Second Daughter (The Royals of Dharia, Book Two)

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  “Depends on which secrets you want me to be keepin’.” He crossed his arms and cocked his head. “Is this about the boy?”

  Aniri balled up her hands then shook them out. “There is nothing to that, Karan.”

  He still looked unconvinced.

  Aniri discarded her plan to tell him about her father, and Devesh, and Pavan, and the whole sordid, complicated, and ultimately shameful tale. He would just have to trust that the source was credible, something they needed to take seriously. “This is a secret that… I can’t tell you how I know. But I have good reason to believe there isn’t just a single skyship the Samirians are attempting to build. That they may, in fact, have an armada.”

  Karan choked, letting his arms unfold and fall to his sides. When he gained his composure again, he said, “How sure are you of this, fresh?”

  “Sure enough that we need to return as quickly as possible to Jungali to warn Ash.”

  “A whole fleet of them?” Karan rubbed his face, obviously still absorbing what that meant. “How could they have gassed ‘em all?”

  “That’s what I was going to ask you. Is it possible they’ve found another source for the navia gas? Or a way to manufacture it? Did you see any indications in the city of work of that kind?”

  He frowned, thinking now. “They’d need the right processors to break it open, crush and heat it until the gas released. That’s no standard naval ship equipment.” He shook his head. “But I didn’t have time to scour the city. They could have a whole manufacturing plant in the industrial district, and I coulda missed it.”

  Her shoulders drooped. “Then I guess we’ll have to assume it’s possible.”

  “The key would be the navia ore itself. Ye can’t conjure gas if you don’t have the rock. And I’ve not heard of any special mines of newly discovered ore. But once they knew of the navia, from working with the Jungali, there’s no reason they couldn’t set some tinkers about to find some in Samir. If only to keep their edge, you see.”

  “I’m afraid that’s precisely what’s happened.”

  “But if they’ve a fleet, why not deploy it?” Karan asked. “Especially now, with the Prosperity afloat and armed?”

  “They must not be ready,” Aniri said. “Or perhaps they are waiting for the right provocation.”

  He gave her a sharp look. “Such as?”

  “Such as making off with their Queen-to-be and future heir.”

  He glanced at the bridge. “You think they could be after us even now?”

  She held her hands out, palm up. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “The prince needs to know of this.”

  “And I don’t think I can message him. It’s too sensitive.”

  Karan gave her a short nod. “I’ll see what we can do to gain some speed as well as altitude, maybe catch a full wind back to Jungali. In case they decide to try to take us in the air.”

  “Thank you, Karan.” The tension in her shoulders stepped down a notch.

  He turned to hurry back to the bridge, then stopped. “And fresh.”

  “Yes?”

  “Ye should message the prince. About something, even if not the fleet. He’s had a rack of messages coming with no response from ye.”

  She winced. “I will, Karan. I promise.”

  He gave her a small smile and retreated in heavy footfalls to the bridge.

  The railing was smooth under her hand as she slowly walked the ship, debating what she should or shouldn’t say over the aetheroceiver. Finding no good solution, she opted to head to the galley. Janak was there, just as Karan had said, already tapping out and transcribing messages. A pile of curled tapes lay next to the unfolded aetheroceiver. Its clacking and whirring filled the empty room. The crew must be already at their stations or bunked down for the next rotation. Aniri slid into the seat across from him and waited until he was done.

  The blood had dried on his face, leaving a jagged red line and deep red smears down to the black of his raksaka uniform. The dark color hid the stain of his blood well. Janak’s eyes were pinched and tired, and she wondered again if he had sustained injuries he hadn’t told her about. She resolved not to ask, knowing it would only serve to annoy him.

  “Messages from the prince?” she asked when he finally looked up.

  “And the Queen. They’ve been rather anxiously awaiting our replies while we were chasing ghosts in Samir.”

  Aniri peered at him. “Are you going to tell her, Janak?”

  Janak shuffled the slips, as if looking for one, but she was sure he was simply avoiding her scrutiny. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Janak, my father could be in the Second Son’s custody.”

  He winced, like he was holding back his words. “Tariq chose sides long ago.” He looked up, his coal-black eyes a cold fury. “He chose the wrong one.”

  She nodded. “He left us. He abandoned his Queen and his three Daughters.”

  Janak’s eyes widened slightly. “He’s not worthy of bringing back into her life.”

  “And I don’t want that any more than you,” Aniri rushed to say. “But the Queen should know.”

  Janak pushed back from the table in a motion so quick it ruffled some of the aetheroceiver strips into the air. He stood, feet planted apart, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave in a huff of anger or rebuke her some more.

  Aniri stood as well. “Janak, she won’t go back to him.”

  “Of course she will, Aniri.” He clipped his words, but there was pain underneath that tore into her. “She loves him, and if she had any idea that the Second Son of Samir was holding him prisoner…” He stopped, anger stealing his words.

  “Exactly why we must be the ones to tell her.” Aniri edged toward him, hands out in conciliation. “Don’t you see how vulnerable that will make her? The King or the Second Son, whoever is pulling the strings, is undoubtedly involved in the skyship fleet as well. And they will use the knowledge of her long-lost husband to their best advantage. Devesh said my father is likely still alive because he has strategic value to them, and I don’t think he’s wrong.”

  Janak curled up a fist and pressed it to the low bulkhead of the galley. “They will use it against her.”

  “As they have always intended.”

  Janak squeezed his eyes shut, as if in pain.

  Aniri couldn’t stop herself. She slid closer and touched his shoulder lightly, bringing his eyes open. “Are you wounded, Janak?”

  The sharp angles of his face softened, and his eyes begged her not to ask that of him.

  She gave him a small smile. “I meant a wound of the body, not the heart. I’ve worried for you this entire trip.” Aniri glanced to the strips of paper. “I imagine the Queen has as well. For you, for her Daughters.” She looked back into his eyes. “My mother is strong, even alone. Now she will have all her Daughters and her most favored companion—you—by her side. She can withstand any news then. And far better for her to hear from us. We have to, Janak.”

  He gave a nod so small it was almost imperceptible.

  “I will do it with you.” Aniri strode over to the aetheroceiver strips. “For now, we’ll give her what comfort we can via these messages.”

  Janak pulled in a breath and joined her at the table.

  “I would worry more about what comfort you can give the prince.”

  Aniri looked sharply at him. “Did everyone see that kiss?”

  “I imagine the gossip is already flying back to Jungali.”

  She balled up her fists and pressed them to her forehead. “Janak—”

  “I know,” he cut her off. “You don’t have to convince me it meant less than nothing. But then I’ve known all along the courtesan wasn’t worthy of you.”

  Aniri’s mouth fell open, and she nearly put her arms around Janak. “Perhaps I can threaten to send my raksaka against all who would gossip against me.” She was only partially speaking in jest.

  At that moment, her handmaiden skittered into the room. “My l
ady!” Priya cried.

  She launched from the entrance of the galley, and Aniri was nearly bowled over by the force of her hug. Her handmaiden pulled back and inspected her, head to foot, as if she expected to find grievous wounds. For once, Aniri was mostly intact.

  “I was beside myself with worry.” Then her voice turned chastising. “This habit of yours of running off…”

  Aniri’s eyebrows flew up, and Priya covered her mouth with her hand, as if she couldn’t believe the words had escaped her. Aniri very nearly laughed, then she remembered Seledri’s handmaiden stone cold on her lady’s bed. She exchanged a look with Janak. Priya didn’t know what had actually happened to Seledri’s handmaiden. Nor did she need to.

  Aniri pulled her into a hug. “You are quite the welcome sight, Priya.”

  When she released her handmaiden, Priya ducked her head shyly. “My lady, Princess Seledri awaits in your room. She hasn’t brought a handmaiden with her, so I’ve been attending her.”

  “Thank you for taking care of her,” Aniri said, then cast a look at the pile of unreturned messages from Ash. “I will compose a proper reply soon. After I check on Seledri.”

  Janak frowned but didn’t object as Priya towed Aniri from the room.

  “Why can I think of nothing to say?” Aniri asked her sister. Aniri’s hands were full with Ash’s aetheroceiver messages.

  She and her sister sat on opposite bunks in Aniri’s small cabin. The skyship occasionally bumped over some disturbance in the air, but otherwise the ride was smooth. They had many hours of travel yet before they reached Jungali, and nothing but worries to fill them. Not only might Samir be armed with skyships, they were likely to have a fleet of them. The crown was embroiled in a fight between the brothers which seemed destined to spill into a war to settle it. And her beautiful sister had been forced to flee from a country and a man she had finally grown to love. Aniri’s relatively frivolous concern about what response to give her future husband for all his unanswered slips of paper seemed silly by comparison.

  But it would distract Seledri, and the crying had been more than Aniri could stand.

  Her sister was propped with an abundance of pillows on the too-thin cot, resting with her feet up. Her face was no longer red or streaked with tears, but Aniri knew her good humor covered a heart torn into pieces.

  Seledri adjusted one of the pillows. “Perhaps you can take the messages one by one and send him a reply for each.”

  “There would be no sense to it.” Aniri held up one and read it aloud. “ANIRI: PLEASE VERIFY SISTER’S CONDITION. And TARAK: ANXIOUSLY AWAIT WORD ON THE THIRD DAUGHTER. And this one: TARAK: ADVICE REGARDING NEED FOR SUPPORT. He was on the verge of sending troops to Samir in search of me.”

  “Tell him you were madly coding aetheroceiver messages whilst on the run from assassins and ill-tempered shopkeepers, but that Samir has poor aether and the messages refused to go through.”

  Aniri was glad her sister’s humor was returning. She encouraged it with a deadpan look. “This is serious, Seledri.”

  “I agree,” Seledri said with a smile. “Demanding husbands are quite serious business.”

  In truth, Aniri was in serious need of advice. Her shoulders drooped for real. “Oh Seledri, this isn’t the right time to ask you for advice about husbands. But I’m very much in need of it.”

  Seledri’s smile faded. “I might know a thing or two about them. They’re very complicated beasts, and not always forthcoming when they ought to be.”

  Aniri gave a small smile before dropping her gaze to the messages. She lined them up in a row like soldiers on the cot. “I know you came to love Pavan in a different way. A slower way.” She looked up. “But my romance with Ash feels like a whirlwind buried in a storm on top of a hurricane. We’re constantly involved in one adventure or another, with war always threatening. Isn’t it natural to be hesitant in the face of that? Or is it a sign that, perhaps, I’m making a terrible mistake?”

  Seledri frowned and sat up straighter, adjusting her cushions to make a small nest around her. “Is this about Devesh?”

  “No!” Aniri scattered the neat row of Ash’s unanswered messages. “That kiss was nothing. It was Devesh taking advantage of a moment, as he is wont to do.”

  Seledri’s eyebrows hiked up. “There was a kiss?”

  Aniri shook her head in disbelief. “You didn’t see? I think you must be the only one in that meadow, on the ground or in the air, who did not.” She crossed her arms and slumped against the wall abutting her cot. It was childish, she knew, but she was tired of the effects of rumors and politics tossing her around and controlling her life. She couldn’t imagine how Seledri had endured it and still remained as fair-tempered as she was all these years. Her respect for her sister grew even larger.

  “So, Devesh kissed you goodbye?” Seledri asked carefully.

  “Yes.”

  “And it meant nothing.”

  “To me,” Aniri said, still huffing frustration. “To him, I can’t be sure. He’s been lying to me from the beginning.”

  Seledri nodded her head. “What are you going to tell Ash?”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” But Aniri’s face flushed at the thought of it.

  Seledri sighed.

  Aniri ignored the chastising look on her sister’s face and picked up the transcripted aetheroceiver messages again, one by one, making a small stack of them in her hand. “I’m tired of the politics. I don’t wish for the crown. I never have. But I find myself in love with a prince who is vastly more noble than me, who keenly knows the temper of his people, and who seemingly knows everything about how to run a Queendom. Who, by every natural right, should be King even without a Queen by his side. I, on the other hand…” She looked up from her neatly piled notes. “I excel at worrying the people I love, upsetting the political calm, and, apparently, I can’t even say goodbye to my ex-lover without causing an international incident.”

  Seledri chuckled. “You, little sister, do have a talent for stirring up things.”

  “I have a talent for foolishness.” She tossed the notes onto her cot again. They fell like withered leaves from a dying plant. “And now, when we arrive back to Jungali, there will be war on the horizon and ever more reason for Jungali and Dharia to be allied. Ever more reason for the marriage to cement that alliance. And all I can think is how part of me wants to run away, just as our father did. Even knowing about his cowardice and how he abandoned us for his lover. Ash, on the other hand, is always steadfast. Loyal. He tends to his country and prepares for war while I’m off stoking the engines of it.” She paused, then looked up. “He’s a better man than I deserve, Seledri. Perhaps I should have run off with Dev. Not because I love him—I did once, although now I see he’s really just a boy trapped in a web of lies and politics—but because Dev’s foolish. Just like our father.” Aniri dropped her gaze to her hands, which were now busy with slowly rolling the strips into tiny rings. “Just like me.”

  Seledri didn’t say anything, and when Aniri looked up again, she saw her sister gingerly walking across the floor, toting a pillow with her. She settled onto Aniri’s cot and clasped Aniri’s hand in hers. “Now you listen to me, little sister. You are just as noble as any prince from Jungali, not because you are a Daughter of Dharia, or even because you are my sister, and therefore automatically imbued with great royal character.”

  A small smile forced its way onto Aniri’s lips.

  “But because,” Seledri said, “you do bravely foolish things like rescue your sister from a country bent on killing her. And foolishly brave things like running off to the barbarian mountains to discover their secrets only to win their prince’s heart. And, not least of all, you are the only one who can put First Daughter Nahali in her place, and for that, you should rule any Queendom you choose.”

  Aniri’s smile grew, and she squeezed her sister’s hand. “You should have seen her at the rehearsal. She was in rare form.”

  “You should consider sending her on a
skyship tour during the wedding.”

  Aniri chuckled. “That could possibly be a treaty-breaking offense.”

  “There will be treaties, and wars, and all manner of politics and other calamities.” Seledri waved her hands around as if conjuring these things out of thin air. “Devkasera herself cannot prevent it. But you, my dear, sweet, sister, have man who loves you. A worthy man. And now that I can be in attendance, I insist that you forget about everything and anything else, and marry the man you love before fate leaves you on a ship, carrying his child and sailing away into the sky without him.”

  Aniri nodded through tears beginning to torment her eyes.

  Seledri glanced at the notes lying scattered on the bed. “And perhaps you should send him a note telling him your intent to do so.”

  Aniri scooped up the notes, kissed her sister on the cheek, and hurried from the room in search of Janak and the aetheroceiver. Her heart had finally found just the words she needed to send through that cold device to tell her prince she was coming home.

  WAS HORRIBLY DELAYED SORRY FOR WORRIES BE HOME SOON

  She hoped the message would tell Ash everything she couldn’t with prying eyes and the awkward too-long delay in aetheroceiver transmissions. As soon as she arrived, she vowed to tell him everything, including her worries, the reasons for her silence, and all the contents of her heart.

  Meanwhile, Priya had made do with the limited supplies on board to make Aniri presentable again. She was still in adventuring clothes, but she thought Ash might even prefer those. She gave as little thought to such matters as possible, so she hadn’t really noticed if he had a preference before, but given that most of the time they had truly spent together had been in one adventure or another, it seemed a natural choice.

  The skyship slowly descended, sinking through clouds tinged pink with the morning sun. The sky was calm and clear on their way down to the highest tower of Ash’s palace. Her palace. She needed to stop thinking of herself as an outsider. A guest. This was going to be her home. And she had fallen in love with more than just its prince—the mountainscape was breathtaking from the air, snow-tipped mountains rosy with a kiss of sun. The domed towers and white-granite walls of the estate perched on the very edge of a thousand-foot cliff. It was an exotic mix of beauty and danger that beat through all the mountain cities and hearts of Jungali. Including hers.