Second Daughter (The Royals of Dharia, Book Two)

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  Aniri could hear the pain in her words. Their father was yet another person who treated Seledri with far less care than she deserved. Aniri didn’t know what to say.

  “Your father is worried about you both,” Devesh said softly, drawing them back. “About the attempt on Seledri’s life. About you, Aniri, getting tangled in it. Let me take you to him.”

  “You will be taking us nowhere.” Janak’s voice was as hard as the cobbled stones behind Devesh’s head. “Do not be fooled by this, Aniri. Your father didn’t want to be found eight years ago. I doubt he wants to be found now.”

  Aniri studied Janak’s impassive face. It betrayed nothing of the turmoil this must be causing him. “Eight years is a long time.” She couldn’t say the words she wanted to: you needn’t worry about the King returning to his Queen. Even if she and Janak were alone, she didn’t know if she could voice them. Or if they were really true.

  “Not long enough.” The muscles in Janak’s jaw twitched with how hard he was working to keep his words unspoken.

  Hope was alive on Seledri’s face. “If he’s really alive, Aniri…”

  “You cannot believe anything this courtesan tells you,” Janak said. “He has nothing but ill intent in coming to find us. He is your enemy, Aniri. Do not forget it.”

  Of course Janak was right. Devesh had been working with the ambassador. He had knowledge of skyships and intrigues she could only guess at, and there was no doubt he was deeply entwined with the enemies of Dharia and Jungali. And yet… his words about her father had the weight of truth in them. Or maybe it was just her wishful thinking that her father now worried for the Daughters he had abandoned long ago. Aniri didn’t know. She couldn’t know the truth within Devesh’s lies.

  But one thing she did know.

  She gave Devesh a cool stare. “He may be our enemy, but enemies have knowledge we can use to our advantage. Knowledge I’m sure we can extract given enough time.”

  Devesh’s mouth fell open, and his face went ashen.

  Janak lifted an eyebrow, but then gave her a small nod. “We’ll bring him with us, then.”

  Aniri tilted her head in agreement. “Once we’re safely aboard the skyship, we’ll have time to find out all he knows.” She turned back to Devesh, who was looking quickly between her and Janak and frowning. “If you tell the truth, Dev, it will go easier for you. If not, when we get back to Jungali, I can’t promise the interrogations will be any more pleasant.” A lead weight settled in her stomach at the thought of how Devesh would fare in Ash’s prison.

  “Wait!” Devesh held up his hands. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. But what is this about the skyship? You’re leaving? Now?” He glanced at Seledri. “And you’re taking her with you?”

  Seledri dashed a wide-eyed look to her, and Aniri grimaced. She had just given away their plans. But it mattered little, since Devesh would be coming with them.

  “You can come willingly or we can leave you in this alley.” Aniri didn’t have to say that he wouldn’t be breathing if they were forced into that option. She turned to Janak, “We should make haste. Inform Captain Tarak we’re on our way.”

  “Aniri, wait!” Devesh’s voice hitched up a notch. “I’ll go willingly. I’ll answer your questions, just… come visit your father first.” He glanced again at Seledri. “Before you decide to leave Samir. It’s important you speak with him.”

  Aniri narrowed her eyes. “I haven’t spoken with him in eight years. I’m sure it’s nothing urgent.” A sour taste rose in the back of her throat. The truth was this may well be her last chance to ask her father why he abandoned her and her sisters and their mother. But Seledri’s safety was more important.

  Devesh dropped his hands and stood straight against the cobbled wall. “Actually it is most urgent. It’s regarding the assassination attempt.”

  Seledri edged forward and demanded, “What do you know about it?”

  “I know you need to speak to him, my lady.”

  Janak coiled up a fist like he was tempted to strike Devesh again. “This courtesan is preying upon your hopes, your majesty.”

  Seledri ignored Janak. “How do you even know my father,” she asked Devesh, “much less have his confidence in matters like this?”

  “And why would he trust you, of all people, to come for us?” Aniri added.

  Devesh held Aniri’s gaze for a moment, his soft brown eyes pleading sincerity. “Because I’ve known him for longer than I’ve known you, Aniri.”

  She couldn’t help it: some part of her believed him. She didn’t trust him at all, but one thing she knew about Devesh: his ears and eyes were sharp. He was deeply involved in all kinds of matters—it was very possible he knew even more than he was letting on. And if he had information about the attempt on Seledri’s life… they should find out what Devesh knew before they spirited Seledri out of the country and possibly touched off a war.

  Janak watched her with expectant eyes, while Seledri’s were filled with a wild kind of hope. Aniri’s stomach twisted itself in knots as tight as her climbing ropes back home.

  She turned back to Devesh. “If you’re lying to me, Dev… it will not go well for you.”

  He visibly swallowed, then said, “I’ll take you right to him.”

  They returned to the streets, walking briskly two by two through the bustling commerce of the midday capital, Aniri and Devesh in front, followed closely by Janak and Seledri. Janak had wanted to keep Devesh within arm’s reach, but Aniri had questions she wanted answered before they reached wherever Devesh was leading them. Because if her father wasn’t there, and it was some kind of trap, she had no doubt Devesh would be dead before she would have a chance to query him further. Besides, her questions were the kind she couldn’t ask under torture, or the threat of it. Ones she shouldn’t even ask. She certainly didn’t want anyone else to hear the answers, even if they were lies.

  “Why?” Aniri asked him.

  He glanced at her, his warm brown eyes squinting against the sun. He seemed to struggle for an answer. Aniri waited, glad he didn’t insult her by pretending not to know what she meant.

  “My mission was to woo the naïve, rebellious Third Daughter of Dharia. With two of the three Daughters bound to Samirians, it would weaken the Queen’s ability to resist Samir’s demands.”

  “When you waged war upon us.”

  “Yes.”

  Aniri stared at the cobbled walk in front of them. The pain lancing through her chest was an echo of the first time he broke her heart, but it was still strong enough to feel fresh again. She knew he never loved her, that his betrayal began from the beginning, but hearing it from his own lips, finally spoken aloud… their unhurried pace was meant to avoid attention, but it served her well in that moment as her vision blurred on a well of tears. Anger rose to fight them off. It was entirely intrigue for him, from the start. And now her interest should be solely intrigue as well.

  “What reward did they offer you?” She kept her voice cool and measured like his. “Or were you merely in service to the crown?” And the ambassador. She left that part unsaid, but it added a layer of disgust to the sourness at the back of her throat.

  “A place at court. The gratitude of the crown.” He stared straight ahead. “I was a boy from a remote village with no skills and no prospects. It was an offer none would refuse.” He paused. “I thought I knew, I thought I understood…” He stopped again, struggling. “I was foolish to think I could do this without causing harm.”

  “Oh, I’m quite certain I was the fool in that situation.” The words were bitter ash in her mouth.

  Devesh took her elbow to shift them right to avoid a merchant’s table filled with clockwork toys, then they veered back to stay clear of a pamgari lumbering down the street carrying crates of vegetables.

  He leaned closer, dropping his voice to not be heard by Janak and Seledri close behind them. “You were not a fool, Aniri. You were perhaps… a little naïve.”

  Aniri pushed him away, wren
ching her elbow from his grasp. Janak surged closer. She held a hand up to stay him, then faced forward again.

  Devesh glanced back, then added in the same hushed tone, “It was a credit to you, Aniri. It only meant you hadn’t been corrupted by the cynicism of your mother’s court.” He took a breath. “Somehow you stayed separate from the political machinations and ambitious jostlings, and you were just… you. A girl with a kind and open heart who had lost the father she loved and who wanted no more than to escape all of it. And I took advantage of that for my own gain and for my country’s. That makes me a fairly despicable person, Aniri, but it doesn’t make you anything less than you already were.”

  He stopped speaking and stared earnestly at her. The tears had worked their way back into her eyes, so she avoided his gaze, keeping her head turned to examine the heaped baskets of flowers as they passed a merchant. His words were affecting her more than she wished, and it ran a tremble of fear through her. Devesh had always been able to say exactly what she needed to hear at any given moment. It was what made him so dangerous to her heart.

  “Well.” Aniri cleared her throat and summoned the haughtiness of First Daughter Nahali to her voice. “You needn’t worry about my naiveté any longer.”

  “Aniri.” He touched her elbow again, just briefly. “I am sorry. For all of it.”

  “It would have been more convenient had your regret come a little sooner.”

  “I tried,” he said, pressing both hands to his forehead, then dragging them through his hair. “I didn’t expect… I didn’t plan to…” He took a breath, then pressed on. “When Garesh held that gun to your head, and I could see he had no intention, all along, of letting you live, I realized I hadn’t just tricked you into falling in love. I had tricked myself into believing I hadn’t.”

  She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. “I suppose that came a little late as well.”

  He nodded vigorously, like he had been attempting to convince himself of precisely that. “I know. I know, I’m just saying that…” Then he shook his head, like he wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to say. “I just wanted you to know that was why I helped you escape. Because I realized, too late, that I’d done the one thing I wasn’t supposed to do: fall in love.”

  “You… what?” Anger rendered her speechless for a moment. She didn’t believe his professions of love for one instant, but helping her escape? She turned and vented her full fury at him by impaling his shoulder with jabs of her finger. “Escape? You were the one who held me while Garesh smothered me in vapors. Whatever regrets you have, Dev, you cannot rewrite what happened!”

  He took the onslaught like he welcomed her small assault. Like he deserved it. Which of course he did, but which only angered her further. She wished she could get away with punching him without attracting notice from the street. Instead, she attempted to rein in her fury, taking a breath, turning forward, and picking up their pace. They’d already walked several blocks, and the crowds had begun to thin as they left the main thoroughfares of the city.

  It was foolish to hope for any real answers from him. “If your lies are going to be this transparent,” she said coolly, “I’ll wait to question you under less pleasant circumstances.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” he said quietly. “But I thought, if you knew what happened, maybe someday you would understand.”

  “I understand quite well already.”

  “I mean about what happened on the skyship.” He paused, and Aniri cursed herself inwardly but couldn’t stop from glancing at him. When she did, he held her gaze with a serious look. “Who do you think informed the skyship’s Samirian tinker that the Third Daughter of Dharia was being held in the captain’s quarters?”

  She tried not to react, but she couldn’t help drawing back in surprise. Ash had told her someone from the embassy must have recognized her and informed Karan of her kidnapping. He took it as a sign that she had won the hearts of his people. But what if it wasn’t his people at all, but… she refused to believe it. “That could have been anyone.”

  “Could it?” he asked. “Only a few people knew what had happened to you. I knew the Samirian tinker who had worked so closely with Prince Malik’s brother would be loyal to the prince, if pressed. I knew the right word in his ear would find its way to the crown. I couldn’t be sure of the prince himself, but he had opposed the use of the skyship as an instrument of war from the beginning, so he had every incentive to keep Garesh from starting one, not least by murdering the Third Daughter of Dharia, whom the prince had so artfully convinced to marry him.” The bitterness in Devesh’s voice surged anger in Aniri, but he kept going. “I knew telling Karan would set in motion a plan to rescue you that might actually succeed. And it was all I could do. If I had confronted Garesh while he held you at gunpoint… Aniri, we would have both died in the ambassador’s office that day.”

  She turned forward, her face flush with anger and… some other emotion she didn’t want to examine too closely. She didn’t want to believe him. She berated her heart not to believe a single word, because he had done nothing but lie to her. But belief wormed its way in regardless.

  “I just wanted you to know,” he said softly. Before she could think of something scathing to say in return, he added. “We’re here, Aniri.”

  Devesh brought their small entourage to a stop in front of a shop with a weathered wooden door, but clean windows. Behind the clear glass was a tidy arrangement of coiled ropes, thin-soled leather shoes as well as nailed boots, and an assortment of pitons, slings, and some clockwork devices Aniri couldn’t put a function to.

  Her eyes went wide as she realized: it was a climbing shop.

  If her father had taken up residence in the capital, Aniri could too easily imagine him establishing a climbing shop to blend in with the local population. She glanced over her shoulder to Seledri and Janak behind her. Her sister’s open mouth of disbelief told Aniri she understood, but it was Janak’s stone cold stare at the door that sent her heart pounding.

  Breathless with the possibility that Devesh had actually told her the truth, she quietly asked, “How is it that you know my father?”

  Devesh edged away from Janak’s hard, suddenly interested stare, and swallowed. “As preparation for my mission, I apprenticed for a time with your father. It was intended to glean information about you that might be helpful.”

  A sick feeling climbed the back of her throat. “Did he know? What you were?”

  Devesh stared at his boots. “No. Not until I recently returned.”

  Aniri shook her head, tremors running through her as she stared at the shop. All the why questions came rushing to her at once. Why would her father leave his Queen? Why was the simple life of a shopkeeper so much more desirable than the crown? Was it worth abandoning his three daughters? Was it regret that sent him to seek her out now?

  “He’ll be surprised, but glad, to see you,” Devesh said gently as he reached for the door. A small bell tinkled their arrival, but Aniri remained rooted on the cobblestones outside. The morning sun streaked through the front windows and threw shadows of coiled ropes and other equipment inside the dusky shop. Janak went first, with Seledri shuffling tentatively in behind. Aniri forced her legs to unlock, and she strode into the shop as if the idea of it didn’t terrify her.

  She breathed in the musky scent of braided fiber ropes and oiled leather. It brought a rush of memories tripping back: her father’s voice on their climbs, his hand pointing to toe-holds, his smiling approval when she summited a small boulder that seemed a mountain to her child-sized self.

  Always check your knots, Aniri.

  She could hardly breathe.

  Climbing gear hung on the walls, arranged into orderly groups of ropes and harnesses and leather goods on one side, metalworks on the other, and small islands with climbing shoes displayed in the middle.

  “Just a moment,” a man’s voice called through an open door in back. A scuffle of boots scraped the polished wooden floor, the
n the owner of the voice hurried into the shop from the back room. He was dressed in work breeches and a short leather vest, striding toward them while cleaning something in his hands with a rag.

  “These new crackjacks are a wonder, but the grease leaves quite a—” He was halfway across the shop before he looked up and met Aniri’s wide-eyed stare. He stopped dead in a pool of light, the sun glinting on the turnbuckle device he held while keeping his face in shadow. But she could still see his quick, intelligent eyes, slender nose, and regal features. He was older now, and wore a tightly trimmed beard and mustache that made him seem foreign. More Samirian than Dharian. A sprinkling of gray had turned his midnight-black hair to frosted coal, but he was still unmistakably the serious-faced, handsome man from the ink portrait that sat in her mother’s office. It was the face Aniri had mourned for years and hated for weeks.

  Her father regarded her with awe. “Aniri,” he said, sucking in a breath along with her name. “You are the picture of your mother.” He said it like she was a ghost come back to haunt him, and Aniri felt it like a stab to her chest.

  His gaze roamed over the party, a brief nod to Devesh, a narrowing of eyes for Janak, but when he caught sight of her sister, relief washed over his features. “Seledri! Thank the gods you are all right.” He hurried past Aniri, leaving her gap-mouthed while he rushed to Seledri’s side. He set down the rag and buckle and took her free hand, the one not clutching the aetheroceiver. “I was so afraid the rumors were true.” He paused to take her in. “You’re even more lovely up close.” He seemed embarrassed by that, dropping her hand and stepping back. “I’ve only seen you from afar, and…” He sputtered out.

  Seledri was blinking rapidly, as if she would cry at any moment.

  Janak stepped closer to her. “And perhaps a little distance is in order now.”

  Her father’s gaze swung to Janak and cooled ten degrees. “Janak.”