He sighed. “When I promised to protect Dayo, I didn’t just mean his life. I meant his heart too.”
“It’s not like you to be cryptic, Jeet.”
“Now is another one of those times,” he said, “that I would like to tell a lie.”
I laughed in spite of myself. It was an old joke now: Sanjeet’s crippling inability to sugarcoat. His honesty was his tribute to Sendhil—the lost brother with a Hallowed tongue that never lied.
Sanjeet inhaled, and then spoke as if battling his own nerve. “Dayo will need to sire a Raybearer someday. He has to choose a partner from our council. And it’s going to be you. Everyone knows it, and I’m not going to get in the way. I shouldn’t make things—complicated.”
I practically fell off the bench. “Oh, everyone, is it?” I stood and planted my hands on my hips. “All of Aritsar is just waiting around for Dayo to impregnate me?”
“Yes.” Sanjeet’s tone was unnervingly matter-of-fact. “Some courtiers thought it might happen before we left the Children’s Palace.”
“What the—” I gaped with disgust. People had been gabbing about Dayo bedding me since we were kids?
Sanjeet stood too, running agitated fingers through his dark curls. “Look, I’m not saying it’s right, it’s just … when you and Dayo are together … Tar, you’ve no idea how it looks. I can’t explain it. The two of you are like planets. Orbiting. Two sides of a coin.”
Beans in a pod. I shivered, remembering Dayo’s words from that night in the Children’s Palace.
“It won’t be long before Dayo stops seeing you as a sister.” Sanjeet’s jaw hardened. “And it’s time I accept that some things are set in stone.”
“Stone?” I snorted. “Don’t I have any say in this?”
Sanjeet’s expression remained carefully blank. “I assumed you felt the same way about him.”
“Well, stop assuming.”
“Because it’s none of my business?” Sanjeet fixed me with those tea-colored eyes. “Or because I’m wrong?”
“Uh, both?”
He swore softly and shifted his feet, shaking his head. “Sorry. I’m being stupid. Just … forget I said it.”
A long moment passed. “I’ve never wanted Dayo that way,” I said quietly. “All right? I’d kill for him. Die, even. But I’ve never wanted … more.” I considered. “Not like that.”
Several emotions crossed Sanjeet’s face. Most of them I couldn’t read—but one was unmistakable, spreading across his features like the shy halo of dawn.
Relief.
Dragonflies spun circles in my stomach. I turned on my heel, needing to be back with the others, anywhere but there, beneath the heat of those searching eyes.
“Going to bed,” I mumbled, tucking my bandaged hand beneath my arm and fleeing back through the wisteria arbor.
Sanjeet did not follow me. But the Ray fluttered at the back of my neck, and a deep, warm voice floated above my ear.
Sleep well, sunshine girl. I will take whatever dreams you give me.
“YOUR COUNCIL IS HEINOUSLY BEHIND IN ITS studies.”
“Glad to see you too, Uncle Thaddace,” Dayo quipped. “Feeling refreshed after your trip from the capital?”
It was early morning, mere hours after my talk with Sanjeet in the garden. Pigeons cooed from the window of my keep study, where I sat shoulder to shoulder with Dayo. Thaddace sat across from us at my kneeling desk, rolling his sharp green eyes at Dayo’s attempt at a joke.
Two of the Emperor’s Eleven visited Yorua Keep every month, overseeing the studies of the heirs who would replace them. The High Lord Judge and High Priestess had arrived from Oluwan City only an hour ago. The idea of meeting with High Lord Judge Thaddace had made me nervous, but I had been excited to meet with Mbali. I felt horribly underprepared to assume her position as Swana Delegate, and so Mbali had scheduled time this morning, offering to tutor me in Swanian economy and customs. But when I had arrived at my study, she wasn’t there.
“Oh—forgot to tell you,” Dayo had said, yawning and patting the cushion next to him. “I rescheduled your meeting with Aunt Mbali. You don’t want to discuss stuffy Swanian politics this early, do you? Besides, I want to hear what you have in mind for your First Ruling. I’ve invited Uncle Thaddace to consult.”
Surprised, I had put away my notes on Swana, pulling a stack of court cases from beneath the desk instead.
As Crown Prince, Dayo had the authority to dictate our schedules at the keep, though it was unlike him to wield it. This was the second time Dayo had rescheduled my lessons with Mbali. Strangely, when