An adaiman had left me a turmeric root after Aru had left.
I’d met Aru in a turmeric field.
He’d even gifted me a heaping platter of turmeric when he’d come to the fort.
The adaiman were leading me to Aru. How had I missed it? The day after I’d received the feather and turmeric root, I’d shoved them into a locked trunk and hadn’t given them a second thought as I made myself busy.
“If I married Raja Lakshmappa, it would solve some problems but create so many more.” I spoke my thoughts as I sorted through them. “We’d have money, yes, and an heir would... come, surely. But how would we rule the two nations? I would not let him govern Ullal, and he must feel the same way about me having a say in Banghervari.”
Nikith stepped closer to me. “There will be problems no matter what, but if you decide to marry the raja, we can settle some of the issues during the negotiations for your marriage. This is the advantage of a marriage amongst royal families: Each has something the other one wants. Ordinarily, one cannot command a raja.” His glance at Thevan made his implications about being able to command a soldier clear, and my general glowered in the shadows of the stepwell. “But he might agree to use his rather considerable power to our advantage if a marriage hangs in the balance.”
Nikith tapped his rolled papers against his chest. “That’s where I come in. I will negotiate your terms, and you can marry the way that you want to. You could gain access to resources that would have otherwise been beyond your reach?—without giving up Ullal.”
Thevan began to reply, but I held out my hand to silence him as I paced up and down the edge of the water. White lotuses drifted with the gentle current. Those that got caught among each other or tangled with other debris inevitably flipped and dipped into the water as they struggled, but those that flowed with the current and followed the natural course stayed afloat.
Ullal needed money. And an established line of succession. And Aru adored me. The Spirits themselves had even blessed this union. What was holding me back? Thevan? He was a soldier, and?—much as I hated to admit it?—Nikith was right: Thevan would follow my commands whether we were married or not. Marrying him would not bring Ullal any tangible advantages.
My duty weighed heavy on my heart, stifling it.
“You will go to Banghervari,” I said to Nikith.
I refused to meet Thevan’s gaze and kept my eyes on my brother-in-law instead.
Nikith’s face lit up with a smile as he folded his hands in thanks to the Spirits. “Thank you, sister. I promise I will make sure that the negotiation favors you; Ektha would have demanded no less from me, and I will make her proud.”
His mention of my sister pulled at my heart, but I wouldn’t make this easy for him. “Don’t be so quick with your gratitude. I will marry for the good of Ullal or not at all. If Lakshmappa wants us to marry, he must agree to help us eliminate the threat of the Porcugi and also agree that the wedding will be in Ullal. We can use the wealth it will bring to help pay off some of the more immediate costs of the war.”
Nikith hardly looked troubled. “I’m sure he’ll agree. They already fought in one battle by our side, and while having the wedding in Ullal will be a loss for Banghervari, I imagine it is a price the raja is willing to pay.”
I smiled wryly. “I’m glad you think that will be easy, because my other two conditions will be harder won. But they are nonnegotiable.”
Nikith’s face fell.
“First, I will remain the rani and ruler of Ullal, and second, our first daughter will be Ullal’s next rani.”
For a moment, my words echoed through the stepwell. Then Thevan erupted into laughter. “These negotiations are doomed.”
“But... but in Banghervari, the men inherit the throne,” Nikith sputtered. “The raja will expect to join our nations?—for you to rule together and then have your first son take the throne.”
I shook my head and stood tall. I was not discussing the issue with my council anymore; I had made my decision as rani. “There is no such thing as ‘ruling together,’ because in the end, one of us must make the choice when we disagree. And it will be me. I will rule Ullal, followed by our eldest daughter. Otherwise, I will not marry him.”
“You’re making this impossible.” Shadows returned to Nikith’s face. “I thought you understood why Ullal needs this. Don’t make it harder than it needs to be.”
“I’m making it exactly as difficult as it must be,” I replied, unmoved. “If anyone can do it, brother, it is you. I am trusting you with this, just as my people have trusted me with caring for Ullal. These are my terms. I will not accept anything less.”
With that, I walked past Thevan and Nikith and went straight up the stairs, leaving no room for questions or arguments. Chaaya followed behind me, and I did everything I could to keep my face in a mask of calm as my thoughts stormed in my mind.
What if Aru didn’t accept? I’d have to find a way to continue to fund our war without his money. I’d also need to figure out how to protect our ships so our economy wouldn’t collapse, and we’d need to hide the truth about Parushi. Or embrace it. No, probably hide it. But the best way to amplify a rumor was to try to kill it. Perhaps we ought to let it fade out?
I had so many loose ends in my hands and no way to tie them if Aru didn’t agree to my terms. How would I make it all work?
As uncomfortable as these questions were, somehow they were far easier to answer than the thought that kept demanding my attention, no matter how hard I pushed it away.
What if he said yes?
Chapter 23
Nikith assembled his negotiation party and was ready to leave for Banghervari just three days later. I’d insisted that Parushi accompany him, saying it was because she would be another set of eyes to gather information. She hadn’t argued, even though we both knew it was partly because I wanted her farther away from my throne. At least until I figured out what to do about her.
