Second Daughter (The Royals of Dharia, Book Two)

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  Second Daughter (The Royals of Dharia, Book Two)

  Copyright © 2014 by Susan Kaye Quinn

  July 2014 Edition

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher. For information visit:

  www.SusanKayeQuinn.com

  Cover by Steven Novak

  Developmental Editing by Bryon Quertermous

  Formatting by Polgarus Studio

  Interior Art by NovelNinjutsu.com

  Summary

  Aniri’s life is supposedly perfect—she’s beloved by the people of Jungali and betrothed to their handsome prince. He’s a noble barbarian who’s pledged to use his skyship for peace, but the threat of a second skyship in the hands of rival country Samir looms over their impending marriage… and Aniri begins to question her rush to marry a man she barely knows.

  When the Second Daughter of Dharia is poisoned, Aniri tells her soon-to-be husband she must rush off to Samir to care for her beloved sister. After all, how can she wed when Seledri may be dying? But in her heart, Aniri fears she may be like her long-lost father, fleeing the responsibilities of crown once again.

  Aniri may be a runaway bride, but the dangers in Samir are real—Seledri is being stalked by an assassin, the second skyship could bring war, and the three Queendoms have never had so much unrest. As Aniri fights to free her sister from a husband and a country she does not love, she unlocks tightly-kept secrets that might have been better left uncovered… and she wonders whether a love pledged in the heat of adventure can survive the looming threat of war.

  SECOND DAUGHTER is the second book in the Royals of Dharia Trilogy. It is told from Aniri’s point of view.

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  The love of the Jungali people washed over Aniri in waves of sound and color.

  She stood on the palace balcony, one hand raised, welcoming the applause, the other held gently by Ashoka, the handsome young prince she was supposed to marry within the week. They had returned the night before in Ash’s skyship, the Prosperity. Now, the morning sun had barely peeked over the white granite walls of his capital city, and they were already addressing his people. He had insisted they make an appearance as soon as possible—to announce their return and to reassure the people that all was well.

  Even if that was far from true.

  The crowd couldn’t all squeeze into the street below, so the people climbed rooftops and threw open windows, all craning to see the dashing hero who brought home not only their skyship, but a Queen-to-be and a shiny new treaty with the powerful country of Dharia, her home. The mountain air was thin, the sun was warm on her face, and the buildings were painted with brilliant reds, sharp yellows, and blues as deep as the infinite sky above them. The lack of proper air and the too-dazzling colors no longer left her dizzy, even with the tightly bound corset of her royal attire. What lay like a hundred pound weight on her chest was the secret she and Ash were keeping from everyone, one they had discovered on the flight back to Jungali: that the Prosperity might not be the only skyship that had been built, and that the Samirians may yet be planning war.

  Ash tugged her forward to the silver orb that wired the balcony for transmission throughout his capital city of Bhakti. The warm welcome showed no sign of stopping, so he smiled wide and raised their clasped hands in triumph and celebration. The snapping of fingers and cheerful hollering swelled.

  Ash leaned close to whisper, “They love you, Third Daughter of Dharia.” His lips brushed her ear lightly as he spoke, sending a delightful shiver across her sun-warmed skin. She ached for a moment alone with him. Not to chase after that shiver with a kiss, but to steal a chance to talk about the possibility of war and what that meant for all three Queendoms. Given that Aniri’s sister, the Second Daughter of Dharia, was married to the First Son of Samir, the specter of war between their countries felt like a secret dagger poised over Aniri’s heart.

  The crowd’s approval settled to a low rumble. Ash leaned toward the transmitter. “I’ve returned to my beloved Jungali with not only a skyship and a treaty, but with a new day ahead of us. The traitors who would drag our mountain provinces back into the days of anarchy have been found and dealt with.”

  The crowd finally hushed. The rogue Jungali general responsible for kidnapping Aniri and using the skyship to attack her homeland was already dead, but his men still lived. When Ash and Aniri had returned with the skyship, they had also brought her handmaiden Priya, Master Tinker Karan, the skeleton Jungali crew, and a brig full of the general’s men. Ash had locked the traitors in the palace dungeon, making clear his intention to use the fearful new technology of the skyship as an instrument of peace, not war.

  “There is no room for returning to the ways of the past,” Ash said into the transmitter. “The skyship will carry our country into the future with new trade opportunities, a more rapid form of transport, and enhanced security for all our provinces. The time has come to move forward into that new era for Jungali, one filled with peace and prosperity.” He smiled at Aniri and raised their clasped hands again. “And a wedding.”

  The crowd leapt with those words, small children dancing circles in the street below, and women pressing hands to their mouths to hide their glee. He was telling them exactly what they wanted to hear. But a royal wedding seemed like a fanciful dream with the possibility of war on the horizon… and the lie of peace weighed heavier the more the people cheered for it.

  Ash urged her away from the transmitter. He released her hand, but drew her close, one hand at the small of her back, the other slipping into her hair. He hesitated from the kiss to look into her eyes, his pale amber ones intense with excitement of the speech, his people, and his triumphant return home. He wasn’t pausing to ask for permission this time—there was no need—but whereas before he had been eager to show his people a love that didn’t exist, now he seemed almost shy about kissing her in front of them. Aniri closed the last space between them and pressed her lips to his. His hesitation fell away, and she tried to push back thoughts of skyships and war to meet the eager demands of his lips with an equal measure in return.

  The noise of the crowd grew to a frenzy, and Ash pulled back, ducking his head and fighting a smile. A cool breeze rose up and caressed them. She waved again to Ash’s people—the lie still weighing down her smile—but Ash turned from them and tugged her back through the crystal doors to his receiving room.

  Aniri’s handmaiden, Priya, awaited them with an unquenchable smile shining from her delicate face. Next to her was the prince’s sister-in-law, Nisha, who was likewise beaming, although more of a knowing kind of smile. She was the wife of Ash’s murdered brother, Tosh, but she seemed more sister than sister-in-law to Ash. Both Nisha and Priya wore full courtly attire that was properly colorful to match the Jungali sense of these things. Their bronzed skin was radiant against the brilliant blue silks, as if the Jungali sky had splashed down to embrace them in the form of corsets and skirts. The room was likewise well-appointed, lush with silk drapings on the walls and embroidered furniture for guests. Two guards kept watch by the door, and several more attendants waited near the crackling fireplace that kept the cool mountain air at bay.

  “Well done.” Nisha’s smile grew. “I think you could say anything out there and the people would approve.”

  Priya nearly bounced with happiness. “Especially when you end it with that sort of kiss.”

  Ash grinned. “I think they mostly approve of my future b
ride.”

  Their words just clamped the vise on Aniri’s chest tighter. They should be speaking of wars, not weddings.

  She turned to Ash, looking up into his face. “Could I have a word alone with you, Prince Malik?” She hoped the formal tone would transmit her seriousness, but instead his eyes grew wide and sparkled with mischief.

  He turned back to Nisha and Priya, both of whose eyebrows had risen high on their foreheads. “Please excuse us.”

  Without waiting for a response, he pulled Aniri away from them, past the fireplace, and toward a small alcove at the end of the room. Curious looks followed them, and Aniri wondered if there were a secret passageway between the potted, leafy plant and the painting of the Jungali mountainscape that he intended to escape through. But she was glad for the chance to finally discuss in private their plans about the possibility of war, even if they had to leave a scattering of amusement in their wake.

  The drawings Aniri had discovered aboard the Prosperity clearly showed that a second skyship, the Dagger, had at least been conceived, if not already built. The question remained by whom and where and for what purpose. And Aniri was afraid all three could be found in the half-truths whispered by her ex-lover: Samirian diplomat, courtesan, and ultimately spy, Devesh. But Devesh was gone, slipping away with the Samirian ambassador. To where, and whether they would find sanctuary in Samir, was still unknown. But the possibility of a second skyship increased the chances that they may yet have war as their aim.

  Ash found a door tucked at the very end of the alcove. He quickly swung it open, pulled her inside, and closed it behind them. It was more a very large closet than a room. Shelves lined the walls, stuffed with boxes and crates that overflowed with all manner of decorative items. The room was a relentless storm of white: dozens of spools of snowy lace stacked high, yards of sheer white fabric spilling to the floor, a flurry of white paper lamps strung along the ceiling, and at the far wall, a bleached-wood arch taller than Aniri immersed in a blizzard of beads, ribbons, and gossamer white fabric.

  Aniri turned to Ash, a thousand questions on her lips, but he met her by sliding his arms around her waist, then devouring her with a kiss.

  She was shocked… then consumed. He spun her around and pressed her to the door, crushing his body against hers as if he couldn’t get enough contact between them. Her corset was an effective barrier, and his glittering black formal wear was similarly constraining, but that didn’t stop his hands from roaming or his kiss from deepening. Aniri’s fingers wound into his hair, then clutched at his shoulders, taking the stolen moment for all it was worth. Ash slid his kisses to her jawline and edged toward her neck. The room turned as hot as if the fire had spilled from its place and ignited the walls around them. Aniri gently pushed him away, urging him to stop and sucking in air she had neglected to breathe. His heated breath puffed against her skin as he slowly trailed his lips in a line across her cheek.

  “A week feels an impossibly long time to wait to make you my wife.” His voice was deep with the passion of their kiss.

  Her heart broke its rhythm, and her face flamed anew. Of course they would consummate their marriage after the wedding, now that it was for love, rather than political convenience. But suddenly the nearness of that intimate act made the walls of the storage room seem to close in on her. She pressed her back against the door to gain an inch from Ash, who still hovered close.

  “Aniri?” His ragged breathing had quieted, and he peered at her. “You do still want to go through with the marriage, don’t you?”

  “Of course.” But with war on the murky horizon, the needs of both their countries should take precedence. “I just thought we might put it off for a while.”

  Ash’s face fell and he took a step back. “Put it off.”

  She reached a hand out to him, but stopped before touching his chest. “It’s just… what are we going to do about the second skyship? If the Dagger has been built, and there’s going to be war, we need to prepare—”

  “If there’s going to be war,” he said with a frown, “I want to have my Queen by my side. And the alliance with Dharia cemented by our marriage.”

  She nodded. “Yes, of course. That makes sense.” Then why did she feel so hesitant?

  Ash sensed it immediately. He leaned away from her, searched her face quickly, then turned to intensely examine a box of ribbons on the shelf next to him. “I wondered if, once the adventure was over, once the drama of the escape and the treaty-making had ended, once we returned to Jungali… if you would reconsider. If you would regret a decision made in haste, in the heat of the moment.” He sent a sideways look to her.

  Aniri’s mouth worked, but no words came out. The decision to marry Ash had been hastily made. And her judgment had a less than stellar reputation. It was her urgent desire to believe that Devesh had loved her, that they belonged together, which had nearly brought disaster to Jungali, Dharia, and all the people she loved.

  Ash looked away again, now studying his boots. “I can understand how a Dharian princess might not be truly happy living in a backward mountain province—”

  That propelled her forward. “It’s not that.” The troubled look in his eyes wrapped pain around her heart. “I’m just worried, Ash. With this second skyship, the possibility of war… My sister is with child, and trapped in a country we may soon be at war with. It’s clenched my heart since the moment I realized Devesh’s lies might be truths after all.”

  Ash’s eyes lit with hope up until the mention of Devesh’s name. “Aniri.” He gripped the wooden shelf next to him, his fingers digging in the cascades of fabric there. “You seem to want to forgive him for things that I would throw him in the dungeon for.”

  She frowned, confused. “I’ll be the last to forgive Devesh for holding me captive while General Garesh drugged and kidnapped me. But that doesn’t mean everything he said was a lie.”

  Ash took a breath and turned back to her, his face serious. “We can’t trust in anything he claimed.”

  His words scraped at her nerves. “I know I was foolish to believe the things he said—”

  Ash’s serious look softened. He gently touched her cheek with his finger. “It wasn’t foolish to believe in someone you loved. He just wasn’t worthy of it. Or of you.”

  She swallowed, the warmth of his hand soothing her. “All I know is that Dev was a master at weaving lies with truth. Perhaps the Samirians truly were using the skyship to distract us from the invasion they’re planning. Only the invasion from the east will be by air and skyships, instead of by sea with their trade fleet, as he claimed.”

  “That’s possible,” Ash said with a sigh. “But we have to be careful word doesn’t slip that we suspect another skyship. I’ve arrested those involved with General Garesh, but there are many more Samirians still living and working among us. Even Karan is Samirian.”

  Aniri drew back. “Surely you don’t suspect him. He saved my life.”

  A small smile finally found a place on Ash’s face. “I owe him my life as well. Karan is above suspicion. I wanted to check with you first, but I think it wise to bring him into our confidence with this.”

  Aniri nodded, relieved. Karan would understand the gravity of the situation. “Did he mention anything about another skyship when he was working with you and your brother?” Ash’s brother, Tosh, had helped Karan design the Prosperity before the young prince was murdered. Aniri still hadn’t found the right time to tell Ash that Garesh might have been behind his brother’s death as well.

  Ash shook his head. “No, I would have heard about it, if he had. But Karan could have valuable knowledge about the Samirians’ capabilities when it comes to building another skyship on their own.”

  “Not least how they would get hold of sufficient navia gas.”

  Ash smiled. “Precisely. How can the Samir have skyships of their own, if all the lighter-than-air gas is in Jungali? It was the discovery of the gas in Sik province that inspired the partnership with Samir in the first place—
our resources married to their technology.”

  A trickle of hope worked its way into Aniri’s heart. “Perhaps the skyship plans were just the dreams of the ambassador and General Garesh. Oh, Ash... if that were true, it would end there. We have the plans, Garesh is dead, and the ambassador has fled.” She dropped her gaze to the white decorative lamps that crowded the bottom shelf. “But that’s probably just more of my wishful thinking.” Her foolishness from before still burned shame in her cheeks. She didn’t want her heart to lead her again into believing things that were plainly not true to those with clear eyes to see.

  “It’s good to hope for the best,” Ash said softly. “But we must prepare for the worst. And one thing is certain: we’re not ready for war. Our own skyship is still depleted of navia. And the burning glass has been damaged by a certain princess who is handy with a sword.”

  Aniri grimaced. “Can Karan repair it?”

  “We’ll need to send the skyship back to Sik province, but yes. And while I dislike the idea of using such a powerful weapon, if the Samirians mean war, we’ll likely have need of it.”

  “Dharia needs to prepare as well. I brought my aetheroceiver. I can message my mother.” Aniri had brought the clockwork device back with her from Dharia, while the Queen still had its twin. Their wireless messages over the aether were the most secure way to quickly warn her mother of what they knew.

  “You cannot send this over a communique, Aniri!” Ash sighed and ran both hands through his dark hair. “I’m sorry. You’re right, the aetheroceiver is relatively secure, but you cannot be sure who will be on the receiving end. And it is imperative we keep this quiet. If the Samirians suspect we know, they will be forced into action. And we’re not ready for that.”

  Aniri held out her hands. “But the Queen can help us. She has spies, many in Samir—”