Indah lays her palm flat on the table, taken aback. “I—I will tell him.”
“Do you know I speak the truth?” I ask, and she nods twice in succession. “Then you know I’ll honor my word. Please, send a healer to Yatin right away.”
“I’ll offer our services, but I cannot guarantee the vizier will accept.”
“I understand and will appreciate any effort you make.”
Indah runs her fingers up and down her water cup and studies me. “Your people in the civilian encampment saw the smoke over the city and asked about the fire. The guards told them you’re a Burner.”
I go still, my chest screwing tight.
“Your people responded . . . unfavorably.” Her voice holds no delight but sympathy. “They threw stones at the rank board to strike down your name.”
Her words wallop me like the stones my people cast. I knew this could happen. Tarek taught them to hate bhutas. Hate me.
But the people loved me. I was their champion.
I was an imposter, a treacherous kindred who murdered their rajah and hid behind the warlord’s insurgence.
I was trying to help. I didn’t mean to hurt them.
The outcome is still the same. They are suffering due to me. Yatin is sick thanks to me. I am fire, razing everything in my path.
I bury my regret and stand to leave. “Please inform me of Yatin’s condition as soon as you hear.”
“You’ve made the right decision.” Indah boosts her assurance with a taut smile. “This is best for all our people.”
I am no longer in the position to determine what is good for anyone. I have been wrong too many times. It would be arrogant of me to assume I can watch over the Zhaleh as well as four Virtue Guards. The book is better off in Lestari, far away from me.
Prince Ashwin is not in his chamber, but Opal rests on the lounge. I dismiss Rohan to finish his supper and settle in to wait for the prince’s return. Books are still scattered about Ashwin’s room, piled on every surface. I scan the religious texts and notice Enlil’s Hundredth Rani among them. A shiver runs down me, as I think of Tarek’s belief that I am Enlil’s rani reincarnated. With the revelation of my powers, I doubt our people believe I am the dead favored queen now.
I turn my attention to Opal. “When will the prince return?”
“I don’t know,” she says, sitting up and stretching from her nap. “He’s gone to request more aid for the encampments, but after today . . .” I grimace and slide my gaze away from her. “Kindred, the dock fire wasn’t your fault.”
The people of Iresh don’t think so.
“Please don’t call me kindred,” I answer softly.
Opal sighs at my back.
Ashwin comes inside and slams the door hard. “Opal, find Brother Shaan and—” He notices me, and his whole body slumps, shedding his anger. “Kalinda, I didn’t know you were here.”
“May I have a word, Your Majesty?”
His chin ticks sideways at my use of his formal title. “Of course. Opal, you’re excused.”
I wait for Opal to leave and close the door before I speak. “Why didn’t you tell me the illness has spread to the military encampment?”
“I heard about it upon our return from the river and went to the sultan straightaway. I waited two hours for a ninety-second meeting with him.” Ashwin runs a frustrated hand through his disheveled hair; he looks as though he has been doing that for hours. “Kuval refuses to increase his aid. All of his help is going to the ailing civilians. He thought that’s what I’d want.”
“Is it?”
“I wish I knew.” Ashwin unbuttons his jacket with swift jerks. “The Galers’ constant wind wards off the mosquitoes, but people are still falling ill. The death toll has risen to fifty. Children are among them.” He removes his tunic jacket, revealing a thin undershirt, and tosses it onto the bed. The jacket slides off and falls to the floor in a heap. Ashwin grips the back of a chair to steady himself. “The sultan told me he closed his border to more refugees. He says our people are safer there, but they’re my responsibility.”
I share his dissatisfaction. I hate not knowing if Brac and Mathura are all right. “Indah told me. She also said the people know I’m a Burner. They reacted as I feared.”
His voice softens some. “They’ll come around once you win the tournament.”
I find no deception in his reassurance. He believes the people will adore me, or perhaps he cannot comprehend how they could not adore me.
I pick up his jacket from the floor and hold it close. “You’re already more a rajah than Tarek ever was.”
“You will make me a better one.” Ashwin steps to me and lays his fingers over my almost-faded rank mark on my hand. “You give me the strength to stand up for myself and our empire.”
Knowing it is dangerous to hope, I push out my squeaky voice. “Did you mean what you said on the dock about setting me free?”
“You’ve been free since Rajah Tarek died.” Ashwin squares himself to me, his stare insistent. “I spent my childhood trapped in one room; I will not trap one person to me for the rest of her life.” His finger strokes mine. “I ask the gods every day why I was born into this disaster. I didn’t choose this fate either, Kalinda.”
“Rajah Tarek—”
“Chose you out of hundreds of temple wards. He could have had anyone for his final rani, but he saw something in you. Tarek may have been flawed, but in this he was completely inspired.” Ashwin’s gaze meanders over my face, savoring every feature. “All I ask is that when you look at me, you see me not Tarek.”
“I do see you, but there’s more to consider.”
“You mean love,” he replies, lowering his forehead nearer to mine. His velvety-brown eyes engulf my sight. “I have no experience with women, so I cannot convince you that my affection is real. But I can say that we will rule as equals and achieve great good together. Promise me you’ll think about it.”
His lips hover over mine, taking nothing. He has given me a choice—more than I have ever had—but everything I do leaves a ripple. I cannot tiptoe across the pond of life without leaving huge, life-changing wakes. I must stop thinking of what was or what I hoped would be. Deven let me go. I should quit holding on to something that no longer exists.
I have been running since I left Vanhi, running from Hastin, from Anjali, from my mistakes. My time running stops now.
“I promise,” I say.
Warmth fills Ashwin’s expression. He turns his head and brushes his lips against my cheek, a whisper of a caress. “I understand your heart won’t change overnight, so, for now, consider what’s best for the empire.” Fervent intent coarsens his voice. “I will do anything for the good of my people.”
A scalding tremor skitters down my spine. Ashwin’s fervor reminds me of Tarek’s. I am uncertain which is more troubling: my nightmares of Tarek or the part of him that I discern in his son.
23
DEVEN