Chaaya stared at us in disbelief when we returned to Parushi’s room.
“Why are you back?” she asked. “What happened?”
“Banghervari defeated the Porcugi.” I slid down the wall, feeling the exhaustion of a night without sleep. “And I lost the battle with Vishwajeet.”
I told her about what had happened at the infirmary and how I needed to prepare to meet with the raja tomorrow.
“About this emissary that’s coming...,” Nallini began hesitantly.
“What about him?” I asked.
Nallini rubbed her eyebrow. “I overheard some of the council members while you were talking to the raja. They said this visit was more of a formality than anything. Apparently, Vishwajeet has already reassured the emissary that he will make sure the deal goes through.”
She paused and took a deep breath. “And that he’ll handle the ‘little rani’ if necessary.”
“He thinks he can handle me?” Pinpricks covered my scalp and neck. “He doesn’t know me as well as he thinks.”
“You’re not the first person to say that.” Nallini winced. “But don’t underestimate the resourcefulness of an honorless man.”
Chapter 37
The following morning, a messenger arrived to let me know that the raja was unwell and that he’d asked to postpone our lunch meeting. The delay was a relief given the planning we needed to do, so I sent word that I understood and would be praying for his quick recovery.
Thankfully, Parushi was feeling much better, and while she couldn’t move quickly, she was able to get out of bed after Nallini closed her wound. We’d realized that we needed help?—the kind of help we could only find in Ullal. I needed people at my side who had fought the Porcugi and faced those horrors but still understood the importance of continuing to fight. There was one major problem: We couldn’t send a message asking for people to come stand with me without Vishwajeet intercepting it.
Ultimately, I’d decided to send a letter to Thevan that was filled with the usual pleasantries about my pregnancy and lies about my comfort in Banghervari, but I’d tie it with Samanth’s bracelet in the hope that Thevan would see it and know something was amiss. My heart pounded as I knotted the ends of the bracelet. The thought of Thevan coming to Banghervari to stand with me against the tithes to the Porcugi?—and be at my side once again?—made my chest tight. I held the letter close to my heart and wished there was a way to ensure that Thevan would open the letter himself, but there was nothing I could do beyond hope; I refused to pray to the Spirits, since their message had brought me into this mess. Chaaya was kind enough not to mention my flushed cheeks when she took the letter from me so she could deliver it to the palace’s messengers.
It was Parushi who came up with our backup plan. She suggested that one of us should try to deliver our message in person, just in case the bracelet wasn’t understood. Parushi insisted she was healed enough to handle the ride because Nallini had already closed the wound, but Nallini had flatly informed her that speaking wishful thoughts didn’t make them the truth. Parushi had no reply.
That eliminated Parushi?—anything that rendered her mute had to be considered a worthy argument?—and it was impossible for me or Nallini to leave without causing a stir, so it fell to Chaaya. It made sense, especially since she’d recently received word that her nephew was ill, so we could just say she’d gone back to help care for him. People were bound to notice eventually, but hopefully we could keep her departure a secret long enough for her to get a safe head start.
Chaaya’s eyes were wide when I asked if she would go, but she didn’t make herself small, as she so often did.
“For you, Raniji,” she said in a whisper.
I thanked Chaaya, suddenly nervous on her account, but we didn’t have time to linger. We hastily packed her supplies and hid them inside of Nallini’s large healer’s bag. Nallini often went to the woods to gather herbs, so it was doubtful she’d attract any notice. She would hide among the trees and meet Parushi and Chaaya there so they wouldn’t have to go to the stables carrying Chaaya’s bag.
Once Nallini was gone, Chaaya and I retreated into my bedchamber. In our rush to prepare, I hadn’t had time to think, but now I realized that we were about to be parted for the first time since my mother had asked Chaaya to care for me. My hands began to tremble, and I reached for hers. Chaaya’s fingers were shaking too, but she stood tall.
“Don’t fret, Raniji. I will manage,” she said, and I could hear the mettle of a lifetime of hard work behind her words.
I squeezed her hands tight and looked into the eyes I’d known since childhood. Before the tears could come, I let go and went to my trunk. I pulled out a thick black shawl and handed it to her. “Take this. It will keep you warm and help you hide in the shadows, since it blends with Maraan’s coat perfectly.”
“Maraan?” Chaaya blinked in surprise as she accepted the shawl. She knew how much I loved him. “No, he should stay with you. I’ll take another horse from the stables.”
“You must take Maraan,” I said firmly. “He’ll protect you. And the hostlers are used to seeing you with him, thanks to all the rides you’ve taken with Parushi to keep him exercised. They won’t think anything of it, but it might raise a few eyebrows if you take another horse.”
Chaaya pursed her lips, as if she were looking for a reason to disagree, but eventually said, “As you wish.”
“There is one more thing I wish.” I took off all my bangles until I finally reached the last one: Ektha’s bangle with my mother’s payal bells attached. With tingling fingertips, I pulled it off and slid it over Chaaya’s hand.
“May they protect you as they have me,” I whispered.
Tears filled Chaaya’s eyes. “I can’t.”
She tried to take it off, but I covered her hand with mine.
“I’m asking too much of you,” I said. “I know it, but I can’t ask any less. This is the least I can do. Let me do it.”
