Brac rolls down his sleeves. “She’ll walk again.”
“The breaks were clean,” Indah explains, carrying an empty pitcher. Asha assisted her, coming back and forth from the infirmary to refill it with healing waters six times over the course of the night. “I was able to knit her bones. She shouldn’t stand for a while, but she’ll recover. You should try to sleep.”
I nod and nod, grappling with my regrets over yesterday. Catching up on sleep is the furthest concern from my mind.
Indah uses her quiet voice that she usually reserves for patients. “Ashwin, the infirmary is out of sleeping tonic, but you can follow me to my chamber and I can give you some of ours. Jala is still being fussy. A tiny drop in her water helps us all.”
“No need,” I say. “You go on and rest.”
“Both of you take care.” Indah pats Brac’s cheek affectionately and goes.
My ambassador slumps against the wall. “That accident never should have happened. I should have been with the girls.”
“I’m not sure you could have prevented this.” I lean my shoulder by the door. “Please tell me you uncovered who Commander Lokesh is working for.”
Brac pushes his lips side to side. “He was held in the military refugee camp for a while. Then he rallied with the demon rajah and marched on Vanhi. His mother fell ill, and she died as he was bringing her back.”
Bhuta guards oversaw the military refugee camp. “Perhaps that’s where the commander’s dislike for bhutas comes from.”
“Many of our soldiers were in that camp and stayed on,” Brac answers shortly, irritated with our lack of progress. “Lokesh does his business in the early morning. The night before last, he met with someone. I got close enough to listen, but they were writing notes back and forth to each other to avoid Galers eavesdropping.”
“Was it his employer?”
“They did not exchange payment. When I tried to follow his associate, he vanished.” Frustration rebounds in Brac’s tone. “One second he was there, the next he was gone.”
“What did he look like?”
“You aren’t going to believe me.” He rubs at his mouth.
“I’ll try.”
“He looked like my brother.”
I stare into Brac’s red-rimmed eyes. Why would Deven meet with Lokesh? How did he meet with him? “That’s not possible. Night before last, Deven visited me. I saw him enter and leave Kali’s chamber.”
Brac pinches the bridge of his nose to fight off a headache. “I know what I saw, but I . . . I don’t know what I saw.”
His confusion about Lokesh spreads to me. Deven would never conspire with Lokesh, but I also trust Brac. He believes he saw his brother.
Yatin jogs down the corridor. He has also been up all night. “Sir, someone snuck out of the palace grounds.” My neck stretches in alarm. “We’ve been monitoring the gates. The one by the elephant stables was opened. The footprints were smudged, but we think it was a soldier.”
Brac slams his fist against the wall. The bang is extra loud in the morning quiet. “Lokesh has an ally inside the palace.”
I rake at my hair, which already stands on end from repeated tousling. We still know too little about the renegade commander. Every day the possibilities become more dangerous.
“Sir, perhaps you should delay your wedding,” Yatin suggests. A day’s worth of stubble covers his jaw. I do not comment on his uncomely appearance. Brac and I are not pictures of respectability either. “We can postpone your nuptials and post an announcement to appease the people.”
“No.” I will not be bullied into risking our ties with the Southern Isles. “Datu Bulan will arrive in two days. My wedding celebrations begin in three days. We must bring Vanhi under rule. Increase the soldiers in the city. Assign a man to every corner.”
“Ashwin,” Brac says tiredly, “the commander won’t be pressured.”
“We’re past coercion. Yatin, summon Commander Lokesh. I’ll see him at noon without you, Brac.” I clasp the Burner’s shoulder. “I have to establish that I can lead without bhuta allies.”
“Lokesh wishes to separate you from your allies. Be careful that you don’t give him what he wants.” Brac yanks from my grasp and stalks away.
Yatin’s gaze hops from my ambassador to me. He wants to follow his friend, so I excuse him. He rushes after Brac, leaving me alone in the empty corridor. Lords, I wish Kalinda and Deven were here.
By the time I return to my chambers to wash up, I am wide awake. Someone in the palace could be aiding Lokesh. A new soldier or guard doubling as his informant? A defector he planted in our ranks?
While I comb my hair, the thought of a spy sneaking about nags at me. I could confer with Gemi. She knows just what to say to focus my thoughts, but after yesterday, I doubt she wants much to do with me.
I open my dressing cabinet and groan. Natesa has been here again. She added more tailored tunic jackets and fitted trousers to my wardrobe and snatched the last pair of loose pants that I had stashed at the back.
Gemi stomps into my chamber and draws up short. Her face flames at the sight of my bare chest. I look over the wardrobe door at her.
“You could knock,” I say.
“I’m too angry.”
Her accent is stronger when she is upset. I turn around to pick out an ivory tunic, and she crosses to me.
“Who did this?” she asks, touching a scar on my back.
“Tarek whipped me for disobeying him.”
Gemi traces the raised white marks. “Do they hurt?”
“Not anymore.”
“I cannot imagine a father doing this to his child.” Gemi’s gaze loiters around the room. She halts on a portrait of Rajah Tarek and Kindred Lakia, the only one left of my parents. “Everyone says you look like him, but I think you look more like your mother.” She runs her palm over my shoulder. The sensation untenses my muscles.
“I thought you were angry.”
She slides her satiny touch down and toys with my fingers. “Brac said you summoned Commander Lokesh and you don’t want bhutas present.”
“This isn’t a matter of not wanting you there. The people believe I rely too heavily on my bhuta guards. I must set a precedent that I can stand on my own.”
Gemi slings her arms over my shoulders. Her short silk blouse presses against my chest, her warm skin radiating through the thin cloth. “You can rely on me.”
I drop my tunic to the floor and hold her. She smells of lavender and rose hips. The rash along her elbows has nearly healed. “Trust me to manage Lokesh.”
“I do, but that doesn’t mean you have to confront anyone alone.” Her gaze lowers to my mouth and lingers there. My viraji makes me feel seen, not as a prince but as a person. “Eshana and Shyla are fascinated by your ‘fancy hair and plum lips.’ They talk about you incessantly. I’m tired of listening to them go on about your splendid features.”
“You don’t think they’re splendid?”
“They are. Maddeningly so. Shouldn’t you have one flaw?”
“You’ve seen my back.”
Her touch slides over my scars, leaving a wake of gooseflesh. “It’s perfect too.”
She tucks in closer, sealing the gap between us. I mold my palms to her hips. Hunger collects in my mouth, building . . . building. She dips her nose near mine, a breath away from a kiss.
“Are you in love with Kalinda?” she whispers.
“What? No. That’s long over.” I squeeze my viraji against me, locking her pounding heart against my chest. “She’s the one who suggested you and I wed.”
Gemi angles back. “This was her idea?”
I continue to embrace her, certain she will understand. “At first. I wrote you weeks later after I determined this would be advantageous for the empire.” Gemi pushes from my grasp. “I . . . I said that wrong.”
“I think you said it right. You just don’t like how it makes you sound.” Her fingers curl into fists. A vibration carries up through the floor and a vase trembles on the bedside table. “Did I secure my throne by default?”