I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. He wanted me to beguile a raja when my sister lay dead? Finally, one word escaped my lips. “How?”
“You are a rajkumari of Ullal.” His words were gentler now, like a crackling fire that bit the cold away before it warmed your fingertips. “You have been training for leadership from the moment of your birth. You know?—you have always known?—that Ullal needs a leader who can think with her head, not her heart.”
He blinked and turned away, distracted for a moment. “The heart cannot be trusted.”
I stared at him. I’d never considered the life he might have led if my mother hadn’t died. Never thought about the plans he’d had to leave behind so he could sit on the throne until Ektha was grown.
And now it was my turn to make a sacrifice.
With a sigh, he looked back at me. He touched the central gem on his turban and said, “I wish this were not your burden to bear. But it is. For Ullal.”
I nodded.
Nikith’s chin trembled as he bowed to my uncle. “Perhaps while the rest of the fort is preoccupied with the raja’s arrival, I can go to the port and better account for our losses.”
My uncle reached down and blessed him. “Go. Take Thevan. Inform me of your findings tomorrow morning.”
The two men left the room, and I couldn’t help but resent them.
I pointed at the door, and my words tasted like bitter melon as they crossed my lips. “They can leave? They can mourn and take the space they need even though they have work too? They should be greeting Raja Lakshmappa, and you know it!”
My uncle’s reply left me feeling more hollow than silence. “Neither of them is the next rani of Ullal.”
Chapter 15
Raja Lakshmappa arrived just before sunset in all his gilded splendor. Horns called to the heavens as a parade of horses pranced through our streets. People threw flowers ahead of his path?—a gift of thanks to the savior of Ullal. They rejoiced as he visited our temple and made his offerings to the Spirits and then distributed sweets to the children.
Or so I was told.
I didn’t see any of it because I was trapped inside the throne room with my uncle. The raja sat atop the dais in his black kurta embroidered with gold thread that caught the light. But even with all that shimmer and the large emerald decorating his turban, he looked gray. His skin had an underlying pallor that not even the splendor of his garments could hide.
The light of the setting sun streamed through the windows to our side. It felt decidedly odd to stand on the dais beside my uncle, but he had insisted. He told me it was to practice for the position I would have to take, but he’d never had Ektha come up here before. Perhaps he thought that if I sparkled enough, nobody would notice his paleness.
I’d been scrubbed and scoured until all the evidence of earlier today had been erased. Then they’d decorated my smarting skin with a cream-colored blouse and a rose pink sari covered in embroidered flowers with gemstones sewn into each center. Rows of jangling bangles were slipped onto my wrists, and a thick ruby necklace was laid around my neck. It added weight onto my already heavy heart.
After they’d finished, I’d come to the throne room and stood atop the dais at my uncle’s side, silently sparkling like the ornament he wanted me to be.
The perspective from up here was entirely different, even though the dais was not that high. My view was widened?—allowing me to take in much more than I could from any other part of the room. During my lifetime, I must have stood?—and hidden?—in almost every nook and cranny of the throne room, but nothing compared to here. It was impossible to have a narrow focus; the perspective demanded that I see the whole picture.
Finally, horns echoed closer to our walls. Joyous music filled the courtyard as the deep beats of the dollu rang out. My jaw dropped as the sheer size of their party struck me. There must have been at least twenty players banging their large two-sided drums in unison to create so much noise. Not to mention the chiming calls of the finger cymbals ringing through the air.
The din continued outside for some time but then subdued noticeably before resuming at a lower volume. The raja and his advisers must have entered the fort. My uncle inhaled deeply and sat up taller. He nodded at me, smiling widely as he erased the sadness around his eyes. I did the same. Well, I tried.
When the doors to the throne room were flung open, it didn’t matter whether or not I could feign a smile, because there was no hiding my awe. A large contingent entered, many of them carrying platters covered in scarlet cloths. They arranged themselves on the sides of the room, creating a path between us and the doors as the Banghervari drummers let loose their song and then finished with a final bang. After a brief moment of stillness, Raja Lakshmappa swept into the throne room wearing a deep cyan kurta with mango-patterned embroidery that shimmered, making his outfit swirl like the storming seas as he stepped through the shifting light. He caught my glance and smiled instantly, staring without shame.
“Lakshmappa Arasa Bhangaraja, ruler of Banghervari,” a guard at the door announced.
“Hero of today’s battle.” The solemn man with a long gray beard who walked just behind Lakshmappa let his resonant voice carry across the room as he gestured reverently to his raja. He wore a heavily embroidered nutmeg tunic and a thick gold chain.
My uncle’s face remained calm, but the muscles at the base of his neck tightened momentarily before he composed himself.
“Friend of the great kingdom of Ullal,” Lakshmappa corrected with a shake of his head to his man.
Satisfied, my uncle rose and opened his arms in greeting. “You are most welcome on our fair shores. And your timing could not be more appreciated, by myself and my people.”
He paused. “And my niece, of course.”
I begged the Spirits to let the floor swallow me whole. Right here. Right now. Please. Ektha would have known just what to say, how to artfully sidestep my uncle’s blatant hints without causing offense. But she was gone, and I was here, alone, without any idea of what to do. I counted the embroidered petals on my sari and tried to keep my face a mask of calm.
