Let the games begin.
“It is always a pleasure to see you, Chetan.” I wrinkled my brow and put a hand to my chest, feigning worry. “I hadn’t realized how much time had passed since my last visit. Let’s sit. Don’t strain yourself on my account.”
“It is never a strain to serve you, Rajkumari,” Chetan said. “I am always happy to be of service to you and your family. This is nothing. My back is just a little weary and my knee causes me problems now and then. Not all of us can age in such good health as your uncle.”
He dipped his chin, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. Apparently, he wanted to see if I’d been paying attention for all those years when I’d come with Uncle Trimulya. He was testing me, but I wouldn’t be tricked into revealing anything so easily. First rule of haggling: Never show interest in your true objective.
“No, Chetan,” I said. “I’m sure you have a long day ahead of you. I couldn’t possibly stay if I knew that you were suffering in silence. I insist we sit down.”
I gestured to my guards and had them bring over a couple of chairs that were in the corner. One was taller and straight backed, while the other was curved and had a round blue cushion.
“Give Chetan the cushioned chair so he can be more comfortable,” I instructed.
Chetan couldn’t argue with me. He had to keep pretending to be infirm if he wanted any chance of extracting some gossip from me, but I could see his pride fighting against it. After an almost imperceptible pause, he sat down in the chair. Chetan’s lips tightened as he realized he now had to look up at me, but he caught himself quickly.
“My thanks, Rajkumari,” he said. “Your family is always so generous. Ullal is lucky to have leaders like you and your uncle.”
“My uncle has always held you and your family in the highest regard.” I traded compliment for compliment before pushing forward. “He is the one who insisted I come to you for the flowers we will need tonight. This morning he told me you were the only one he could trust with such an important task.”
Chetan gave me a small smile and then gestured to a young man standing in the corner. A small twitch of Chetan’s fingers sent his apprentice scrambling to scoop up baskets from around the shop. The hem of the gangly youth’s pants stopped just above his knobby ankles, and he walked with the awkward gait of someone who had grown too quickly in too short a time. He brought back large baskets of bright orange marigolds and delicate white jasmine, which he set between us.
Chetan leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his lean stomach as he spoke. “It must be a busy time. I know your uncle was never fond of early mornings.”
“We have much to do.” I picked up a jasmine cutting, and its richly sweet and slightly musky fragrance wafted over me. “As I’m sure you heard, my uncle’s party was attacked on the way back from Banghervari. We lost seven guards, may the Spirits guide them, and my uncle wants to make sure they are sent to the Spirits with the honor they deserve.”
“May the Spirits guide them,” Chetan repeated. He snapped his fingers at the boy and pointed at a few baskets of wide green mango leaves that still had the bright glossiness of freshness. “Such tragic losses. We did hear about that here in the market, and you know how these stories spread?—they become wilder with every retelling. People were even suggesting that the raja himself was almost killed and that you and your sister went to the temple this morning to pray for his recovery.”
The florist’s sharp gaze did not leave my face as he needled me for more information. I wished that Ektha?—with her sweet smiles and disarming mannerisms?—was here instead of me. I did my best to keep my expression calm and speak as much truth as possible so I could sprinkle in my lies more believably.
“The rumors have run wild indeed.” I picked up an orange marigold garland, genuinely admiring the cheery blooms and Chetan’s neat work. “I did not go to pray for my uncle.”
Chetan raised his eyebrows skeptically but did not interrupt.
I allowed my fury at the Porcugi’s attack to bubble to the surface and hide the lie I was about to speak. “I went to pray for the guards we lost. They fought with honor, and their deaths will not go unavenged. The raja is deep in talks with his council to determine our best strategy. He is the one who asked me and my sister to pray for the families of our fallen and to make arrangements for their last rites.”
“It is a relief to hear that the raja is well.” Chetan searched my expression as he spoke his next words. “Rumor had it he was in the infirmary all night as monks kept vigil.”
I placed the garlands back in the basket, taking care not to crush the blossoms. So Chetan knew my uncle was in the infirmary. But how much did he know? How far could I push my lie before he wouldn’t believe it? No doubt he’d be relaying our conversation to the merchants next door as soon as I left. I needed to give him just enough truth to convince him.
A little flattery wouldn’t hurt either.
“Of course, I cannot speak this openly to anyone else.” I leaned in and lowered my voice. “But the raja was indeed in the infirmary. The Tiger of Ullal would not let anyone fight for him and sustained a minor injury in battle. The healers made quick work of it, but they kept him in the infirmary overnight for some rest. He has recovered now and was already working hard this morning so he can be at the rites tonight.”
Chetan nodded but was in no rush to speak. He pointed to a basket of bright pink roses, and the boy hurried over. Chetan held a blossom up to me for inspection. I took the rose, but its bright petals clashed with my mood, so I handed it back. Chetan dropped it in the basket and batted his hand above it, prompting the boy to pick it up and scurry away.
“It would be a relief for many to see the raja well and among his people.” Chetan locked his snapping black eyes on mine and didn’t even bother to maintain his hunched back as he leaned toward me and spoke without a hint of a waver in his voice. “It is hard for some to trust that the raja is well when there are so many wild stories flying. Some people are even saying that the Porcugi have returned. And that they are responsible for the attack.”
Neither of us blinked as I considered what he said.
This was his trade-off. He would spread word of my uncle’s good health if I told him the truth about the attackers. For a moment I considered lying, but I realized it would be of no use. With so many dead, the return of the Porcugi could not possibly remain a secret for long. The guards had been sworn to secrecy, but it was only a matter of time before there would be enough whispers to create a roar. People would know of the Porcugi’s return, whether I denied it now or not, but if Chetan spread word of my uncle’s health, then at least they might have some faith that we could defeat these monsters.
“Those rumors are true,” I acknowledged steadily, even though my heart beat like a drum. “The Porcugi have returned.”
Chetan let out a low whistle as he sat back in his chair. “Spirits help us.”
I nodded solemnly. “The raja is the Tiger of Ullal. He will send those monsters back to whatever abyss they came from. The Porcugi may have struck first, but Ullal will strike last, and we will make them pay for this.”
He studied my face, searching for secrets veiled behind my eyelashes. I returned his gaze unflinchingly and hoped he would accept the trade-off.
