“All right,” she says.
We begin down the stairs, a descent into another world. I’m unsure how to break the silence. Should I say something about the street incident or maybe inquire after her health? I go with something simple and significant. “So, I never did learn your name.”
She hesitates and not in the timid, five-second kind of way. I undergo a solid brick of silent calculation. I am talking ten cold hard steps that clack against the stone.
She finally relents. “It’s Jaya.”
Victory wells up from my stomach for a split second before her counterattack lands. “Yours?” she asks.
I hadn’t even thought…“Kalyan,” I supply, and twist to offer her my forearm. I should have told her who I really am, but I can’t. I can’t give up the facade just yet. She hesitates for half a second, then presses her right arm against mine, Touch to Touch. And there, within the ultimate sign of respect and equality, the lie seals itself.
Too late I realize how sweaty and dirty I am, how I might have ruined her brocaded sleeve. She looks down at her arm and I want to die.
“Sorry, I’ve been training….”
“What? Oh no, you’re fine.” She doesn’t wipe her arm on her skirt and I’m so thankful. Two more stairs of awkwardness.
“So, what are you doing here, Jaya?” I hope that sounds casual, not desperate. She squints at me as if I’m a servant who spoke out of place. Guess I kind of am in her eyes, but what about her? What does she do to warrant a private audience with my father?
“Some business for Lady Adraa.”
So Adraa wasn’t coming. She had sent the girl who had discovered the problem instead. But does that mean Adraa is avoiding me? I need answers.
“So you work for her?”
“Well, yes.” Jaya pauses. “I’m practically family.”
Three more steps. I’m running out of steps.
“You don’t need to look so concerned,” she says. “I mean, I have already been cleared entrance; I’ve already had ample time to kill Maharaja Naupure if that were my intention and now I’m leaving.” She gestures toward the ice door, which lies ahead.
What the blood?“Implying murder and treason isn’t exactly reassuring.”
“Sorry, that came out wrong.”
“You implied—”
“I’m a friend to Maharaja Naupure, a good friend.”
Good friend? Private audience?My brain clangs. Oh Gods, could this girl, this girl who must be my age or younger, be sleeping with my father? Sudden rage snaps behind my eyes. No. It’s been ages since Mother died and normally I would be disgusted at the notion of Father eliciting young commoners into his bed, but not her. Not her!
“Good Gods, now you think I’m sleeping with your maharaja.” She rubs her temples.
Is sheadmittingit?
She waves one hand at me. “I’m not,” she practically yells.
We have both stopped right outside the staircase’s mouth. For the first time since the street incident I look into those fiery brown eyes. Without dirt on her face I can better see the fierceness in her features. We are almost the exact same height. That spurs a fluttery lightness in my chest. We are eye to eye, which somehow grants us equal footing and intimacy.
She breaks the gaze and walks forward. “I’m not,” she says more evenly, staring straight ahead. Relief wants to restart my heart, and I let it; I believe her. Why am I jumping to such wild conclusions about this girl? I jog to catch up with her.
“I’m sorry if I insulted you in any way.”
She meets my eyes. “Let’s restart. I’m just a girl who is not a murderer or a mistress.”
“Same.” I smile at her and she laughs. And with that, I feel powerful. We walk the last few steps to the ice door. I don’t want to let her go, but I also don’t want our conversation to erupt into awkwardness or horrible implication again. She touches the door, something I’ve never seen anyone do before. But that was nine years ago, a lifetime. Maybe this has become a thing.
“I love this door. It’s marvelous, isn’t it?” she says. I used to love it too, probably the reason I spent most of my time on white magic. Now, all I can think is that I had to walk out of it a decade ago.
