Days became weeks, but nobody arrived with any more of Nallini’s things, no matter how many times she asked. Whenever I mentioned it, she would shrug and say she was sure they would come eventually.
“Have you spoken to Vishwajeet about it?” I asked. My stomach was rolling like stormy seas, and conversation would be a welcome distraction.
Nallini suddenly became intensely interested in sorting through the star-shaped pink flowers she’d collected in the gardens at sunrise. She sat on a sage green rug in the morning sun, arranging them by the intensity of their color.
“When the rani asks a question, you must answer.” Parushi sat next to me on the sitting room sofa. “Anything else is disrespectful.”
Even though Nallini had made herself useful with her teas and remedies?—and had otherwise stayed out of our way?—Parushi’s opinion of her had not softened. If anything, her anger had amplified as she’d been unable to find an excuse to dismiss the monk.
“I brought all of my healing supplies with me, so I have what I need,” Nallini said. She sighed when she realized I was still waiting for her to answer my question. “I have not spoken to him because I imagine it’s his doing.”
“He wants something from you first.” I nodded as I followed her implication and stirred my tea as I thought. Chaaya had given up on trying to make me eat breakfast?—it inevitably resulted in a mess she had to clean?—but she always ensured I had ginger tea, and Nallini’s suggestion of adding a bit of cardamom had made the tea especially effective. “He’s waiting for you to prove yourself before letting you get comfortable.”
“Yes,” Nallini said flatly. “And nothing of interest has come in your letters.”
“What do you know about our letters?” Parushi growled.
“I make sure that all of the rani’s letters are seen by Vishwajeet’s messenger.” Nallini was unflinching in her truth. “And you cannot tell me that comes as a surprise given how little information they contain.”
I leaned back on the sofa and sipped my tea, welcoming the warmth that helped my stomach settle. She wasn’t wrong. After we’d realized Vishwajeet was reading my mail, Parushi had sent a message to Thevan and Nikith to let them know that all sensitive information needed to go through her, and Chaaya had taken care of filtering the information from Tara and Chetan. Thevan, Nikith, and Tara still wrote to me regularly, but their letters only contained good news, which was completely useless to Vishwajeet.
“We need to give you something more,” I said. “You can’t continue to stay here without your things. And they still haven’t brought you a bed.”
Nallini chuckled softly. “I would have to give him a kingdom before he would even consider giving me a bed.
“Which I have no intention of doing,” she hastily added upon seeing Parushi’s expression.
Parushi’s face didn’t change. “I’m sure.”
“Enough,” I said. Their banter might have been entertaining at another time, but parsing through our conversation while trying not to vomit was exhausting enough without having to play peacemaker between the two women. “As it turns out, I think you may have missed one of my letters.”
I pulled out a letter from Thevan and Nikith, which Parushi had given to me while Nallini was out in the gardens. Parushi gasped and stood between me and Nallini, glaring at my hand as if she could force it back if she stared hard enough.
“Now who’s disrespecting the rani?” Nallini asked.
I wondered how she managed to put so much innocence in her voice when she knew the reaction she’d get from Parushi.
Parushi didn’t disappoint. She whirled around, raising her finger and opening her mouth as if to speak before closing it again. Finally, she was able to capture the words that evaded her tongue. “It’s not the same.”
“Of course,” Nallini said. Her voice was pure compassion, but the corner of her mouth twitched.
Parushi stormed off to the quarters she shared with Nallini and Chaaya, but she didn’t close the door between their room and the sitting room. No matter how angry she was, she still wanted to listen.
My mouth went dry at the thought of the risk I was taking by revealing this much to Nallini, so I took a big gulp of tea before I unfolded the note I’d been holding.
“I think you may have missed this letter.” I gestured over the lines written in two styles of handwriting. “It came in while you were in the garden.”
Nallini knew as well as I did that any letter addressed to me would have been taken to her first, but she nodded graciously. “I see.”
“My brother-in-law and general have let me know that an emissary from the Porcugi came to the fort at home?—I mean, in Ullal.” Now was not the time for homesickness.
“An emissary?” Nallini asked in confusion. “I didn’t think they could speak our language.”
“They can’t?—their emissary is a man,” I said. “His name is Kamran. When the Porcugi attacks had just started, he came to Ullal to demand a tithe on their behalf. He told us his parents had been traders, but the Porcugi captured their ship and killed them. When they realized Kamran could speak many languages, they offered to spare him and give him a life of comfort if he would learn their language and serve as their emissary.”
“And he agreed,” Nallini murmured. “They must have been very compelling if he’s serving his parents’ killers.”
“He takes great pride in his lifestyle.” I disliked the taste of the words in my mouth. “Anyway, now that Banghervari is no longer paying Ullal’s share of the tithes, Kamran returned to our fort and met with my advisers. He threatened renewed Porcugi attacks and promised”?—I paused as I skimmed the letter to find the words?—“‘a war unlike any we had ever seen. Our nightmares come to life,’ he said.”
