I knew I was supposed to smile, but I couldn’t force myself to. The corners of my lips were bound to my heavy heart, and I could not lift them. Just keeping up the charade of calm took all my strength.
Even though Aru was returning early to take his fallen soldiers home for their last rites, he had not worn white. His indigo kurta looked almost garish against his white horse and the grief-draped people who lined the road out of Ullal?—like a fruit-laden jujube tree in the middle of a drought-weary field.
“When I imagined us leaving, I’d hoped you’d be wearing red.” Aru’s sweet drawl felt too light for the heaviness of the day. “Banghervari cannot meet its new rani in white. She must shine from the moment she enters our kingdom.”
My world wobbled with Maraan’s steps. He’d hoped I’d be in red. He had wanted us to leave Ullal side by side with me as his new wife, and we’d have been together in Banghervari while my uncle and Ektha managed Ullal. But they’d made their journey to the Spirits and deserted me here. I was the rani now, and I had no choice but to lead Ullal.
Alone, apparently.
Aru shook his head as if he were reading my thoughts. He kept his voice low and spoke through his smile as he waved to the throngs of people around us. “It is not as I had planned, but if anyone can manage as the rani of two nations, it is you. Of course, you must mourn your loved ones for now, but I cannot wait too long. My kingdom needs a rani and an heir. Soon. Send word when you are ready.”
I kept my face blank, acknowledging the crowd and sitting tall even though my foundation was cracking faster than I could rebuild. Now was not the time for talk of marriage; I needed to take care of Ullal. I gripped Ektha’s bangle?—I had refused to take it off since putting it on?—as we rode forward in silence.
My thoughts were tangled in such a tight ball that I hadn’t even begun to unravel them by the time we parted. Aru and his contingent were sent off with a deafening cheer, and they returned to Banghervari to honor their fallen heroes at home.
In the blink of an eye, it was time to do the same for those we’d lost in Ullal. Nikith had managed all the arrangements for the rites, and I soon found myself saying my final goodbyes to my uncle and sister as they lay on their pyres. I gripped the sand with my toes as if I could hold on to it if I tried hard enough.
Throngs of people lined the coast in a rippling wave that extended endlessly to my sides. I spoke words of reassurance and hope, and I prayed they didn’t sound as hollow as I felt. The heat from the flames of my torch licked my fingers and wrists, and I desperately wanted to become a part of the background, to let the gray dust sweep me away, but I needed to stay in front. Leading. Standing strong for my people and mortaring their broken hearts with all the shattered pieces of mine.
I lit my uncle’s pyre and watched the fire give him his last embrace as Nikith did the same for Ektha on my right and Thevan did it for Jagath on my left. Flames unfurled on either side of us, engulfing the pyres and driving away the darkness of the night like suns on our shores.
We stepped back and stared, unable to take our eyes off our loved ones, as if we could hold on to them if we just embraced them with our gaze for a moment longer. Soot had settled into the nooks and crannies of my folded sari, dulling it and me. Nobody spoke. We were a silent sea of white, and the winds carried our unspoken prayers as the ocean raged in front of us.
Finally, people began to leave the beach. All of them made sure to come and pay their respects to the late raja and rajkumari, and I nodded my thanks as they passed by. Parushi, Tara, and Chaaya made sure I was never alone. One of them was always with me, ready with a hand or?—in Parushi’s case?—a somewhat less than gentle nudge for people who overstayed their welcome.
When we left the beach, Parushi followed me up to my quarters. She checked the rooms before I entered and met me outside the doors after ensuring it was safe.
“You deserve some space of your own tonight,” she said. Her voice was scratchy from the smoke of the pyres, but it still had a softness to it. “I’ll stand watch from here. Try to get some rest; the sun will rise too early tomorrow no matter when you fall asleep.”
I nodded, grateful to have some time alone, but when I entered my room, I had no idea what to do with myself. Bites from the chilly night nipped at my skin as I stood in the middle of the room and embraced myself with crisscrossing arms. The glowing fireplace beckoned me, but its smoke took me straight back to the beach?—to the pyres that roared as we sent our loved ones to the Spirits. Ektha, Uncle Trimulya, Jagath, and so many more had made their final journey while we were stuck with our feet in the sand and smoke filling our nostrils.
Enough.
Someone had left a bowl full of water for me to wash my face before bed, so I threw the whole thing at the fire. The bowl shattered into countless pieces, scattering across the fireplace and burying themselves in ash while the flames sputtered and hissed.
“Are you okay?” Parushi called out.
“Yes!” I replied too quickly. “Just dropped a bowl. I’m fine.”
I was fine.
I began to shiver. Sitting next to the wet, smoldering fireplace was worse than useless, so I went to my bed. I dried my hands absentmindedly on the bedding but couldn’t bring myself to lie down. Instead, I took Mother’s payal bells from the nearby table and clutched them in one hand while I gripped Ektha’s bangle in the other and slid down the side of the bed until I thudded to the floor. I sat there, wrestling with the thoughts I wanted to stifle and clinging to the last pieces of the people I loved most, until my eyes slipped out of focus.
I awoke in darkness. Clouds obscured the moon, leaving the sky black as ink and giving the world a million places to hide its secrets. On other days, the darkness may have felt cold, but today I wrapped it around me. At night, I could have some space?—space for just me. But I knew that when that stubborn ass of a sun began to rise, I would have to wear my rani mask again.
I slipped on Ektha’s bangle and kept my mother’s payal bells tight in my fist as I climbed into bed, determined to get some rest while I could. But it was impossible to sleep. First, my blankets were too hot, then my toes too cold. The air was too stifling; then the breeze carried the smell of ashes. The silence of the night was too quiet until the crashing waves drove me to distraction. I pulled the blanket up over my head, but then the tassels tickled my toes.
It didn’t matter. I squished my eyes closed and buried my head into my pillows.
I was fine.
I was fine. I was fine. I was fine. I was fine.
It was the blanket that was the problem. They should have made it bigger. And lighter. Except on the toes?—that part needed to be heavier. And whatever idiot thought that tassels were a good idea needed to have their head examined.
I buried my head farther, but suffocating myself in the mountain of pillows didn’t help. The heat of my breath pushed against the fabric that rubbed on my cheeks until I was certain its embroidered flowers had left an imprint on my face. I lay there, decorated in my grief with nowhere to go.
Sweat trickled down my forehead, joining with the tears I hadn’t realized were streaming down my face. I pushed my head farther into the pillows to find a dry spot, but everything was wet. The skin on the back of my neck folded as I arched upward into a dry nook that I convinced myself was more comfortable.
