I was not on that list.
My first instinct was to refuse the invitation. That urge to latch up my heart flared inside me like an old wound. But I couldn’t be scared. When I didn’t talk to Nalini, I nearly wrecked our friendship. When I didn’t listen to the Serpent King, I nearly destroyed his love.
I was scared to let go—scared to cough up that last bit of control and bare myself—but I was more terrified of what I’d lose if I never spoke up.
“I will be at the coronation,” I said. Briefly, I sucked in my cheeks before flashing a terse smile at the diplomats. “Bharata is grateful for this personal invitation. We look forward to peace between our countries.”
They bowed. I left.
I felt light-headed. Ever since I had returned from Alaka, marriage had hovered over me like a phantom. I heard the unspoken pressure in my council’s demands and noticed the pile of gifts and letters from the eligible nobility. My council spoke of strong ties and advancing our history.
But I knew what I wanted.
I wanted a shadow curled around mine in the night. A hand that was never too far out of reach. I wanted someone who carried a secret light within them, so that I would never be in the dark. When I thought of that, I felt Vikram’s fingers softly threading through my hair. I remembered how the feast of fears left my heart gaunt, how I had offered my own hollow body as a distraction. He hadn’t accepted that. Instead, he had fed my starving heart with bright bursts of laughter and feather-light secrets. Until I ached, not from emptiness, but smiling.
Had he forgotten? Or … had it not mattered?
Aasha opened the door to my bedroom.
“Do you want me to come with you to Ujijain?” she asked.
I nodded. I would have asked Nalini to come too, but she was out of the capital.
“Perhaps you should pick out your attire? That always helped my sisters when they were nervous.”
I nodded, pacing my room. I had brought some of Alaka back with me. The ceiling was painted with songbirds in midflight. Traces of gold foil hugged the paintings, so that when I went to sleep, the world above me was a shimmering thing tilting into magic. When I had it commissioned, I thought it would be a reminder of bonds formed through challenges. But the person I had wanted to remind never ended up spending a night beneath this ceiling.
“Perhaps blue?” suggested Aasha. “You don’t want to steal too much attention from an emperor on his coronation.”
You do like dramatic entrances.
I can’t help myself.
I lifted my chin. “I’m wearing gold.”
Aasha flashed a knowing smile. “As you command.”
48
A WORLD IN WAIT
GAURI
For the next three days, we rode hard. The horses foamed at the mouth when we finally arrived. With only a night left before the coronation, there was no time for the usual political ceremony and veiled talks. My retinue and band of traveling soldiers had little more than a handful of hours to enter the palatial villa that Ujijain had prepared, take refreshments and prepare ourselves for the coronation.
I stood before a gilt mirror. I was moving slower than normal, as if my swollen heart had somehow weighed down my limbs when I wasn’t looking. As I reached for the chest of cosmetics, I thought of Mother Dhina. She had died a month into my imprisonment with Ujijain. A small memorial waited for her spirit in the garden: a shrub of dusky roses with a water pipe buried beneath the roots. I stared at my reflection, biting down on my cheeks as I would for any battle. Contemplating my armor.
I darkened my eyes with kohl. Because sometimes my life felt framed by shadows, and yet I had changed how I looked at the world, and found beauty.
I rubbed a rose petal concoction on my lips and cheeks. Because I wanted my words, fanged as they might be, to wear the cover of sweetness.
I dusted crushed pearls over my collarbones and through my hair. Because I would be my own light. No matter what.
The golden sari clung to my figure, and I had draped the silks to cover my right hand. Before I left, I unclasped Maya’s necklace. The sapphire slid off my neck, leaving me a little colder. I rubbed my fingers over the pendant, kissing it once. Maya cropped up less and less in my thoughts. Not because I didn’t love my sister or didn’t think of her, but because I no longer worried for her the way I once had. Sometimes I remembered a dream from Alaka—a white hall and a cold kingdom, a room where my sister waited with a sad smile. For whatever reason, the image gave me peace.
“I am ready,” I announced to the empty room.
*
Ujijain had beautiful grounds. Not as lovely as Bharata’s, I thought with a prickling sense of pride, but there was something beloved about the place. Ujijain’s grounds celebrated its past and its present. Four statues of beautiful women adorned in the garb of empresses stood in the shade of gentle firs. Sapphire reflection pools lined the walk to the ceremonial pavilion where the coronation would take place. Everywhere, the scent of fresh marigolds and mint hung drowsily in the air. A sliver of gardens peeked out behind a veil of trees.
The crowd for Vikram’s coronation was, as expected, huge. Diplomats and distinguished royal guests had poured in from every corner. Sweat stamped my palms. A nervous energy spiked through me. A servant offered me a quartz goblet and a pang lit up my chest. What were the chances they were serving bright memories?
“Your Majesty, we are so honored you chose to attend,” said a diplomat at my elbow. “Would you mind accompanying me? The Emperor Vikramaditya has some time before the coronation and wished to meet with you alone and without either of your respective retinues.”
We prefer not to have an audience.
I schooled my face into a blank mask. “Lead the way.”
I think I lived and died a hundred times in the time it took to walk to the private garden path. Anger, fury, excitement and hurt raced through me. Every part of me felt gathered and strung taut. I kept imagining the words that would come out of his mouth, his gentle way of saying that Alaka had been an experience out of time that he never wished to repeat. Another thought, worse than anything, clawed at me … that I’d waited too long.
Here, the sounds of the coronation party never reached the trees. Everything was still. Silent.
“His Majesty is at the end of the garden walkway.”
The courtier delivered a final bow before leaving me alone.