Tara and Parushi walked me up to my room and helped me lie down. My servants huddled at the foot of the bed, unsure of what to do.
“Out!” Tara barked. “The rani needs space. Leave us in peace. Except for Chaaya. She can stay.”
The women were frozen in shock, but Chaaya spoke to them. “Go to the kitchens. Have them make some tea and snacks for the rani. Fresh. I will come for them when the rani is ready.”
The other ladies hesitated a moment, then hurried out the doors when Tara yelled, “Out!” again.
As soon as we were by ourselves, I got out of bed. My legs were heavy?—my heart was heavier?—but I ignored them as I sat on a chair near my window and let the cool breeze wash over me.
“Come and sit.” I gestured to the seats near me.
Tara arranged the chairs closer and sat down. Parushi followed soon after, but Chaaya stood back respectfully, keeping her eyes on the floor. She acted as if she had no place with us, but Tara would not have singled her out and asked her to stay for no reason.
I pointed to the empty chair and said, “You should probably sit too, if this is going to take as long as I suspect.”
Chaaya looked up at me with her wide eyes, dark as night, and gestured to herself in disbelief. “Me? I couldn’t possibly?—”
“Yes, Chaaya. You,” Tara said firmly. “It is not so improper. Your brother has sat with her often enough. Now sit. We need to be quick.”
I blinked. Her brother?
“Chetan,” Chaaya said softly as she sat down, shifting her weight uncomfortably in the chair.
My uncle’s favored florist. Now that I examined her face more closely, I could see the family resemblance. Even though they smiled differently, and Chaaya had a smaller nose, both were spindly, with round eyes and strong cheekbones. I felt guilty for not recognizing it sooner. Chaaya had served me for as long as I could remember, and I’d visited Chetan’s shop since childhood, but I’d never realized that they were siblings. I wondered if Ektha had known?—she probably did; she knew people like I knew blades. She’d probably figured it out by herself, quietly observing everything but never betraying anyone’s secrets.
“Out with it.” Parushi turned to Tara. “Someone is bound to wonder what we’re up to soon.”
Her words had their usual snap, but her eyes shone with a fresh layer of tears. The loss of my uncle had hit her far more deeply than I’d expected. I resolved to make sure she would have time to mourn later and tried not to resent her for it. She was not the next rani of Ullal, I reminded myself.
I heard the thought in Uncle Trimulya’s voice.
Tara leaned in, and the rest of us instinctively did the same. “I believe the raja was poisoned.”
“What?” I roared, completely forgetting our whispers. All the energy I had tried to suppress during the day exploded from me as I jumped to my feet. Finally, my fury had a target. I reached down for the weapon that wasn’t around my waist. “Argh!”
My arm cried out in pain as it slammed against Parushi’s. We looked at each other in surprise as we rubbed our arms and realized we must have both stood at the same time and struck each other in the small space.
“Shh!” Tara had her finger over her mouth. “Sit back down. Honestly, where do you think you’re going? We don’t even know who did it.”
“Are you all right, Rani?” Chaaya rose from her chair and helped me lower into mine.
“The raja sustained only a minor injury earlier today,” Tara said. “He was healing well, and I was checking him regularly. There were no signs of infection or blood poisoning and no other symptoms until he suddenly deteriorated after dinner.”
“So you suspect something in the food? Or drink?” Parushi stood. “I’ll check his cup and plate.”
“They would have been cleaned long ago,” Chaaya said.
“Is anybody else sick?” My heart turned cold as I remembered the huge table filled to the brim with food for the emissaries from Banghervari. As difficult as this situation was, it would become impossible if any of them had been affected too.
“Not to my knowledge,” Tara said.
“I haven’t heard anything from the servants,” Chaaya chimed in. “Word would have spread quickly, especially if any of our visitors had taken ill.”
“Then maybe it wasn’t poison.” I tried not to sound too hopeful. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to kill my uncle. He was beloved by our people.”
“No raja can be perfectly good to everyone all the time,” Parushi said.
I bristled. “What do you mean?”
