“The prince left rather quickly after the burial,” Natesa notes.
“He’s avoiding me.”
“He’s avoiding Deven. Did he tell you about their altercation?”
“No . . .”
Natesa’s lips twist wryly. “Right after we left Iresh, Deven struck Ashwin and nearly threw him overboard.”
Gods help me. As captain of the guard, Deven’s duty is to protect the prince, but he blames Ashwin for unleashing the Voider. The demon came disguised in the physical form of Ashwin’s father and my deceased husband, Rajah Tarek. For releasing him, the Voider must grant Ashwin his heart’s wish—to unseat the bhuta warlord from the Turquoise Palace in our imperial city of Vanhi.
The demon rajah has set out to do just that. He delivered our people from the awful encampments in Iresh, earning their devotion while preying on their suffering. Our army intends to march with the Voider to far-off Vanhi. The rest of Tarek’s wives and his courtesans are trapped there; my friends and fellow sister warriors, held captive by the warlord and his band of rebels. I want to see the ranis released, but the demon rajah cannot be allowed to overthrow the warlord. If he succeeds, he will be free to inflict terror on our world.
“I’ve tried to explain,” I say, “but Deven won’t listen.”
“Maybe he’s right to be angry.” Natesa’s gaze wanders to the river. “Even Brother Shaan feared our fate.”
Unfortunately the loss of Brother Shaan is another tragedy for Deven to blame on the prince. “Ashwin couldn’t have known that the demon would disguise himself as Tarek and convince our people he’s their rajah.”
We round the stern of the boat and nearly bump into the prince. He holds an open book, appearing as he did when we first met. Only, this time, I do not mistake him for his father. Ashwin may possess Tarek’s compelling good looks, but he is kindhearted. From his wounded expression, he overheard our conversation.
“Your Majesty,” Natesa says, bowing. “We didn’t see you there.”
“Clearly.” He snaps his book shut. “I’ll go around.”
He starts to pass, but I loop my arm through his. “Walk with me?”
Ashwin slowly pivots and rubs the side of his head as though massaging a headache. I tug him forward, and Natesa gladly goes, leaving the other direction.
“How have you been?” I ask the prince.
“Well, thank you.” His perfunctory answer quiets me. The clack of my cane on the wooden deck is the only noise between us. I have nearly given up on a conversation when he asks, “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Indah said I should be walking on my own soon.”
He nods but says no more. I long for the easiness we once had between us. In Iresh, while Deven was imprisoned in the military encampment, Ashwin and I learned to trust each other. I still wear the brass wrist cuff he lent me for good luck before my final trial. Ashwin is my cousin and only living family. Dissolving his friendship is a loss I cannot sustain.