroidery starkly contrasted my filthy attire, but he hardly seemed to notice. He drank me in with his stormy green eyes, but there was no light in his face, and his voice sounded strangely hollow. “You’ve come back.”
He stared at me from the doorway. His body leaned forward, but his feet stayed firmly in place. I tucked a curl behind my ear and tried not to fidget under his scrutiny. His eyes followed my fingers up to my hair, and he caught sight of something that made him pause.
“What’s in your hair?” he asked.
It was impossible to know what the forest had left tangled in my locks. I ran my hand through my hair, but to my surprise, I found nothing until I touched my gajra. I looked at him with raised eyebrows and he nodded.
“It’s the gajra you gave me,” I said slowly.
