The Warrior Queen(18)

“Kali, we heard some news,” Eshana says, her tone overly conspicuous. “Shyla told Parisa, who told me, that you went riding in the city with the prince yesterday. Have you changed your mind about marrying him?”

The table of women goes quiet. I finish chewing and articulate my response. “No. Ashwin and I are friends.”

Eshana bats her eyelashes in confusion. “You’ll wed again, won’t you, Kali?”

Asha observes our exchange without commenting. She must suspect Deven may not be entirely gone. When she is not training with Healer Baka in the infirmary, she assists me. She has tidied my chamber and left heaping trays of food too often not to have poked around for answers. I have none to give, and what explanations I do have are worrisome.

“I should go,” I say, taking my fried bread with me. My friends put up a fuss, but I pull from their grasps.

“Give her time,” Eshana whispers loudly to the others. “She’s still mourning General Naik. Eventually she’ll move on.”

I speed off, blinking back tears. They know nothing. Their biggest concern is winning over Ashwin. They sit in their silk and jewels, surrounded by mountains of food, oblivious to true heartache.

Deven didn’t come last night. Why didn’t he—?

I bump into Shyla at the door. She shuffles back.

“Kali, are you crying?”

Tears sting my nose. They want out badly. I consider telling her everything, but when words are not spoken, they create a divide that cannot be crossed without causing hurt. “Have you seen Deven?”

“Deven?”

I stare at her in horror. “I meant Prince Ashwin.”

Shyla’s frown deepens. I can only imagine what she will say to Parisa and Eshana about our encounter.

“I just left the prince,” Shyla says. “I’ll take you.”

5

ASHWIN

I sit cross-legged on a rug among wooden blocks and build a tower for Shyla’s daughter. My sister Rehan knocks down the structure with her chubby fists.

“You little tyrant,” I chide affectionately and re-erect the tower.

The toy structure is four blocks high when the baby swats it down again. At almost a year old, Rehan is the youngest of Tarek’s children. The palace nursery houses all fifty-two of my siblings. I was so overwhelmed when we met I left, intending never to return, but Rehan’s brown eyes plagued me. She has our father’s eyes. We both resemble Tarek, me more than her. My friends and family looked past his face to see me, so I did the same for my sister. I no longer see him in her at all.