My engagement gift has become a gilded cage. For two days, I have respected the captain’s request to distance myself from his men, but I cannot stand to be locked inside this carriage with Natesa any longer. While she reads away the hours, her knife hidden the gods only know where, I agonize over how she plans to defeat me in the arena—slit my throat, gut my belly, stab me in the spine. Whatever method she chooses, it will not be merciful. I have to get away from her.
After we make camp at the end of the day, I gather my sketchbook. “I’m stepping out.”
She lifts her gaze from her reading. “Going to make eyes at the captain again?”
“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I need to relieve myself.”
“Are you planning to pee on your sketchbook?”
I glower at her and step out under the mild night sky. The soldiers gather around a campfire, finishing supper. Deven’s back is to me. None of them notice me as I sit on the carriage footrail and open my sketchbook. The glow of the campfire reaches my page, and fresh air frees my mind. I touch my charcoal to paper, and my hand flies with ease.
The water-goddess takes shape. Enki hovers over the sea, her wavy, dark hair swathing her body like cascading water. She wears a shell necklace and a short skirt, and she wields a staff with three prongs at the top. Her slim waist curves out to full hips, balanced by strong shoulders and legs powerful enough to withstand any tide. Enki exudes sexuality and strength. She is as steadfast as the moon and would not be threatened by Natesa.
“Are you ready to turn in?”
I look up to find Deven standing over me. Time has slid through my fingers. No one remains at the fire. Everyone else has gone to bed.
Deven sits beside me on the carriage footrail. “Enki, the water-goddess.”
“You know the gods?”
“Very well. I studied the Parijana faith with the brethren for a time.”
I gape at him. The brethren oversee the Sisterhood temples and provide new wards to bring up for the Claiming. They have no equivalent rite; only girls are reared for that ceremony. Their temples are where general congregations worship. Like the Sisterhood, serving in the Brotherhood is a lifelong calling. I have never met a member of the brethren, let alone someone who renounced his duties.
“Did you swear an oath of celibacy?” I say.
Deven’s lips lift slightly. “Yes, but my vow was negated when I left.”
I flush, realizing I have asked another improper question. “How did you come to be a soldier?”
“My mother is a courtesan, and my father is a benefactor. For bastards like me, it’s either the army or the Brotherhood. I thought I would spend my life with the brethren. They were my place of peace. But the gods had a different path for me.”
A lump forms in my windpipe.
“You understand what I speak of, Kalinda.”
He says my name in three pieces, Ka-lin-da, each syllable as precious as the last.
I do understand. The path the gods have set forth for me is vastly different than the one I want. “Do you begrudge the life you’ve been led into?” I say.
“I fought becoming a soldier. My father is an army officer, a hard man who respects little other than his own importance. I thought I could hide from the part of me that stems from him, but being in the Brotherhood taught me to accept my path. I wanted to be a soldier more than I was afraid of becoming my father. Being like him was never my fate.”
I envy his certainty. “I thought I knew what my fate would be, but now . . .”
Deven’s knee rests against mine. I stop myself from pulling away, allowing the small comfort. “Was it not fate,” he says, “when you stepped in to help your friend during skill trials?”
“Maybe.” If protecting Jaya is what led the rajah to claim me, I would do so again with no regret. But I cannot say if that was fate.
Deven watches me quietly. The sisters are nurturers and teachers, whereas the brethren are patient counselors and protectors of the Parijana doctrine. Deven would have done well serving in the Brotherhood.
His knowledge of the gods has reopened a side of myself that I thought that I had left behind. I have only been this open about my faith with Jaya. I even hid this part of my heart from Healer Baka, afraid that she would lecture me on godly virtues. But Deven understands what it is to sacrifice his will and adjust his course to align with the gods’.
I glance at our connected knees. “If you had the choice, would you have stayed with the brethren?”
“The army has its challenges. I travel too often to keep a home, but the soldiers are my brothers. I would still choose to be with them. And I would still be here with you.”
His smile spreads through me like a cozy ache. I wait for him to move away, but he stays, touching me. I drink in his sandalwood scent, mesmerized by his eyes glowing softly against the night. I wonder if he would pull back if I traced the stubble on his jaw . . .
I drop my chin and bite my lower lip. My thoughts are disgraceful. I am wrong to fuel my desires with impossible wants. These stirrings belong to my intended. I am tempting punishment by thinking of Deven in this way.
I start to stand, and my sketchbook falls off my lap. Deven picks it up and offers it to me. I close my hand over my book, and our fingers brush. He turns toward me, and our knees reconnect, securing us together.
“You are exactly where the gods intend you to be, Kalinda.”
The gentle way he says my name sends warmth to my belly. His complexity intrigues me. His outer layer is hard, like a warrior, but inside he is a man of faith. “No one told me a man could be like you,” I say.
His lips quirk. “You mean ‘very handsome’?”
I blush, hearing him use my words from the first night. “I’m a dolt,” I say. “I cannot understand why the rajah claimed me.”
Deven suddenly goes expressionless. “I trust the rajah has his reasons. It isn’t our place to question His Majesty.” He stands and bows with wooden joints. “Morning will come quickly. Good night, Viraji.”
I frown, seeking Deven’s face for what I did to merit his dismissal. Finding only a hardened shell, I leave him alone with the stars.
8
Natesa and I endure the next five days of incessant rainfall boxed inside the carriage. Our guards have grown quiet, the drizzle dampening their moods.
Soon after we break camp on the sixth morning of stormy skies, the carriage jolts to a halt. Manas opens the door and asks us to step out. A rock has torn away from the sodden hillside and sideswiped the carriage. Natesa and I enter the rain and watch the soldiers repair broken wheel spokes. My face warms as we wait. I have yet to swallow my daily tonic, and my vials are hidden in my satchel inside the carriage.