Chaaya looked as if she would have been more comfortable if the vines on the walls were eating her alive. Nikith and Thevan watched the drama unfold, slack jawed. They may have been arguing only moments ago, but now they were united in their confusion.
“Fine.” Parushi’s words were clear and crisp, like the morning dew that cut through the sleepiness of last night’s sleep. “Your uncle was my father.”
She raised her hand to cut off Thevan’s questions and continued, “I couldn’t be acknowledged because he and my mother never married, obviously. I’m told that he loved her and provided for her. Quite well, apparently. Well enough to provide for both my family and Shalini’s. She and her mother lived with us until Amma became sick. Very sick. Shalini’s mother wanted me to stay so we’d still get the money. Amma wanted better for me, so one day, while Shalini and her mother were at the market, Amma put me on a horse and sent me here with a letter that begged the raja to let me stay. He did. But he made me promise to keep my identity a secret and say that I was sent to be a part of the army. It was a promise I was happy to keep. I have no interest in being royalty.”
I lowered myself to the ground, sitting with a thud. Everyone else followed my lead, but I ignored them. I needed to think. Children were sent to the palace for training all the time. It happened for any number of reasons?—parents couldn’t afford another mouth to feed, or they thought it would give their child a chance for a better life, or they hoped to bring honor to their family. I’d never thought to ask why Parushi had come.
Why my cousin had come.
“You’re next in line for the throne,” I said. “You’re the other option.”
Parushi’s face turned red. “Absolutely not. I want none of your gilded chains.”
“We need to keep this a secret!” Nikith’s eyes were wide. The surprise had chased some of the shadows from his face.
Thevan nodded. Worry cut deep lines in his forehead, and he shifted his shoulders, putting himself between me and Parushi. “Nobody can know. It will only cause unrest.”
“Be serious,” I said. “We can’t keep this a secret. Shalini must have told someone, so it’s only a matter of time before the rumor spreads. If we tell people now, then we can control the way that they hear it. We can frame it in such a way that it reassures them.”
“It doesn’t matter how we say it.” Nikith chose his words with care. “If anyone disagrees with you or your policies, they’ll see Parushi as... an option. Someone they can have on the throne instead of you. It’s one thing to unseat a rani and throw the nation into a violent civil war without a clear successor; it’s quite another to assassinate a ruler to make room for the next in line.”
My mouth went dry. That’s why Shalini had tried to kill me; she thought Parushi would inherit the throne. She must have believed she’d have better luck convincing Parushi to pay the tithes. How many others would feel the same way?
“Anyone that thinks such a thing is a fool.” Parushi pointed to me. “She’s lived and breathed this sacrifice-for-Ullal nonsense since she was born. I’ve watched her live a life of luxury in return for having no say in her choices. I have no interest in a life like that.”
“But what if something did happen to me?” I pressed. “Would you let Ullal fall into a war of succession that could destroy our nation? Or would you take your position as rani?”
Parushi took a step back, abashed. Her lips trembled as she clenched her jaw. “That’s not fair” was all she could manage to whisper.
“Nobody here thinks you want to become rani.” Tara put a hand on Parushi’s shoulder. “But you have known this truth your whole life. Give the rani some space. I think, perhaps, you could use it too.”
Parushi looked from Tara to me and opened her mouth but couldn’t find the right words. Her shoulders slumped, and she allowed Tara to usher her out of the stepwell.
Nobody said anything as they left. I stood near the stepwell’s lapping water, struggling to assemble any semblance of a coherent thought. Parushi had been my training partner my whole life. I’d trusted her more than almost anyone, but she’d kept this secret from me all along. Even Thevan looked completely disoriented, and he stared at the stepwell’s door long after it closed.
Finally, Nikith broke the silence. “You should send her away. Somewhere she can’t cause more trouble.”
“She is a soldier and therefore under my command,” Thevan said. “The rani may have favored you with a position as her adviser, but you have no authority over the army. This is not your concern.”
Nikith squared up against the much larger man. “The rani’s safety is always my concern.”
“No less mine,” Thevan growled as he leaned over Nikith. “For far longer than you’ve even known her.”
“Quiet, both of you,” I commanded. “I need to think.”
This was Parushi’s home, and she’d never shown any interest in ruling. If anything, she’d avoided that life as much as possible. But there was no denying that others might use her birthright for their own purposes, and we needed to be sure she wasn’t a part of it. “Parushi stays with us. For now. But make sure she’s always watched.”
Thevan nodded. It wasn’t a great solution, but it was all I had. An uncomfortable silence hung between us.
Nikith cleared his throat. “It would seem that it’s time for us to revisit my earlier proposal.”
His tone was deliberately even and quiet. He tugged a paper out from the sheaf he was carrying, and I recognized the Banghervari seal. “Marriage. And on that front, I have good news. Raja Lakshmappa is still eager for a union. It would seem he was quite taken with you during his last visit. He still calls you ‘the Spirits-blessed Rani’ whenever he writes.”
Aru.
Aru was still waiting. I hadn’t even thought of him since the day he left a lifetime ago. I’d been far too busy to reminisce about the man with sea-colored eyes and a voice that was too sweet for this world. In truth, though, it had been only a couple of months since I’d seen him here, in this very stepwell, and the adaiman had swirled between us.
The adaiman.
