Second Daughter (The Royals of Dharia, Book Two)

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  That alone was something worth doing.

  Aniri followed Priya across the walkplank onto the skyship.

  She had stopped to change out of her adventuring clothes, wash her face of her self-pitying tears, and put on royal garb befitting a Daughter of Dharia. That was all she could lay claim to now, and it was in that capacity that she tremulously set foot back on the ship to fix some of the damage for which she was responsible.

  The corridors were busy with sailors hurrying down to the lower levels where the engine room lay or bringing fresh supplies and crates of coal on board. Aniri imagined they were readying themselves for duty, should it be called upon them. Which was precisely why she needed to make her amends now, and quickly.

  “Do you think Karan is most likely on the bridge or in the engine room?” Aniri asked Priya.

  “No telling, my lady. He prefers engines, to be sure, but Captain Tarak is still new in his job.”

  “The bridge, then,” Aniri said. “But I’d like Karan to gather the crew, if possible. I have a few words to share. After I speak to Captain Tarak.”

  Priya nodded, and Aniri was glad she didn’t press for what those words might be. She wasn’t at all sure herself. She only knew she needed to right things before they flew into battle over Jungali or were faced with risking their lives to defend Dharia. Aniri and Priya weaved past the sailors hurrying to their duties, garnering a few backward looks, but mostly undeterred until they reached the bridge.

  Karan and Captain Tarak were both there, standing next to a giant brass horn.

  “What do ye mean?” Karan’s voice boomed into the horn, each word slow and well pronounced. “The starboard turbine’s brand new out of Sik province.”

  He waited a moment, then a tinny voice came from the depths of it. “Aye, sir! But it’s not starting all the same.”

  “Perhaps we took some damage during the extended flights to Samir,” Captain Tarak reasoned. “We never shut them down in Samir while waiting to hear from you. I don’t think you designed them to run and run like that, aye?”

  Karan sighed. “Aye.” He finally caught sight of Aniri and Priya standing at the threshold of the bulkhead door to the bridge. His smile was warm for Priya, less so for Aniri.

  She would have to apologize to him as well. “Is this a bad time, Karan?”

  “Well, I suppose that depends on how ye mean it, fresh.” He sighed. “It’s a right miserable time for the starboard turbine to be having a bellyache. We’re doing our best to get the ship ready for any orders that might be coming down from the prince.”

  She nodded. “I understand. I just need a quick word with Captain Tarak, if that’s all right.”

  Captain Tarak stiffened as she said his name. His gaze darted between Karan and Aniri, and she felt sure she was terrorizing him with the threat of a royal inquisition.

  Karan arched his eyebrows and glanced at Tarak. “I need to make a run to engines anyway, Captain.”

  “Of course, Mr. Karan.” Tarak swallowed, clearly wishing that Karan wouldn’t leave at all. “You are relieved.”

  Karan sighed and strode across the width of the bridge. As he passed Aniri and Priya, he said quietly, “Go easy on him, fresh.”

  That they both thought she was here to chastise Tarak made her chest tight. She needed to do better than inspire fear in the people serving Prince Malik and Jungali. Aniri tilted her head to Priya to have her follow after her betrothed and explain that Aniri wanted to have a word with the crew as well. Her handmaiden stepped lightly after Karan, who waited for her once he knew she was following. They disappeared down the corridor, but Aniri could already hear Priya’s whispered explanations.

  Aniri faced Tarak, who stood clutching the rim of the bell horn like he might fall down without it. “Your majesty.” His voice wavered slightly. The light glinted off the two, small brass bars on his collar that signified his rank.

  She stepped closer, and his body grew even more rigid. “I’ve come to understand that you’ve been sending coded messages to the prince.”

  “Those were my orders, my lady.” His words were as strung tight as his body.

  “Can I assume you’ve told him everything that happened in Samir, at least the parts you had knowledge of?” She needed to make sure she understood exactly what had happened.

  “Yes, my lady.” A muscle started twitching in Tarak’s cheek.

  She gave him a small smile. “Thank you for doing that, Captain Tarak.”

  The tension in his body released in a gush. “My lady?”

  She pressed her hands together and made a small bow to him. “Thank you for keeping the prince informed as he should be. I have to apologize for putting you in the position of having to deliver such uncomfortable news to him. And doubly so for carrying the burden of apprising him of my whereabouts when you were left to tend the skyship on your own. I should have been more forthright with the prince all along the way, but especially on the return home.”

  Captain Tarak’s eyebrows were fixed high on his forehead. “You’re apologizing? To me?” He clearly thought the reverse would be required to keep his position. Or possibly his head.

  “Yes. It’s a belated apology, and somewhat embarrassing, but yes.” Aniri sighed. “I made a mistake, Captain Tarak. Several mistakes, truth be told, but the worst among them was allowing a Samirian courtesan to kiss me in front of a Jungali crew who were risking their lives to rescue two Daughters of Dharia. Especially when one was betrothed to their prince.”

  Captain Tarak frowned. She suspected he noticed her use of the past tense.

  “Have you ever made a mistake, Captain Tarak?”

  “Aye, my lady.” His look softened. “Mr. Karan is always telling us what matters is what we make of them.”

  Aniri smiled. “Mr. Karan is a very wise man.”

  “I tend to agree, my lady.” He looked less terrified now, more calm and confident, the way he did during their trip to Samir, when he was instructing her in the use of the star navigator. Aniri decided he would make a fine captain after all. In spite of his youth.

  “The crew needs to be confident in their prince and their cause,” she said. “And they need it before they’re called into a duty more harrowing and dangerous than flying into a field to rescue some wayward Daughters. Captain Tarak, can I count on your help with setting this right?”

  He gave a small bow. “It would be my honor, your majesty.”

  “I had hoped to have a word with your crew. Where would be best place to do so?”

  “The galley is probably fit, at least for the crew on hand,” he said. “Some are already on leave, but set to return on the morrow.”

  “Well, they will miss all the fun, then,” she said ruefully. “Hopefully their crewmates will pass along the word about the Third Daughter of Dharia and her mistakes.”

  “I think it will have just that effect, my lady.” He regarded her anew. “That is your intent, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She swept out a hand. “If you would, Captain Tarak. I don’t wish to keep you from your duties any longer than necessary.”

  He gave her a short nod then led her from the bridge.

  They didn’t speak along the way to the galley. Tarak stopped each sailor they passed and told them to gather the others. Aniri’s heart started to pound with the nervousness—not of admitting her errors, but of finding the right words to bolster the crew. She didn't want rumors of her to distract them from their duties, which would no doubt be critical in the days ahead, for both Jungali and Dharia.

  When they arrived in the galley, Karan and Priya were already there, along with a contingent of blue-uniformed crew who had filled the few tables and started to line the walls. Karan’s face was alight with curiosity, although Priya must have already told him Aniri’s intent.

  She swept a look around the room. It was a tight space, growing tighter as more crew filtered in. And her slight stature wasn’t a help in ensuring she would be seen and heard. She made straight for a table
in the center, sturdy with wooden legs and benches around it. The sailors there immediately stood, clearing a path for her to sit. Instead, she lifted her formal skirts to avoid tripping and, with a bit of balancing, managed to climb on top of the table.

  There were maybe twenty sailors all told surrounding her, eyes large and questioning.

  She waited a moment longer, as a few more stumbled in, before she began. “You have important duties to attend, so I won’t keep you long.” She took a breath to steady her nerves. “First, I want to thank you for your service in helping to bring my sister, the Second Daughter, out of Samir. As you saw by the muskets they trained on us as we departed, there was grave danger to her life all along. Indeed a plot within the royal house of Samir is, at this very moment, posing a threat to the stability of all our countries.”

  She paused to let that sink in and hoped she wasn’t revealing state secrets that would haunt her. But she felt they had a right to know the stakes for which they might be called to fight.

  “Second, I want to apologize for the unseemly gratitude I showed to one of our Samirian rescuers. I realize now how that might be misunderstood to be something more than it was, and I regret putting you in the position of bearing that unfortunate news back to Jungali.”

  The sailors shifted in place, some sharing knowing glances, others staring at their feet. Captain Tarak was the one who brought the news directly to Ash, but only because he knew, as she could see now, that once they arrived, the rumors would fly through the city faster than a skyship. And perhaps they already had, even within the short time they had been on the ground. Murmurs began to swell up in her silence, so she began again.

  “My greatest regret, however, isn’t the unfortunate kiss of a Samirian courtesan. It’s that I didn’t keep Prince Malik as well advised of our mission as I could have. I failed to give him my full confidence when I had every reason to. Your prince is an extraordinary man. He is selfless and noble. The people of Dharia, as I know well, have long held biases against the mountain peoples, but I can tell you with assurance—there is no man I know more honorable than Prince Malik. He would give his life for any one of you. I should know—he ran into a burning room to save me, a Dharian not even yet his wife. He would do no less for the people of the country he loves.”

  She paused this time because she felt the tears working their way back, and she couldn’t afford that in front of Ash’s people. His skyship crew. The people upon which they may all depend.

  “So, I beg of you to not let any of my mistakes distract you from your purpose: defending Jungali and a prince who has earned your trust and your loyalty. There may be difficult days ahead.” She swept a slow look around the room, trying to meet each of their gazes, to impress upon them the gravity of her words. “And in those days, your service to Jungali will make all the difference in bringing about the peace your prince has long worked for. Please show him that he can count on you.”

  She hesitated a moment, but there were no more words she could think to say. Taking hold of her skirts, she attempted to make a graceful exit from the table. A half-dozen hands suddenly held her by the arms and steadied her back. A snapping of fingers rose up and filled the galley with an applause she certainly didn’t deserve. Shame flushed her face, but she managed a smile of gratitude to her helpers as well as the rest when they settled her to the floor. She pressed her hands together for a quick bow before striding from the room. From the corners of her eyes, she caught several sailors bowing in response.

  Before she got far down the corridor, and just as she was pulling in a deep breath of relief, she felt Karan’s large presence at her side, catching up.

  “That was a fine speech, fresh.” For once, his tone wasn’t mocking her.

  “I only hope it effects its purpose and allays the impact of my mistakes,” she said. “Your skyship crew can ill afford them going forward.”

  “Aye.” Karan stopped in the hall, and Aniri halted with him. “And here I thought you were come to take the captain’s chair from Tarak for your own.”

  She looked at him like he was crazed, and then realized he was speaking in jest. A breathless huff of laughter escaped her. “Not hardly, Mr. Karan.” But her smile banished the tears that had been threatening before.

  He smirked, then ducked his head. “I’ve a turbine that needs tending to.”

  “And I’ve other apologies yet to make.”

  She turned to go, but his hand at her elbow brought her back.

  “It’s going to be fine, fresh.” His small smile was meant to be reassuring, but it only pained her heart. Priya must have told him the truth about Ash, even though Aniri herself hadn’t yet said anything direct about it to anyone. Nor would she, until forced.

  “Only as long as you get your ship in the air and ready, Mr. Karan.”

  “Aye, my lady.” He gave a short nod and turned to head toward the engine room.

  Aniri smiled at his retreating back.

  She was quite certain he had never called her my lady before.

  Aniri waited for Priya outside the skyship. Her handmaiden had some short business to discuss with Karan, probably making plans for their own wedding, now that Aniri’s no longer presented any danger of happening.

  Aniri closed her eyes, drew in a breath, and forced her thoughts elsewhere.

  The sailors would spread the word of her apology, but it might not be enough. Rumors had a way of running faster than the truth that followed behind them. Especially when the truth was less tantalizing than misplaced kisses and broken promises. She would have to do more to counter it. How exactly, she had no idea.

  “My lady, are you well?” Priya’s voice came from her side.

  Aniri’s eyes snapped open. “Just thinking, Priya. It takes all my effort sometimes.”

  Priya smirked, looped her arm around Aniri’s, and tugged her across the stone terrace of the skyship’s makeshift dock. “My lady is far more clever than she believes. She has single-handedly squashed the most powerful rumor engine known to all three Queendoms.”

  “Handmaidens?”

  Priya gave her an offended look. “Jungali sailors.”

  “Of course.” Aniri grinned, and it calmed her heart in a way only her handmaiden seemed to manage.

  They reached the stairs and pattered down the one flight to the top level of the estate. Hers and Priya’s room was close, around the first bend in the slowly curving hallway.

  “What are my lady’s plans now? If she’s willing to share—” Priya cut herself off as they rounded the bend. Aniri looked to see what had caused it.

  Ash stood in front of her door, hand raised to knock. He hesitated, went to knock again, then stopped. He caught sight of them and dropped his hand. He pressed his two hands together as they approached.

  “Arama, Aniri.” He bowed as well. “Priya.”

  Aniri simply stared.

  Priya squeaked, then quickly said, “I’ve much unpacking to do.” She practically slammed into the door in her haste to get past it and leave them alone.

  Aniri found her breath, but still had no words. “Ash.” She couldn’t help looking over her shoulder, wondering if he somehow had divined what she had been doing on the skyship. It didn’t appear so, with the deeply scowled look on his face. At least, she hoped she hadn’t unknowingly done something to anger him further.

  “Aniri, you rushed out—” He stopped. “I didn’t have a chance… that is…”

  It tormented her to see him so uncertain.

  He cleared his throat. “I wanted to tell you that I would wait to make any announcements until you’re on your way to Dharia. I don’t want you to…” He struggled again, dropping his gaze to his boots. “I don’t mean for you to suffer any discomfort. I thought it would be easier for you if we waited.” He looked up again. “But I neglected to say anything—” This time he stopped because he spied something over her shoulder.

  She glanced back to see Ash’s sister-in-law Nisha hurrying down the hallway, her royal J
ungali blue gown sweeping the floor. She looked dressed for tea but her pretty face was marred with fury. Aniri’s heart seized. She hadn’t even thought of telling Nisha, who had welcomed her to the family like a sister from the start.

  Aniri turned back to Ash, eyes wide.

  If it was possible, he seemed even more panicked than she felt. “Is that agreeable to you, Aniri?” he said in a hush, quickly flicking looks to the fast approaching Nisha.

  “Yes, of course,” Aniri said, just as fast and low.

  Ash hastily pressed his hands together, bowed, and fled in the opposite direction.

  Aniri forced a smile onto her face that must look a horror, then turned to face Nisha.

  She scowled disapproval at Ash’s retreating back. “What is this I hear?” Nisha demanded. “These ridiculous rumors about a kiss? What is going on?”

  The urge to deny it welled up in Aniri. To retreat into saying that it meant nothing, that it was just Devesh taking advantage of her, but she knew Nisha would understand even better than her that none of that mattered. She was far too sensitive to the temper of her people, and it was no surprise that the rumors reached her first.

  Aniri took a deep breath. “My ex-lover was one of the Samirians who helped us escape. He kissed me just before we left. In full view of everyone on the ground and in the air.”

  The anger dropped off Nisha’s face, and she blinked. “You’re saying the kiss actually happened? I thought… I was sure someone else had spitefully started that awful rumor.” Her disbelief was quickly turning to disgust, and Aniri didn’t want her to get too far down that path.

  “It was a mistake, Nisha. I shouldn’t have allowed it. Or I should have explained right away that it meant nothing. To me, at least. I should have messaged Ash. He should have heard it from me first. That mistake has already cost—” She stopped herself. Ash didn’t want to make any announcements until after she left, which she could understand. She believed him when he said he wanted to spare her. But it also would be hard on him. It was impossibly awkward already, and no one yet knew, except Priya. And possibly Karan.