by Neha Yazmin
“So, the music must have—”
Shahan stopped before uttering the revelation: The music had kept him asleep! A shiver went through Shahan’s body, even though the heat was smothering.
“The music must have been quite something,” Shahan continued, swallowing.
“It was like nothing I’ve heard before,” Ark said. “It didn’t even have instruments, I don’t think.”
“What do you mean?”
Ark shook his head, his face flushed. “It was like one angelic voice, singing… I know that sounds silly, but my grandmother used to say that the sea folk can sing like that, that they can lure people to the sea with their voices. Do you think they took Ma?”
“I hope not,” Shahan replied. “Because if the sea folk took all those people, then I don’t know how we’d get them back.”
And if they’ll still be the same when they return... Lord Farzah had said that the Khadakis that supposedly came back from the sea folk’s clutches had come back all wrong, their minds addled…
Everyone she spoke to after Ark said the same thing—it had been one instrument, one angelic voice.
That was why Malin was in the Royal Library on a Saturday night. Unable to disregard the involvement of the sea folk in this mystery any longer, she’d spent the entire day amongst the stacks, trying to find information on the creatures of the ocean. Everything she knew about the sea folk had come from stories she’d grown up with. Now was the time to look into actual facts, official accounts.
So far, she hadn’t found anything in reference to the use of singing in putting people to sleep, or luring them to the water. But she’d keep looking; there were a lot of books to get through. Asking the firaki, or the people that might know the truths from the myths, would give rise to questions that she didn’t want to answer.
Even if it hadn’t been pounding down with rain all day, Malin would still have ensconced herself in the library today. There was no one else to interview in the Outskirts, and she had nothing else to go on apart from what Ark had said.
If only Aaryana was here. Her fourth sister used to boast about knowing more about the sea folk than anyone else in the family. She claimed that their mother had told her stories that no one else knew. Did Aaryana remember those stories? Would their father, or Leesha, punish Malin if she sent a letter to Aaryana, asking for what she knew?
The punishment for contacting an exile was death. Would they dole out that sentence to the youngest Vijkanti Princess? Surely, Leesha wouldn’t want to lose another sister? Surely, their father didn’t want to say goodbye to another daughter? And if she risked their wrath and her message reached Aaryana, would her sister find a way to write back, without getting caught herself? When would Malin receive her reply? Five or six months’ time? Longer? Could her investigation wait that long? Why did Father exile Aaryana to such a faraway land?
“You didn’t have to send her that far north, Father!” she’d complained when he told her that he’d personally chosen Roshdan for Aaryana to spend her exile.
He had only admitted that to stop Malin from calling the Chief of Justice some very bad names, assuming, like everyone else, that it was the Chief’s decision to send Aaryana so far north. The Chief had merely picked the region; her father had picked the Island.
“Even if I chose to exile her to Khadak,” her father had said calmly, “she still wouldn’t be permitted to contact you, or you her.” He gave her a stern look. She pretended not to notice.
Even back then, he seemed to know that Malin would desperately want to write to Aaryana one day.
“But why Roshdan, Father?” she’d moaned.
“Roshdan has a very rich history, I’m told,” he replied. “I thought your sister would find it most enlightening.”
“What are you thinking?” Wyett’s voice pulled Aaryana out of her thoughts.
She wasn’t sure how long they’d been dancing in silence, how long he’d been waiting for her to respond to his statement about being a breaker of bones, not hearts.
“I was thinking about His Majesty,” she lied. “About what he said after reading my letter. I got the feeling that he was talking about himself. That he can’t move on with his life because he loves your mother so much. What was she like?”
She was genuinely intrigued. And with Wyett in a rare talkative mood, why not try and learn something that might become useful one day?
Tensing slightly, Wyett was silent for a long moment, most likely wondering if he wanted to tell Aaryana anything about the late Queen. “She was a quiet but strong person,” he eventually told her, voice low. “She sang like an angel. She was a good mother and she helped my father become a good man. She is… missed by us all.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Your Highness,” she said softly. “His Majesty must have loved her very much.”
The Prince’s face hardened. His grip on her waist tightened and she gasped.
Wyett dropped his arms and said, “He must have.” Then, he took a step back from her. “I’ll see you in the tower,” he mouthed, but his eyes were saying something else.
Yes, he’d see her in his father’s office, but not in the next few hours. Now, he just wanted some time alone.
After counting to sixty, Aaryana left the room, too. She was surprised that no one stopped her; the King had suggested in his speech that everyone would want to dance with the Queen of the Deep. His Court probably assumed she was going to meet the Crown Prince and didn’t want to risk his wrath by stalling his lover.
The Harmony Dance had only just started; there would be plenty of time before she had to show up at the King’s office later, so she went straight to her room to change out of her gown. She donned the outfit that Rudro had gifted her—the black bodice and pants made her sigh from comfort—and pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head before stalking out of the Palace.
Since she’d been elevated from Royal Guard to Courtier, Aaryana hadn’t been assigned extra security. The two men posted outside her chambers remained, but she didn’t get followed around by a group of guards wherever she went. Did the King think she didn’t need protection or had he forgotten to post more guards in her rooms?
No. Kings and Queens didn’t forget such things. Kings and Queens didn’t trust outsiders that much. King Keyan definitely had a reason for not enlisting guards to trail her. Not publicly, anyway. If his people were spying on her covertly, he knew that she’d visited an alehouse almost every night this past week after their debriefings in his office. And he had his reasons for not confronting her about it. If it had offended him, he would have told her to stay indoors at night, wouldn’t he?
She didn’t think anyone from the castle had followed her this week, so the King probably didn’t know anything about her nightly excursions. Neither did Wyett. Why had he stopped spying on her? If he knew where she went under the moonlight, he definitely would have demanded answers from her. Had the Prince given up on trying to get her into trouble or was he simply postponing his agenda until the two of them accomplished the King’s task?
The big moon and bright stars lit her way to the market, her warhorse trotting along at a leisurely pace. She didn’t detect anyone trailing her, but she wasn’t an expert when it came to this sort of thing. Kings and Queens of Adgar weren’t expected to sneak around at night, so the teachers of The Contest had never covered topics such as ‘How to tell if anyone is following you and how to throw them off your trail’.
Besides, she told herself, it’s not illegal to visit an alehouse. Anyone watching would have no idea what she was up to, anyway. What are you up to, my Lady? Myraa would have asked. Why go to an alehouse but drink nothing? What are you waiting for—or rather, who?
“Micah.”
The rebel leader was finally here. She hadn’t anticipated that he’d take this long to get the hint. Aaryana had been coming down here to make contact with him, and she’d been frustrated that he’d failed to take the bait.
He stood outside the alehouse
with his lackeys from the cottage. The light of the torches and lanterns of the building spilled outside, throwing a spotlight on them. Music and shouts of joy suggested that the alehouse was celebrating the King’s birthday in its own way.
As she dismounted her warhorse, the rebel leader started towards her. Aaryana drew a dagger from her weapons belt and angled it towards his neck the moment he stopped in front of her. His men rushed forward but didn’t charge at her. Micah’s eyes widened in surprise.
She sneered. “You live only because His Majesty wishes it,” she hissed at him. “Leave my sight before I remind myself that he didn’t order me to not hurt you.”
Micah began to ask what she was talking about, but she cut him off before he could say anything stupid.
“He told me not to kill you, but he never mentioned anything about not giving you pain. Get away from here before I take advantage of that technicality.”
The rebel leader’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“I have a big day tomorrow,” she announced, “and I don’t want to spend all night scrubbing blood off my skin.”
She looked at him pointedly, hoping that he understood her meaning: She would talk to him tomorrow; he should track her down, follow her to the safe place she’d chosen for their meeting. The tailor’s shop with the secret door.
Over the course of the week, she’d learned from her new lady friends at Court that the concealed door in one of the changing cubicles had been boarded up. It wouldn’t be much trouble to work around that and talk privately with Micah.
At last, he seemed to grasp what she was saying and nodded.
Rolling her eyes, she lowered the dagger and pointed it away from the alehouse. “Off you go,” she said. “Bye-bye.”
Once the rebels were gone, she secured her horse and slipped inside the alehouse. Perhaps she would have a drink, after all.
The Palace was quieter than usual when Aaryana left for the tailor’s shop the next morning, telling Jeena that she was spending her Sunday shopping. She felt refreshed and clear-headed—the opposite to the rest of the residents of the castle, no doubt. The ball had gone on all night, and though the music had kept her up until dawn, she’d relaxed into her bed, enjoyed the noise.
Not long after midnight, a page had knocked on her door, leaving a note from Wyett. She was glad that she hadn’t loitered at the alehouse for long and had returned to her rooms by the time the Prince’s message arrived. ‘Not tonight,’ he’d written. Cryptic enough for the spies, and obvious enough for her: The debriefing with the King was cancelled. Hardly surprising, considering Wyett’s mood when he’d departed the ball.
What she wasn’t expecting was to find the King’s nephew in the cubicle when she slipped inside to try the first gown that took her fancy at the tailor’s shop. Perhaps he was cleverer than he’d appeared last night and figured out that this was the only place they could talk in private? Good—she wouldn’t have to deal with the planks of wood nailed across the secret door.
Micah stepped forward to lock the door that she’d entered through. Years of training meant that she could pull out the dagger in her boot and take it to his throat by the time he spun around to face her. His eyes flashed with irritation and he looked nothing like Seth in that moment. He looked like Wyett.
“We can talk safely,” he hissed. “The tailor’s assistant is sympathetic to my cause.”
So, the man in the shop wasn’t the owner? The middle-aged man had seemed eager to get her into this cubicle—she’d thought he simply wanted to sell her the dress. With a jolt, she realised that this was the man that delivered the message to Rozlene to have her dress fitting. The man the King trusted. She had unwittingly discovered a traitor to the Crown, but she wouldn’t be able to name him without landing herself into trouble. Micah’s careless mistake would go unpunished for the time being.
“Drop the blade, Princess.”
“Not likely.” She pressed the flat of her blade into his Adam’s apple. “You betrayed me.”
She punched him in the stomach with her free fist. Stepping back in the tiny enclosure, she gave him room to double over. He clutched his middle, trying to catch his breath.
“What are you talking about?” he panted when he managed to straighten up.
“The King received an anonymous tip off that I snuck a letter onto the seabird,” she said in a low but livid voice. “I know it was you. My letter was found.”
Micah shook his head, face paling. “Why would I betray you?”
“Then your lackeys weren’t careful enough when smuggling that letter onto the ship,” she said with a sneer, unimpressed. “I have learned this past week that the vessel might depart tomorrow…”
This wasn’t a lie. Lisbeth had made a point of mentioning whatever she heard from her husband about the seabird. Was the woman trying to remind Aaryana that she was a disgraced Princess or was she hoping to gain Aaryana’s favour by keeping her updated on matters of the Court? Most people had realised that the King was fond of Aaryana and Wyett was seemingly succumbing to her charms as well. If Aaryana was the future Queen, why not get in her good graces?
“Do you have another letter written?” Micah had a desperate plea in his voice. “I can get it aboard the ship before nightfall—”
Her laughter cut him off. “You think I’d trust you again?” She shook her head. “Our agreement is off. You failed to—”
“Don’t be so rash. Let me find out who betrayed you—betrayed us. Give me a little time and I’ll find the person that is plotting against you. Surely, knowledge of who your enemies are is worth having.”
Aaryana made a show of thinking about it. There was no way Micah would uncover the identity of the person that had tipped off the King—the rebel leader wasn’t that smart. But she did need to speak to his mother.
“Fine,” she said with false reluctance. “And while you investigate, I want to meet with your mother.”
The rebel leader pursed his lips. If he agreed to her demand, this would be his second favour to her before she’d even agreed to take on the role of his spy. What choice did he have, though? Getting her message to Adgar was his way of buying her allegiance, and he’d failed. He had to pay her another way now.
“Not yet,” he eventually said.
Momentarily taken aback, Aaryana just stared. “Then this meeting is over,” she declared, voice calm.
She made to shove past him and out of the minuscule room when he grabbed her arm.
“Wait,” he pleaded.
She narrowed her eyes at him over her shoulder and he dropped his hand.
“I can give you something else while you wait for me to catch the snake that betrayed you. I can tell you who Wyett is in love with.”
“Why would I want to know that?” Aaryana asked without thinking through the benefits of knowing who was standing between her and Wyett.
Yet, knowing who he loved wouldn’t change the fact that Wyett despised her.
“You want to know this, trust me.” Micah seemed smug. She rolled her eyes. “So, you no longer want to marry my cousin?”
She inhaled deeply. The knowledge couldn’t hurt, she supposed. And why not take everything Micah threw at her before she had to give anything in return?
“Alright, you have a deal.”
“Excellent.”
“Now, tell me who he loves,” she said.
Her heart broke when he told her.
Seth was waiting in her lounge. Aaryana dropped her shopping bags beamed at him. She wanted to throw her arms around him, say she’d missed him. But it wouldn’t sit well with Wyett. And it was completely irrational. She saw him every day at lunch and dinner, she’d seen him at the dance last night, she saw him around the castle all the time. She just didn’t dare speak to him.
“Seth, what brings you here?”
Seth rose from chaise and took her hand in his for a kiss. “I want what you owe me.”
He sounded quite serious, looked it too, but she knew he must be
joking. She was pretty certain she didn’t owe him anything. Apart from the truth, which he couldn’t possibly know about.
“And what would that be?”
“The Queen of the Deep appeared at the Harmony Dance after such a long time, and only danced with one Prince!” He shook his head in disapproval. “The least you could have done is dance with the other Prince before you left.”
“I don’t think the Crown Prince would have approved,” she mumbled. “He ordered me to stay away from you.”
“Don’t tell me he sees me as competition?” Seth’s eyes were wide and mocking.
“No,” she blurted out. “He told me to keep my distance from you before we started… before everything changed.” Aaryana turned her back to him. “He’ll be very angry if I don’t ask you to leave.”
“You can ask me, but I won’t listen—”
“But he ordered me—”
“And I think Father’s orders overrule Wyett’s,” Seth said with a chuckle.
She spun around. “His Majesty ordered you to come dance with me?”
“Yes. Well, not the dancing part. To keep you company.” He grinned. “I was devastated to find that you’d gone dress shopping; I didn’t think you were the type.”
“The type that wore dresses? I wear them all the time to Court!”
“The type that likes shopping,” he informed her, laughing.
“I love shopping.”
“For weapons, rather than clothes, though. Am I right?”
He had her there. “Why does the King want you to keep me company today?”
“Considering the fact that the seabird sets sail tomorrow at first light, I’d wager that Father wants you watched to keep you from doing anything stupid. Like smuggling another love letter onto the boat.”
So, Lisbeth had her facts right. The crew was off on Monday and would reach Adgar within weeks. Leesha, would say what was necessary to ensure that the King of Roshdan allowed Aaryana to stay in his Island. Disclosing the truth about Aaryana’s banishment would reveal that Adgar had lied to, and betrayed the trust of, another Kingdom. It would not go down well with any monarch to know that a convicted murderer had been sent to their Island under false pretences.
