“The contest?”
“He would’ve thought it useless. All this pomp and circumstance.”
“Celebrating our ancestors and history is a way to remember the sorrows of the past. You know down in the artisans’ quarter they take the day off to remember the Jansans who perished in the Blighted War.”
“I didn’t know that,” Kunal said. “Maybe there’s a chance we can return to our old ways, after all of this.”
The thought lifted some of the unease from his shoulders, reminding him that they knew where Reha was, her exact location. They were one step closer to that future.
The tent suddenly went silent, and Kunal turned around.
General Panak was up on the stage, tugging at his uttariya in discomfort. But it wasn’t him Kunal was interested in.
Next to him stood a young woman, the top half of her face covered by a crimson silk uttariya. Her sari was resplendent with gold embroidery that mirrored the night sky. She took a step forward, and the bells of her anklets rang out.
Vardaan stepped out from the shadows behind her, a gleaming smile on his face. “We’ve enjoyed a night of splendid music from among the most talented of the land. And for them, I have a gift. A treasure I discovered only recently.”
No.
Not now. Not here.
“Our lost jewel, the princess Reha.”
Chapter 22
It took only one cry to shatter the silence, and chatter filled the room.
Esha reached a hand out to Harun, knowing that his heart was breaking. His sister was in the hands of their enemy.
Was she all right? She couldn’t see a cursed thing with that uttariya veiling her face. Esha wanted to go up there and rip it off, refusing to believe this was the Reha they had all worked so hard to save.
But there was still a chance Vardaan’s gamble wouldn’t work. He needed the public’s approval, and right now they looked as disbelieving as Esha felt.
“I welcomed her into our palace as soon as I discovered. But I haven’t stopped there. I’m overjoyed to announce that Princess Reha has asked to marry our general Panak and become part of our Jansan family.”
Reha stepped forward, her eyes still on the ground. “I am so grateful to the king for welcoming me back into the family. He has my eternal gratitude for finding and saving me.”
She had been trained well.
There was a smattering of applause, more than before. Vardaan had expertly maneuvered this. By saying Reha had asked for the marriage, he was invoking the age-old tradition of Jansa’s women choosing their own husbands.
Esha raged at the idea that Reha had been forced into this. She already had a family, one that had been searching for her and was sitting right here.
But when she looked at Harun, he looked neither devastated nor confused.
His eyes flickered to hers.
“Don’t react,” he said.
“How can I not?”
“Esha, put a smile on your face,” Harun repeated, his face placid as a still lake.
“This is not the time for you to order me around—”
“It’s not her,” was all Harun said. Esha tore her eyes away from the stage, where the adviser was reading the official decree that announced the engagement of the general and the newly reinstated Princess Reha.
“It’s not her,” he said again, with more emphasis.
“How do you know?”
“She was my sister.” The tiniest of fissures appeared in his mask. “I held her when she was scared of evil spirits at night. I cleaned her skinned knees and taught her how to hold a knife. I knew her blood song better than anyone. I know her.”
Esha looked for the king, only to see him walk up to the stage and embrace the princess—fake princess. “Does he know?”
Harun’s smile curved downward. “It was Father who gave me the signal to stand down. Vardaan did this on purpose. He’s playing us for fools. We can’t reveal that her blood song is wrong without betraying centuries of royal tradition.
“Smile, Esha. And clap,” he said. “We have to fight another day.”
Esha swallowed hard.
“If this isn’t her, then who is it?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
The thought made Esha’s skin crawl. “We confirmed last night that the shipment is in the citadel. The whole lower level is cordoned off. We found jasmine oil in the citadel where women aren’t even allowed.” Esha could hear the desperation in her own voice.
Harun sniffed at the air, his eyes flashing yellow as his senses sharpened. “I don’t smell jasmine on her.”
“So she has to still be there. If this was Vardaan’s plan all along, they must have kept this fake Reha in the palace.”
“I think so too. The rescue is still on.”
Esha nodded, looking away. “Let’s confirm with Kunal later. Harun, this changes things. We need to discuss.”
“We do,” he said, his voice lowering. “But for now, we need to act like we’re pleased.”
It was harder than she thought to keep her face in that mask of happiness, accepting people’s well-wishes on the royal family’s behalf, exchanging her own. Dinner was announced, and the fake princess was pulled into a seat beside the general, the two of them staged like plumed peacocks in the king’s zoo. Esha wondered if the general knew that he was engaged to an impostor.
She moved to get a glass of lemon water, something to cool the fire of panic and despair that was in her throat. She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a tap against her arm. Esha spun around to face Kunal’s amber eyes and open face.
“Is it her?” he asked. She pulled him half into the shadows so no one could read their lips.
“Harun says it’s not. The king agrees.” She spoke fast, knowing they couldn’t linger together. Not here.
“The king blessed the union with his own two hands.”
“Think, Kunal. If we accused him here, now, we’ll look like fools. Especially as Vardaan has so carefully orchestrated this by getting an audience of citizens, those who were so desperate for her return. And he’s invoked her ancient right to choose a husband.”
“I don’t think they believe that it’s really her.” There was a note of uncertainty in his voice.
“Even better. But we can’t be seen to be moving on speculation. He raised the bar, Kunal. We need to get Reha out and have her in the flesh to pose a challenge.” Tension rose in her head. “Did you see how he set this all up? Having her give that speech as if she had no interest in her birthright? Reha is the rightful heir to his throne and he knows it. Nothing but the woman herself will undo this.”
Kunal’s mouth softened. “Okay. Then as you said, it’s a setback. Not failure.”
“Right, a setback.” She had to keep telling herself that until she believed it.
Esha took a breath, calming her mind, letting in that coolness that had led her to key strategic decisions before.
“Can you go let the team know?” she said, tapping her fingers against the smooth shell of her knife underneath her sari. “I need to see to Harun.”
Kunal nodded and turned away, leaving Esha to her thoughts. She closed her eyes for a second before turning around and walking back into the crowd with a smile.
She found the supposed Reha within minutes, slipping into the gap between two nobles who were waiting in line to meet her. Esha grabbed the girl’s hand and bent into a deep bow.
“My princess,” she said. “I’m Esha.”
The girl tilted her head at her. “So nice to meet you.”
“But, Princess,” Esha said, holding on to her hand, laying her own over hers. “We’ve met before. I once tutored you. Perhaps you remember? You used to hate your sums, and I would have to coerce you with a piece of mango every time.”
“Oh,” the girl said with a quick smile. “But of course I remember. Esha—” The adviser next to her pulled her away, whispering into her ear. “Forgive me, the king is asking for me.”
&nb
sp; Esha didn’t stop staring at her as she left.
The skin on the girl’s hand was remarkably smooth despite the blue sapphire ring Esha was wearing, which she had pressed into the girl’s palm. No one with royal blood would have been able to stand having their skin touched by such a jewel.
And the Reha she’d known had loved sums and hated mangoes.
Esha found Harun within minutes.
“You were right,” she said.
“Aren’t I always?”
“About this, oh, Prince.”
“You doubted me?” he asked, his voice suddenly heavy.
“No, but we needed real confirmation, and I have it now,” Esha said, holding up her hand. Harun immediately recoiled.
“Watch where you’re waving that thing.”
“Relax, I’m keeping it in a pouch. For protection,” she said.
He nodded, and their gazes drifted to Vardaan.
“You know, it could help us get support from the nobles,” he said, still smiling as they turned to face each other. There were already new hollows under his eyes. “We’ll need to move quicker than before. Rescue and coup all at once.”
She hesitated, catching a flash of pale eyes down the way. “We can’t forget the ritual.”
“Of course not, but none of it will matter if we don’t have her on the throne. You were right. We can’t save the land just to break it with a civil war. We have to move up our timeline.”
Esha sighed and tugged at the edge of her sari, knowing she couldn’t show her frustration.
“I’ve already talked to a few nobles I had been in contact with before and reassured them, but I’ll need your help. There are too many, and we don’t want Vardaan to gain any more traction.”
“He already has,” a deep voice rumbled. King Mahir came up behind the two of them. “We don’t have time to win the support of fickle nobles. We have to take the throne by the end of the Sun Mela.”
The night air had cooled, adding a chill that hadn’t been there before. Fitting after the reveal, a layer of discomfort that matched the feelings of those gathered.
Kunal looked up at the moon, the way it curved into darkness, and thought of the ways he would combine paints to catch that shade. It calmed him, and calm was what he needed right now.
Arpiya and Farhan had taken the news of the impostor Reha well, though he had noticed the hard set of their jaws. He trusted Esha’s judgment, even the prince’s, but it was too many coincidences at once. Someone had known they were casing the citadel, and now, the reveal of the impostor Reha.
He hadn’t been lying before when he had told Esha that he thought many of the citizens weren’t convinced. The applause had been lackluster, enough not to get thrown in chains, but after his time in Ujral and the other towns, he knew the true depth of feeling for the lost princess.
If Vardaan was given the time, he might be able to convince them. How many other nobles had figured it out? If not from the halfhearted speech the impostor had given then from the rather too enthusiastic support from their own king.
Kunal dodged away from two young men who looked like they recognized him from the Mela. He pushed through the crowds, finding his way back up to Esha. The party was winding down, but she was still up on the dais with the king and Harun, ensconced in a small nook surrounded by thickets of plants. He couldn’t approach them, not if the king was there, so he waited nearby, using his sharpened senses to focus in on what they were saying.
“Take the throne?” Esha said.
“Father, I’ve been working on gaining support from the nobles for weeks now. We talked about this, how we need to sign the peace treaty for our people first, before we try to get Reha on the throne. It’ll guarantee trade will move freely again.”
“Which was a smart play, but irrelevant now,” the king said. “We discussed that as a way to make sure the Jansan people don’t starve under my brother’s watch, but after this move, I’m not so sure he ever had the intention of signing that peace treaty.”
“I respectfully disagree, Your Highness,” Esha said. “Not about the peace treaty. Moon Lord, we all know how the last meeting went. But we do need the nobles’ support to keep her on the throne. To prevent a civil war.”
“One is already coming if we don’t move quickly. We put her on the throne by the end of the Victor’s Ball or we lose all ability to avoid a war.”
Kunal started, his heart beating faster as he realized what the king was saying.
“Vardaan will need only a month to gain support for her, some sort of show of force. Did you see the speech he made her give? Most of tonight’s attendees can see through the artifice of politics. But with practice—”
Esha breathed out. “The public. If he takes her to the public, we’ll have no choice. It’ll become violent.”
“Let’s give ourselves a choice. Even if he trots her out around the entire city, it will still take time for him to gain support. The people won’t be so easily won, not from what I’ve gathered. And we can’t forget the land,” Harun said.
“And Dharmdev,” Esha said. “This will be the perfect time for him to enact whatever plan they’ve been working on. Remember how they refused our help? I know that isn’t because they’re happy with the status quo. The public will be wary, uncertain of this new princess. What better time for a beloved folk hero to come forth and claim power?”
“Is that what they want? Does Dharmdev want to become king?” Harun asked.
“No.” Esha let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. My meeting with them told me very little as to what their actual plans were. They didn’t even seem to know the princess was alive.”
Kunal stepped back. Esha hadn’t told him that she had met with the Scales. She knew they had been looking for Kunal. And Laksh had said he hadn’t told anyone of his identity, but doubt burned in Kunal’s veins.
Kunal spun away, fighting his way back through the crowd. He grabbed a glass of wine from one of the servers’ platters and knocked it back, feeling it burn as it flowed down his throat.
Why had he come here? To this nest of vipers, as Esha had called it.
Why had he made this choice to save Reha instead of saving his own skin?
It had been about protecting this land, his people. As a soldier, that had been the duty he had ignored. As a soldier and a royal, he owed it to them to do what was right for his people. He’d come here to tip the scales back, right the wrongs he had done, and still somehow, he had gotten caught in a lie. His past used against him even as he did what he could to escape it.
Kunal grabbed another goblet of wine from a passing server and twirled it in his fingers as he brooded.
Esha looked over to Harun and his father as they walked, both so similar that in the twinkling lights only their height distinguished them.
“What do they want, then?” Harun said.
“I wish I knew,” Esha said irritably. “The only thing I can say for sure is that they will use this moment, somehow. Dharmdev’s second, she was adamantly against another Dharkan on the throne. Vardaan has made these people skittish about any foreign influence. A girl who is only half their blood and carries the name of the Dharkan royal house along with Vardaan’s approval? I don’t think they’ll be happy. Especially if people are whispering she’s an impostor.”
“But soon you’ll have my real daughter, won’t you, son?”
Neither Harun nor Esha could stop their jaws from dropping.
“You know?” Harun asked. He looked as if he had just eaten a frog.
King Mahir chuckled. “As if I haven’t known for years what you two have been up to. Why do you think I’ve been working so hard to find a way to fix the bond? You took over the work I would have wanted to do, had I been free to. I had plenty of adventures during my own youth. Gauri and I . . .”
Harun blinked in wonder at his father. “You’ve seriously known this whole time?”
King Mahir laughed and patted his son on the back. “I’m not as old as you
think I am. I was your age when I led my first battle against the Yavar invaders during the War in the North.”
“Yes, yes,” Harun said, looking irritable. “We know. And you should really not call them invaders when they’re floating around this room. They could be great allies for our coup.”
“The bond,” Esha said. “Dharmdev’s second mentioned it in passing. She said ‘that bonds were meant to be broken.’”
“That could mean anything,” Harun said. “The bonds between our countries; the bonds that bind them to Vardaan . . .”
King Mahir had gone silent and still, long enough that Esha looked over.
“My lord, can the bond be broken?”
Harun gave her a look as if she was being ridiculous, but Esha kept staring at the king. He looked up, a tight smile on his face. She’d observed enough people to know when someone had realized something unpleasant. He heaved a heavy sigh.
“Theoretically. But the requirements to do such a thing, to break our only connection to the gods . . . It’d be difficult, to say the least. No one has tried in centuries, not since the Blighted War.”
“But someone has tried?” Esha asked, shock coursing through her.
Harun swore vividly. “Great, now we have to worry about that as well. Why in the Moon Lord’s blessed mercy would Dharmdev want to break the bond? What good does that do anyone in his land? We’ll have to move even quicker.”
Esha placed a calming hand on Harun’s arm.
“We’re working off a lot of assumptions here. Let’s not assume the worst before we know for sure,” Esha said in her most soothing voice. King Mahir sent her an approving glance. “And anyway, we’re moving as quick as we can. The Victor’s Ball is our new deadline, before the marriage. And the bond—”
“That’s my domain, children,” the king said, his voice taking on steel. “You worry about finding and rescuing my daughter. I’ll worry about the bond.”
Esha and Harun nodded, though Harun’s muscles were tense under her hand.
“My lord, this person who tried to break the bond before. Clearly, they didn’t succeed. What happened to them?” she asked.
“They didn’t succeed,” he said. “History remembers him as the man who started the Blighted War.”
The Archer at Dawn Page 19
