“Yes, that’s what I often hear from newly married women,” Parushi replied dryly. “That their husbands are so happy to listen to all that they have to say.”
“He adores me. He accepted all my terms just so we could be married.”
“Even if he does listen, and even if we do manage to stop him from working with the Porcugi, who will care for Ullal while we’re gone?” Parushi swept her hand over the view. “You’ll have to announce your steward soon. So who will it be? The peacemaker or the warrior?”
I’d told both Nikith and Thevan that I was waiting until after my wedding to announce my steward so I wouldn’t have to hear them bickering about my choice during our council meetings, but in truth, I hadn’t been able to decide between the two of them.
This gajra made the choice clear.
“Both.”
It was the only choice. Nikith would take care of our people, and Thevan would keep the Porcugi in check?—and hopefully he’d be far too busy to think about what had happened between us at the beach. His feelings would fade, and we could go back to being a rani and her general.
“ThevanandNikith?” Parushi asked, her pitch reaching higher with every word. “They can hardly stand in a room together without fighting. Remember what I said about your instincts? I take it back.”
“They’ll have to figure it out,” I said firmly.
Somehow, they’d have to find a way to keep the peace between them. They were both grown men, and I had more than enough problems to handle without adding their bickering to the list.
I stretched up to the sun, unwinding the knots in my back. “I’ll tell Nikith and Thevan that they have to guide Ullal together while I’m gone. If they can agree on a course of action, then they can go forward with my blessing. When they disagree, they’ll each need to write to me to argue their case, and then I will deliver my judgment.”
Parushi bit the corner of her lip as she considered. I’d already made up my mind, so it didn’t matter whether she agreed or not, but it would make it so much easier if she thought this was a good idea. A willing partner was a far better ally than someone who ran beside you just to avoid the spear at their back.
She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as if searching for answers on my face. I tried to keep an open expression but couldn’t shake the feeling that I looked like a tiger trying to pass itself off as a rabbit.
Parushi stifled a laugh. “You can’t look innocent, so don’t even try. Besides, you don’t need to look innocent with me. Just honest.”
“Fine.” I looked her in the eye and didn’t blink. “I honestly believe this is the best plan.”
Satisfied, she nodded. “Me too. So long as Nikith and Thevan don’t kill each other, and we don’t get killed by the Porcugi in Banghervari.”
I picked up the gajra, and then I grabbed my blade as I stood. “Let’s take our swords with us. Just in case.”
Chapter 27
I was married in an ocean of petals and gold. People applauded and draped us in gifted finery as they literally paid homage to our union. The ceremony was held in the gardens at the entrance of the fort, far away from the beaches where Thevan and many of his soldiers stood guard, facing away from our wedding as they protected us against the threat from the seas. I refused to look in his direction.
Instead, I focused all my attention on my soon-to-be husband. Aru was practically luminous in his golden kurta, and his smile never faltered. If anything, he only glowed more when he looked at me, and he hardly took his eyes away. He seemed to be more infatuated than ever, even with my ridiculous terms. When he noticed me peeking at him from beneath my lowered lashes, he winked, making me blush. That just made him smile even wider.
His unabashed adoration made me catch my breath. I had agreed to this union for the sake of Ullal, but Aru? It seemed like Aru had said yes because he was marryingme.
As Aru and I walked around the fire, I tried to ignore the memory of the heat of Ektha’s pyre. And Uncle Trimulya’s. And Samanth’s. Warmth crept up my cheeks as I kept my eyes on the ground and followed the ring around the flames, careful to stay close enough to keep it quick but far enough to avoid burning our ornate wedding garments. Afterward, when I took a seat on Aru’s left instead of his right, I felt the balance shift as I took my place on the side closer to his heart.
When we finally exchanged our flower garlands, the world stopped. Silence blanketed all of us, and everyone held their collective breath, not even daring to break the quiet with an exhale. I placed the red and white flowers around Aru’s neck, and a flash of green light raced across the skies from the nearby mountains.
Matanta’s green.
The crowd gasped, but Aru just stared at me dreamily. “You are, indeed, Spirits blessed.”
He had already seen me with the adaiman, but there was no way he could have known about Matanta. And I certainly wasn’t about to tell him now.
“They were probably drawn in by all the sweets you sent over,” I murmured back.
I’d avoided meeting his gaze all day, maintaining the modesty befitting a bride, but I risked a glance at him now. Spirits, his smile was perfect. So honest and joyful and completely uninhibited. I bowed my head down again and tried to hide my blushing cheeks.
He took two of his fingers and placed them under my chin, raising my face until my eyes met his. The crowd had resumed its cheering, but at that moment it was just the two of us. Him and me, together on the mandap with its fire burning ever higher and filling us with its heat. The warmth swirled around me, and I couldn’t breathe as I stared into the ocean that was his eyes. I slipped deeper and deeper, but I had no urge to come up for air. I was lost. And I had no desire to be found.
“You need never hide your face from me.” His words danced into my ears and down my back, making me tingle. “From now on, the scale of my day’s success will be measured by the number of times I can make you smile.”
