He relaxed. “See, I knew you could be reasonable?—”
“I’m not finished,” she snapped, her tone hard and icy. “In exchange for this, not only will you send Richard to Welkland, but you will also support me at the hearing next week, when we settle on a successor. If you renege on your word, I will reveal Richard’s involvement to everyone. There won’t be a soul on this island who won’t know what he did. Are we clear?”
“No one will believe you.”
“Perhaps not.” Demetria gave him an ice-cold smile. “But they will believe me.”
Lord Montrose stared at them both, then narrowed his gaze at Poppy. “How callous you are, using your father’s death as collateral in your quest for control.”
“I wouldn’t have to bargain like this at all if your son hadn’t murdered him in his own pursuit of power,” she retorted. “Do we understand each other or not, Lord Montrose?”
He glared at Poppy, but she refused to wither. Finally, he spat out, “We are in agreement. I will see you both at the funeral.”
Demetria and Poppy rose, forcing him to stand too. Neither woman volunteered to see him out. When he had left the room, Poppy collapsed back onto the couch, pressed a throw pillow to her face, and screamed.
She had made the best of the situation, scraping out a win in a scenario where loss was inevitable. But Richard would go free, and she would never forget it.
• • •
“Are you sure you know what you’re signing up for?” Harithi hissed.
The two of them sat in Arun’s cramped sitting room while he prepared chai in the kitchen. After the celebrations?—and their hangovers?—had subsided, Hasan and Arun had drawn up plans for a delegation, one that would represent the interests of the common people and coordinate demonstrations around the city. Arun already had experience with this, having been a labor rights advocate for years. Today, they aimed to recruit Arun’s people to their cause.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hasan whispered back. “Wasn’t it you who said we should be giving more importance to our vasudhakt gang members?”
“I meant that about our gang activity,” she said. “This is politics. This is a game that we don’t know how to play.”
“Well, we’re going to have to learn”?—he gritted his teeth?—“because if we don’t, then we’ll never be free.”
A knock on the door interrupted whatever Harithi was going to say next.
“I’ll get it,” Arun called. He brought the chai into the living room, putting the pot down on the coffee table before answering the door. A small group filed into the house, four in all.
“What’s this about?” one asked.
“Sit, please.” Arun gestured toward the living room. The newcomers froze when they saw Hasan and Harithi already there.
“Arun, do you know who that is?” one of the men asked, eyes flashing in warning.
“This is my friend, Hasan.” Arun smiled pointedly. “Hasan, these are my friends, Tara, Maya, Akash, and Niraj.”
Akash scoffed, thick brows lifting. “No, that’s the Jackal.”
“Both of these things can be true,” Arun replied. “The Jackal is my friend, and I hope you can all keep your minds open enough to allow him to be your friend too.”
“What’s this about, Arun?” Maya’s gaze never left Hasan. “Why did you call us here?”
He raised his arms. “As you know, the succession to the viceroy’s office is still undecided. We’ve all heard rumors that Poppy Sutherland has been rallying for the seat, but Hasan knows her personally and has confirmed this to be true. He and I both believe that she is our best chance at a better life.”
“We’ve talked about this, Arun.” Niraj sighed. “You yourself have said it?—how can she empathize with us when she’s never lived among us?”
“You don’t have to have the same experience as someone to feel for them, only the desire to understand,” Arun said. “After meeting Hasan that first night, I spoke to some of the laborers in Sanivali. Poppywasthere, earlier this month, learning about their struggles. Clearly, she cares.”
“I also heard word from Sanivali,” Tara said. “I have a cousin there. Is it true that Poppy is daivyakt?”
“It is,” Hasan said. Seeing the way her face soured, he asked, “What? How can her being gods-blessed possibly be a negative thing?”
Niraj grimaced. “Perhaps we remember the age of daivyakt rulers differently. The maharajas used their power to extort vasudhakt, withholding aid from poorer regions who could not pay the taxes. Their wars ravaged landscapes and destroyed homes. Their obsession with blood purity and hoarding power barred vasudhakt from entering entire sections of cities. Is it so unreasonable, then, that we do not wish to return to an era like that?”
