“I’m sorry. I was wrong,” I tell him.
He drops his head, removing me from his sight. “You think I take after Tarek and have no heart to break.”
“No,” I answer without hesitation. “I meant it when I said you’re not like him.”
Ashwin’s voice rises with his gaze, both sharp and direct. “Yet you don’t trust me. You still see him in me.”
I flounder to reassure him. I cannot deny that I have seen portions of Tarek in Ashwin, attributes of an ironhanded ruler that unnerve me. If Ashwin looked like someone else, if he was anyone else’s son, I would have been more apt to trust him.
His intense stare brightens with pain. “I didn’t love my father, but I was foolish enough to love you.”
I stretch out my hand to console him, but he pulls away and leaves, slamming the door. The echo of his angry parting lands heavy on my heart. I huddle my knees into my chest, cursing myself. Ashwin is innocent of Tarek’s actions, yet I cannot work out how to separate the two.
Natesa edges in from her antechamber. “Is everything all right? I heard Prince Ashwin leave. He sounded upset.”
I rest my chin on my knees, hugging them closer. “Ashwin offered to take me as his second wife. I told him I killed Tarek.”
“That’s an interesting answer to a marriage proposal.” Natesa comes over and lies beside me on the bed, covering her legs with the blanket. “Do you want to wed Ashwin?”
“No . . . Maybe . . . I don’t know. I want my throne.” I groan at my indecisiveness. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Natesa contemplates my answer, the cozy ping of rainfall seeping in through the windows. “I used to wonder what it would’ve been like if I had been claimed as Rajah Tarek’s rani instead of you, but the throne was always yours.”
The gods intended that I be a rani, of that I am finally certain, but it infuriates me that they handpicked me to be the instigator of so much anguish. “I was the empire’s downfall.”
“You were our awakening.” Natesa props on her side and captures me with her stare. “The empire was in a downward spiral. Rajah Tarek’s rule was hanging by a thread. Whatever horrors follow you, you aren’t responsible for his actions.”
Her praise compounds my guilt. Neither is Ashwin. I hid the truth from Ashwin to protect myself, so our people would continue to believe that I was above Tarek’s influence. But I am not untainted by Tarek. I am not wholly innocent in the dire state of the empire. And I cannot repair my mistakes that led to the collapse of Vanhi without Ashwin.
Natesa rolls onto her back and gazes up at the ceiling. “Priestess Mita used to say that the sky has two faces, day and night. But the night doesn’t actually rule. Only when the sun turns its back on the world does night appear. You are light, Kalinda. You cannot turn your back on your godly purpose. Whatever choices you made, you made them with approval from the gods.” She grips my hand in hers. “The sun may not be shining yet, but dawn’s first ray is coming.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Natesa sends me a wry smile. “Isn’t our friendship proof enough of miracles?”
I snort a laugh and enfold her in my arms. “You’re a good friend.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“Neither did I,” I say, pressing my cheek to hers. Natesa’s face squishes in aversion at my affection, and I hug her harder. She half-heartedly pats my back in return, drawing another laugh from me.
The door opens, and Indah enters with Pons. Upon seeing Natesa and me together in a private moment, Indah pulls up short. “Should we come back?” she asks.
“No, come in.” I am still in my robe, but I am past worrying about indecency. I am more concerned about how Indah is recovering. I climb out of bed and meet them in the sitting area. Pons helps Indah limp to the lounge. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m well, but it’ll be some time before I can walk unassisted.” Indah leans back in her seat, Pons standing behind her. “My people informed me that there was some confusion as to the rules of today’s trial. I specifically recall Sultan Kuval saying we needed to deliver our package at the gate. He said nothing about us going through. After speaking with him, he has agreed that you finished before me. You’re back in the tournament.”
“What?” Natesa and I say in chorus.
“It wasn’t without persuasion,” Indah says, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Datu Bulan has allowed the Janardanians to fish in the southern seas at no expenditure. Sultan Kuval doesn’t want to jeopardize their arrangement.”
“I—I don’t know what to say,” I stutter out. “You gave up your place in the arena?”
“It wasn’t really mine to begin with. You beat me to the gate. Pons and I wouldn’t have made it out without you. We thank you for that.” Indah beams up at her guard. Affection radiates between them, dazzling and whole.
They’re in love. How did I miss seeing it before? The familiar way they speak to each other, their shared smiles, their intimate supper last night . . . It is so obvious now.
“Thank you,” I say, my heart tugging in envy at their closeness. I wish I had a simple answer for what comes next. I may not feel for Ashwin the way I do for Deven, but if I win tomorrow, Ashwin will be rajah. And I will still be rani.
Indah shrugs off her good deed. “I may have done you a disservice. Citra was furious that her father admitted you back into the tournament. Her anger will bolster her hunger to win.”
I nod, trusting Indah’s caution. “Did you tell Ashwin?”
“I passed him in the corridor and notified him of the change.” I observe her for an indication of his reaction. Was he glad to hear I will remain in the tournament? Indah’s intuitive gaze intensifies on me, reading my insecurity. “He seemed distracted but pleased. He’s worried about you. He was uncertain if you’d still wish to compete.”
Ashwin is worried about whether or not I am willing to continue? I hurt him, and his concern is for me.
He is nothing like Tarek, nothing at all.
“I do,” I promise.
“You better be certain,” Indah says. “Because the people of the Southern Isles are also counting on you to defend your throne—and win.”
27
DEVEN
Someone kicks me in the side.
“Get up,” says a gruff voice.
I turn over on my bedroll, away from the guard’s feet. “Meathead.”
“What did you say?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I mutter.
The guard rounds back to kick me again. I roll out of the way onto my knees and then push off the floor. Manas is awake and gone, as are the other men I bunk with.
“Is Yatin all right?” I ask. “Did he ask for me?”
“He’s alive. Now move.”
The guard prods me out of the tent and into the first rays of dawn. The rain clouds have cleared, and the stuffy morning air sticks to my skin. The whole of camp has been woken. I follow the line of men to the quad. The rank board on the dusky hillside has been altered, but I question my vision in the grainy light. Kali’s name has been added to the board again, and Indah of Lestari’s name is missing.