Third Daughter (The Dharian Affairs, Book One)

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  Devesh was watching her carefully as she thought on his words.

  “Just because you have superior technology does not mean we need to be enemies,” she said at last.

  “I agree,” Devesh said calmly. “But the Queen has grown lazy with the abundance of her land and the riches that allow her to buy whatever trinkets she wishes from Samir. She doesn’t see the changes roiling through my country, the dissatisfaction with always being second-class citizens in the world. The Jungali understand this better than your Queen. They know what it’s like to be impoverished. And thought of as barbarians. Your mother doesn’t see the real changes coming. She would rather have her teas and play at court in her traditional costumes than see what is right before her.”

  Aniri cringed, because at least that part had the ring of truth. And hearing General Garesh’s sneering taunts come from Devesh’s mouth unsettled her even more.

  “There are factions within Samir,” Devesh continued, “who believe our technology will finally bring us the stature in the world that we rightfully deserve.”

  “The flying machine?”

  “No! I told you… that is just a rumor. The Jungali are happy to join us in the deception for a small slice of the future spoils. The threat of a flying machine in the north is there to deflect attention, so the Queen doesn’t notice Samir is bolstering her fleet.”

  “But a strengthened trade fleet is no threat,” Aniri argued, hoping he was still wrong about some part of this, even though the sinking feeling in her stomach felt like a Dharian warship on its way to the depths. “Stronger trade strengthens our bonds—”

  “They’re not building a trade fleet, Aniri.” His voice was patronizing again. “Those trade vessels are very well armed. The Samirian government has quietly been building its reserves, buying time with rumors of flying machines in the north to keep Dharia focused on a common enemy.”

  He took hold of her shoulders again, speaking softly. “I am betraying my country by telling you this, Aniri. I wouldn’t do so if it weren’t so dire a situation. If you go through with this marriage, the prince’s reign will be solidified. There will be no threat any longer, whether the Queen believes the ruse of the flying machine or not. With that threat removed, with the distraction gone, the Samirians will move up their plans for attack. And no matter what the prince says, the Jungali are not your friends, my love. They despise the plains people. They have never been allies with Dharia, and they never will.”

  “You don’t know that!” All she had been working for with the prince—even if it was half ruse on her part—all of it was to bring peace between Dharia and Jungali. And it was a peace Prince Malik wished for as well. He wanted to honor his dead brother with it, to keep his country from falling into chaos—all of that couldn’t be lies. She’d seen the passion for peace on his face, heard it in his words. And peace was what she was risking everything for. Hearing it was impossible made her want to cover her ears and run from the room. But she knew that was a child’s reaction to something she didn’t want to believe.

  “I know much more than you can possibly realize, Aniri.” Devesh’s voice was low and soft now, dangerous. “These rumors did not start on their own. The Jungali hope to get their rewards once the war is finished, once Samir controls all the land and goods of Dharia. If you go through with the marriage, you will be in a literal trap—a prisoner of war. You need to believe me, Aniri, and you need to leave Jungali at once without raising suspicion that you have knowledge of the truth.”

  “But if the flying weapon is just a ruse, I can simply tell the Queen—”

  “Aniri, think!” Devesh cried out, his grip on her shoulders pinching tight. “If the Samirian government knows you are on to their ruse, they will be forced to move up their plans. You need to be safely back in Dharia before anyone knows. I can take you with me, now. I can get you out of Jungali, but you need to leave with me. Right now. Please.”

  Her mind still spun with it, but she couldn’t miss the panic in Devesh’s eyes, the fear she might say no. “But I can’t leave Priya and Janak behind! They will be in danger, too.”

  “Not as much as you, my love. The people who want you dead have already tried once.”

  Aniri’s breath caught. She had thought it was General Garesh behind the attempt on her life. Was the Samirian government trying to kill her, too?

  “I… I can’t leave them.” She wrung her hands, her mind clouding, then clearing as she pictured what would happen to Janak and Priya in her absence. “If I am gone, they will be held prisoner. Hostages, if nothing else. Or worse… they will have no value at all.” Her heart squeezed at that thought, but her mind was still in torment. She couldn’t imagine the prince would actually harm them; but someone had reached straight into his palace to attempt to assassinate her—if it were the Samirians, Janak and Priya would be just as vulnerable as she had been. Aniri balled up her fists again, frustrated, indecisive. She had to trust her heart, because her mind was a muddled mush.

  “I’ll go back and let Priya and Janak know we must leave immediately,” she said.

  “The prince will not let you go so easily,” Devesh warned.

  But that didn’t sit right with her. “He has already offered to allow us to return to Dharia,” she said, more confident now. “I will tell him we wish to make a quick trip back home, now that the engagement party is complete.”

  Devesh ran both his hands through his hair, frowning deeply. “He won’t allow it.”

  Aniri didn’t believe that, but it would be a suspicious move. And the forces who were trying to kill her might find a way before she secured passage for the three of them. “Then we must sneak out without his knowledge. Tell me where to meet you. I will bring Janak and Priya with me, and you can take us all out of country.”

  Devesh scrubbed his face with his hands. “All right. But it must be soon. I will make arrangements to spirit all three of you out tonight. Meet me at the Samirian consulate, at midnight. Ask for an audience with the ambassador. You can trust her. Do you know where the embassy is?”

  “Is it here in Bhakti?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can find it.” She put a hand to his cheek. “Thank you, Dev.”

  He looked uncertainly at her.

  “You took a tremendous risk coming here, telling me all this. Helping us.” She couldn’t ask for a more complete assurance of his love, that he was willing to betray his country to save her.

  He cupped her cheek with his hand. “Aniri.” His voice was a breathless whisper. Then he kissed her, crushing his lips to hers, pulling her body into his. It was brief and fierce and protective. It settled her heart even more than his words and his actions. When he released her and stepped back, he said, “Midnight. Do not be late, my love.”

  She nodded.

  “Go back to the party.” He nodded to the body of the guard. “I will take care of this. Let no one suspect you are planning to make your escape.”

  She picked up her skirts, so they wouldn’t drag over the guard, and quickly left the privy.

  Her heart quivered all the way back to the party.

  The guard at the entrance to the engagement party frowned when she returned without her escort, but he held the door open for her anyway. Whenever the guard Devesh had attacked recovered, she hoped it would be after she was long gone. At least for the moment, no one seemed inclined to question her. It helped that the formal part of the celebration had passed, the meal already half consumed. Guests were coming and going freely from their seats, visiting and politicking with their neighbors and allies long-separated by the miles between provinces.

  She slipped into her chair between the prince and Janak, hiding her shaking hands under the richly embroidered tablecloth that covered the table. Her plate was full of roasted meat and some unidentifiable delicacy, but she couldn’t stand the thought of food. She was desperate to lean over to Janak and tell him everything, but that was impossible. She would have to wait until they were safely back in the
ir room.

  She nudged the delicacy with her finger, moving it around so no one would notice she hadn’t actually eaten. Perhaps she could leave the party early, given it was already winding down, except she had no idea of the protocol. The prince was turned away from her in his seat, busy talking to two Jungali dressed in military finery, their cloaks long and black and buttoned with wide bronze-festooned ornaments along one side.

  Aniri leaned toward Janak. “How soon do you think we’ll be returning to our rooms?”

  Janak raised an eyebrow. “You are eager to return to our confinement, Princess? You seemed to be enjoying the change of pace.” Priya grinned at her from the next seat over. Of course, they would have no understanding of how dramatically things had changed in just a few short minutes.

  The military men left the prince’s side. Before anyone else could command his attention, she lightly touched his arm. He immediately turned to her, his look uncertain, as if wary of what she might ask.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Prince Malik,” she said, “but what is the protocol for the rest of the celebration?”

  He frowned, and she cursed herself internally for how awkward and forced she sounded. She needed to continue the ruse, at least until they were away. She added a smile, but that only made her feel more off balance.

  He leaned toward her, concern in his eyes. “Are you well, Princess?”

  That would make a fine excuse. “I’m not quite myself, I’m afraid. I was thinking of returning to my room.”

  The prince eased up from his chair and held out his hand to her. She looked at it, hesitating a moment too long, before taking it and rising herself.

  “I will accompany you back to your room, your majesty.” He pulled her closer as she cleared her skirts off the chair. His voice dropped, and he whispered in her ear, so only she could hear. “I quickly grow tired of these formalities myself. You’ve given me the perfect excuse to escape.”

  She looked wide-eyed at him, which thankfully he took as some kind of mock-reproach, because he grinned and placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her through the guests still circulating around the head table. Aniri glanced back to see Janak frowning, but he made no move to follow. She would have to meet him back at the room. For once, she hoped he wouldn’t delay.

  Prince Malik stopped for a brief moment at Nisha’s side. “Will you make apologies for me, Nisha? Princess Aniri needs a rest from the press of the court.”

  Nisha smiled wide, her gaze at Aniri full of warmth. “I know well the fatigue of these functions, Aniri. Take all the time to you need to become accustomed. There will always be more parties to attend. The public can wait.” Then she turned a knowing smile to Prince Malik, who frowned some kind of annoyance at her. Nisha quickly stood to intercept a Samirian diplomat headed for the prince with an expectant look. “I will hold off the diplomats for you, Ashoka.” She waved them away.

  The prince’s hand remained at the small of Aniri’s back while they navigated the crowds, leaving by the same door she’d just come through. As they crossed the threshold, she had a quick moment of panic, imagining Devesh dragging the body of her unconscious escort down the hallway, but of course it was clear. The prince nodded to the guard at the door and waited until the rise and fall of the banquet room chatter had faded, and they were alone in the hallway, before speaking.

  “I hope you’re not truly ill.” He gave her a sly smile, like he saw right through her excuse.

  Her chest grew tight. “I’m sure I simply need a rest.”

  He nodded, but didn’t say anything more, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Which suited Aniri because she was suddenly unsure about speaking to him, afraid all the fears Devesh had aroused might come spilling out of her. Had Prince Malik planned from the start to make a prisoner of her? Trap her in his mountain palace while the Samirians attacked her homeland? Even as those thoughts tumbled through her mind, they evaporated like mist. They were so tenuous compared to the gentle hand at her back and the sweet concern for her well-being that radiated from him.

  When they arrived at her door, she placed a hand on the knob—an anchor to steady her as she said her goodbyes. “Well...” This would be the last time she saw him, and suddenly that made her hesitate. She smiled. “Thank you for the escort. Assassins wouldn’t dare make an attempt on my life when I’m so well guarded.”

  His smile flashed and was gone. “Oh, I suspect whoever wants you dead, princess, would want to see me likewise.”

  Aniri swallowed. This conversation had quickly gone the one place she wanted to avoid. The prince suddenly seemed uncomfortable as well, examining his shiny black boots and then the doorknob with great interest before meeting her gaze again.

  “Would you mind—” He stopped. “May I come in for a brief visit, your highness?”

  Aniri’s heart skipped a beat. “A visit?”

  “If this is a bad time...” He took a half step back, as if he might run away down the hall. He stopped himself, then nodded. “Right. You probably want to rest.”

  She frowned. Why was he so nervous? Did he sense a change in her demeanor? He obviously didn’t believe her feigned illness.

  “But…” He hesitated again. “As your guard of the moment, I should probably check your rooms to make sure they are free of fire-bomb wielding assassins.”

  She smiled at his humor, but her chest was tight. Maybe a few moments for a visit would put him at ease, make him believe she was just escaping the party. She couldn’t afford to have him checking in on her later, when she was attempting to flee for real.

  “I would appreciate that, Prince Malik.” She tilted her head toward him, cringing at the mistake of formality again. “Ash. And I’m fine, truly. But a visit is more than welcome.”

  He smiled and turned the knob for her, passing through the threshold and making a show of scanning the room while holding the door open for her. She swept in, waited while he closed the door again, and then strode over to the sitting area.

  She gestured to the small couch, planning on taking a seat in one of the chairs Janak habitually occupied. “Please have a seat. I’m afraid I don’t have tea. I’m not exactly prepared for entertaining.”

  “That’s hardly necessary. I did invite myself in.” He gestured for her to sit first... on the couch. When she did so, he took a seat next to her, closer than she was expecting. His arm draped across the red velveteen and dark wood of the back. His earnest look said he had something in particular to discuss. She tried to draw in a calming breath without looking like she was doing so. Hopefully she could put him at ease quickly and send him on his way.

  “Ash,” she said, trying for a teasing smile, “if I didn’t know better, I would think you were truly courting me.” She hoped a little humor would short circuit the niceties and get him straight to the point. Instead, he looked shocked and dropped his gaze to his hand, which was white-knuckle clenching the back of the couch.

  “Oh,” she said, suddenly off balance again. “I didn’t mean to offend. I—”

  “Aniri,” he cut her off, looking back at her with those earnest amber eyes. “When I asked you to accept this arrangement, I knew it would be hard on you. Hard on me.” He smiled a little. “Honestly, I never really expected you to accept. And when I first saw you... I have to admit the prejudice of my people had its grip on me as well. I didn’t think a princess from the plains could ever do something so noble as give up marrying for love to serve her country. Not when she had a choice.”

  She raised her eyebrows, stunned out of her concerns for the moment. “What do you mean, when you first saw me?”

  “That day, outside the Queen’s anteroom, you were the picture of what I expected from a Dharian princess: beautiful, dressed in the finest silks imaginable, with an air of...”

  “Regality?” she asked, desperately trying to lighten the mood. “Nobility?”

  “Arrogance.”

  Her mouth hung open in mock shock, and his smile tipped up on one side. She
smacked him playfully on the shoulder, but he caught her hand and quickly brought it to his lips. His kiss touched the crest of Dharia inked on the back of her hand. Before she could recover from the shock, it was over.

  Although he still held her hand in his.

  “I quickly found you surprised me.” All humor had fled from his face. “And you have been constantly surprising me ever since, Aniri.”

  She should pull her hand away. She knew this. Yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it, not while he was looking at her that way. “Why did you propose to arrange the marriage, if you thought there was no chance of me accepting?”

  He let out a laugh and a small shake of his head. “I was desperate. Trying to hold my kingdom together, with no way out of the box of politics I had found myself in. I had tried everything, every alliance or ploy to cement my hold on the throne. You were my last hope.” His voice dropped on the last word, and his eyes dropped to the Dharian crest on her hand. He passed his thumb over the deep burgundy tattoo, sending that same flush through her as during their kiss.

  She blinked, not expecting that thought, and feeling even further off balance.

  Somber again, he continued, “I know you have a lover at home. I knew as we left Dharia that this would be hard for you, and yet you’ve done nothing but help make this peace arrangement work. I thought it would be hardest on you, this arrangement. But I was wrong. I think it’s going to be much harder on me.”

  Aniri’s eyebrows lifted. “Is marrying me such a difficult thing?” She tried to make it light, but her chest was pained with not remembering to breathe, and her voice sounded breathless instead.

  He grinned. “Horribly difficult, actually. At least, as long as you are only marrying me to bring peace.”

  Her mouth opened, but no words had formed in her head. “What are you saying?”

  He inched closer on the couch, holding the tips of her fingers near, but not quite touching, his chest. “I’m saying I wish I had not so readily agreed to allow you to have other lovers.”