“Sparring.” Anjali twirls her sword with a swaggering smile. “Kalinda invited me.”
“The rajah would be very put out if you killed his viraji when no one was watching.” Lakia’s tone borders on contemptuous. “Go back to the courtesans’ wing, where you belong.”
Anjali replaces her weapon on the rack and shoots me a smirk. “See you in the arena.”
Lakia paces toward me. “That’s a unique pair of daggers.” She lifts my arm to hold one up to the moonlight. I compose my features, refusing to shy away. Her guard watches from behind her, though I doubt that he will step in to defend me. “Where did you get them?”
“They were a gift.”
“They were Yasmin’s.” Lakia’s gaze narrows. “I have not seen them since my sister tried to run away.”
“You were there?”
“I warned Tarek of Yasmin’s treachery. She was running off with his heir.”
I wrench my arm from her grasp. “You betrayed your sister.”
Lakia reaches down her side, over the bulge of a hidden knife. “No one is loyal to their sisters here.”
“What reason do they have, with you as their leader, sabotaging them from within?”
Lakia hisses like the asp she planted in my bed. I see a flash of silver by her thigh and sink into my fighting stance. She raises her knife to my throat. I tighten down on the daggers in my hands, but they might as well be empty. She could drive her blade into my jugular before I could lift them.
Her dark eyes flatten to pools of endless nothing. “I will sleep better knowing you are dead.”
“Kindred, you found her.”
Lakia looks at Deven entering the patio. He and her guard rest their hands on the hilts of their swords. A game of intimidation. Lakia sneers and lowers her knife. I keep mine firm in my grip and start toward Deven on tottery legs.
Lakia blocks me. “I will find out what you were doing tonight. There are no secrets here.”
It takes all of my self-control to harness my fear. I level her with a chilly stare and then skirt around her, calling back over my shoulder, “The palace may have a shortage of sisterhood, but it has an endless supply of secrets.”
26
Manas turns rigid when he sees Deven and me approach him outside my chamber door.
“I thought you were off duty,” I say.
“I thought you were in the chapel,” Manas rejoins.
“Soldier,” Deven warns, “may I remind you that this is the viraji?”
Manas faces his commander. “No, sir. Do you need to be reminded?”
A vein in Deven’s forehead bulges. “You’re excused from your post until further notice.”
Manas recoils with a hurt expression. He must be confused by his captain’s behavior. I rise to his aid. “Captain, he is only concerned—”
“Viraji,” Manas says sharply, and then he bows and marches away.
“Good gods, he’s mad,” I say, watching him turn the corner. Deven and I go inside my chamber, my head pulsing with every footstep.
“That imperial guard uniform has gone to his head.” Deven sighs at his own aggravation. “Manas is tired. I’ve been overworking him.”
“Do you think he knows we left the palace?”
“I doubt it, but we have to be more careful. Manas owes everything to the rajah. He will not stay silent if he believes we have wronged him.” Deven helps me lie down on my bed and rearranges the pillows behind me. The linens smell of sunshine and lavender. “This arrangement is for the best. Manas can get the rest he needs, and I will reassign Yatin to guard Natesa in the courtesans’ wing. While they are gone, I will look for the book.”
My gaze swings to him. “You’re going to look for the Zhaleh?”
He takes off his turban and lies down facing me. “Once I find it, we can negotiate for Hastin to help you leave the city.”
Leave Vanhi? That would mean no battle match, no wedding, no risk of the Voider being released . . . I stop before my hopes rise too high. “How will you do in two days what Hastin hasn’t done in nineteen years?”
“I have greater motivation than Hastin.” Deven takes my hand in his. “I want to be with you, Kali. Ever since I saw you eavesdropping in the temple, I’ve wanted you for myself.”
His deep voice eases through me like a sweet ache. This is everything I have wanted to hear. “But earlier tonight, you said—”
“I was trying to do what I thought was best. Everything has changed now. You are”—I cringe inwardly, waiting for him to say a demon, evil, a dirty bhuta—“remarkable. I will never meet anyone like you.”
“You don’t mind that I’m a Burner?”
Deven looks down at my hand, inspecting every line and curve of my palm. The low lamplight brushes the side of his face, warming it with a golden shadow. “I have known Brac is a bhuta all my life. I thought I was saving him pain by not acknowledging who he is, but when he needed me most, I turned my back on him. I won’t make the same mistake with you.” He lifts my hand to his cheek. “You would be a fine rani, but you have another choice. I want to leave together. We can go back up the Alpanas and hide. We can make our own fates.”
A tepid breeze carries in from the balcony, ushering with it the hushed rustle of palm fronds. I lean in closer to him. “Of course, Jaya would come too,” he adds.
My smile blooms. He knows that I would not go without Jaya, but there are others to think of. “What about your mother and the rest of the courtesans?”
Deven kisses my fingertips, and my heartbeat quickens. “The bhutas will free them once we find the book. By then, we will be on our way.” He presses his lips to a tender spot on my palm, and my mind turns fuzzy. “I will build us a modest cottage with a prayer alcove. Outside, we will have a meditation pond—”
“And a garden for Jaya to grow flowers.”
Deven smiles and kisses my pulse hammering at my wrist. “We will have fields and fields of greenery for our sheep, and a watering hole to swim in. I will build a fire every night for you to sketch by, and we will decorate the walls with your art. When we go out at night, we will look for the Samiya beacon in the distance.”
He has drawn a better image with his words than I could sketch. I can see Jaya trimming her flowers and Deven watching over our sheep. I can imagine warm meals by the fire and the Alpanas standing guard over us, keeping everyone else out and our peace in. I am tempted to escape into the life he has built, a promise of happiness waiting for us to jump into. I could leave here and never look back, but I do not know that Deven could.
I brush my fingers through his soft hair. “You would give up being a soldier? It’s your fate.”
“It is one fate. Being a guard for the empire is an honorable destiny, but more honorable would be to share my life with you. During the Razing, I almost lost you . . .” His voice clogs. “I cannot . . . I cannot let you go.”