Inside the chapel, painters toil on the murals. Their rendition of Ekur, the gods’ mountain temple, is otherworldly. Lush flowering gardens, pillars that hold up the sky, crystal waters bursting with rainbow fish, pristine walkways . . .
“I’ve wished to speak to you alone for a while,” Ashwin says from my side.
“We’ve been preoccupied.”
“We both know it’s more than that.” He tugs nervously at his jacket sleeves. “You’ve been distant.”
“Any closer and your viraji will be displeased.” I nudge him in jest. His solemnity is immovable.
“I worry about you, Kalinda.”
“You needn’t.” I ponder the mural of the land-goddess Ki flanked by sister warriors. Women of all ages carry blades engraved with the five godly virtues. My attention drifts to the shadowed corner of the room. I once thought I belonged with the daughters of Ki. Now I am not so certain.
“Where do you go?” Ashwin asks.
“Hmm?” I say, refocusing on him.
“You haven’t been the same since the evernight came, and I’m not referring to your hand. You’re hardly here. I want to find Deven as much as you do—”
“You couldn’t possibly.” A weight strains against my rib cage. Ashwin is not driven by this urgent throbbing. “I’m glad we had this time together, Ashwin. I need to return to the palace. My art course starts soon.”
“I’ll stay awhile longer,” he says. Our gazes travel across the chapel and reconnect. “Will you move here when it’s finished?”
“The temple is no longer my home.”
“You will always have a home at the palace.” Ashwin holds still in expectation, waiting for me to agree.
I cannot. The Turquoise Palace is home to my worst and best memories. Jaya died and I wed Tarek there. It is also where I witnessed the revival of the sister warriors and Deven and I fell in love. Under Ashwin’s reign, Vanhi will become a home for bhutas and non-bhutas alike. This is the future I envisioned for him, but is it mine? Is happiness tied to a place or person, or can it thrive anywhere?
“Thank you,” I say with a note of finality. “We’ll speak soon.”
I leave Ashwin and go outside.
“I’ll ride back to the palace now,” I tell Yatin. My conversation with Natesa from this morning resurfaces in my mind. “Yatin, if I may, why have you and Natesa postponed your wedding?”
He fiddles with a button on his jacket. “We want all our friends to be in attendance.”
He means Deven. Yatin and Natesa are waiting for something that may never come. Gods, it hurts to admit that. I muster cheerfulness in my reply. “Tell the prince not to work you so hard.”