And now people surrounded him with smoke and spoke those same chants over him.
Behind me, the panting guards who had tried to follow me finally caught up. Someone at the door announced, “Rani Abbakka Chowta.”
His voice rang out over all the racket, and a heavy silence settled onto the room as countless unblinking eyes turned to me expectantly. Their rani. Their leader. The one who had just lost her only remaining family. The one who had been tossed into the unrelenting sea of fate without an oar to cling to.
I squeezed my left hand into a fist, remembering the feeling of the payal bells in my palm. Ullal first and foremost. Forever.
We would not be a ship lost at sea.
I drew myself straight and tried to lift one foot. Just one step. That was all I needed?—just one. The Spirits must have shifted the ground for me, because somehow I moved forward. There. Now the next. I would get to where I needed to go so long as I kept putting one foot in front of the other.
Two guards hurried in front of me while two stayed behind, and we made our way to my uncle’s bed. A few of the monks approached, circling their platters and offerings as they prayed. I waved them off. I didn’t need to commune with the Spirits?—I needed to find Tara.
The monks didn’t seem to care whether or not I wanted their prayers. They offered them anyway, droning over me and creating wreaths of smoke as they swung their platters in front of my face, making it even more difficult to find the lead healer.
I did not see Tara until she came behind me and murmured, “Rani Abbakka.”
She bowed deeply and stood when I gestured for her to rise. As she looked at me, she kept inclining her head toward where Parushi stood with my uncle, as if she wanted to scream some secret but couldn’t. I raised my eyebrows questioningly, but she just repeated the same gesture again.
Maybe she wanted us to go there. “Tara, come with me,” I instructed as I strode toward my uncle’s bed.
People had no choice but to move out of my way?—nobody wanted to block the path of their rani. I took my place next to Parushi, near my uncle’s head, and studied his face. He looked so calm, like he used to when I was a child?—before he was raja. Before his duty to Ullal erased his easy smiles and little jokes. He’d carried the burden of his coronation with a fierce determination, but there was no denying it had weighed on him. At least he’d found peace in death.
Now it was my turn to carry Ullal. But why? Tara had said his injuries were superficial earlier today. I turned to her and asked, “What happened? He seemed fine before.”
A couple of guards leaned in, and Tara’s face became a mask. “He declined quickly. During the welcome ceremony, he was a bit fatigued, and he asked to retire soon after dinner. I realized something was wrong so I had him brought here. We’d just gotten him into a bed when he began shaking and convulsing, and then he just... stopped breathing.”
It didn’t make sense. I looked to Parushi for answers, but she refused to meet my eyes.
She wasn’t looking at my uncle either, though. She just stared ahead with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. It never occurred to me how well she had come to know my uncle, but she and I had trained together since childhood, and Uncle Trimulya had watched over our progress meticulously, accepting nothing less than excellence in archery, riding, and swordsmanship. Even though his focus had always been on me, he’d also helped Parushi whenever she needed it, telling us that we could only become the best if our training partner was at her best too.
She clearly felt his loss now.
I covered her hand lightly and gave it a small squeeze. She jumped at my touch and fell to her knees.
“Rani!” she exclaimed.
“Enough of that.” I tried to pull her up. “You can’t start pretending to care about titles now.”
“You were never the rani before.Youcan’t pretend things haven’t changed.”
My skin crawled as if I were covered in a mountain of spiders. I was not Abbakka anymore; I was the rani of Ullal. I was the fire that everyone could huddle around for warmth but that nobody could touch, let alone embrace. And now, more than ever before, I was alone.
Tara made the same inclination with her head again, gesturing toward Parushi. She didn’t look angry at Parushi, though?—more like she wanted to say something, but for some reason felt she couldn’t say it here. We needed to go somewhere more private.
Fanning myself with my hand, I began to breathe heavily. I bent over and pretended to use the bed for support. Everyone around me looked torn, unable to touch me but aware of my struggle. I sneaked Parushi a wink.
“It’s so warm in here.” I let my voice quiver and falter as I placed a hand on Tara’s shoulder. “I need to go to my chambers.”
“An excellent idea, Rani.” Tara understood my ruse.
“Parushi, come help me.” My training partner heard the edge of the command in my voice.
I pretended to lean on her and Tara as we made our way out of the infirmary. Enough secret glances and nudges. So many games had been played in silence today, and look where it had gotten us.
It was time for people to speak.
Chapter 18
