Chapter 45 Priya
PRIYA
“No,” Raziya said, voice like iron. “Empress, I cannot. My guardswomen will not.”
“You call me empress and still refuse me?” Malini shook her head. “Lady Raziya, I have good reason.”
“Why would you refuse our protection?” Raziya demanded. “The battle to take Harsinghar will be dangerous beyond compare, Empress. Why would you send us to the back of the battlefield to fight like cowards?”
“You saw what a bloodbath took place on the Veri,” said Malini.
“All the more reason to allow us to protect you!” Raziya made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “If you insist on going without the defense we can offer, at least keep Elder Priya by your side in battle.”
Internally, Priya agreed. But for now, she watched with interest, keeping her silence.
Malini shook her head.
“No,” she said. “I have a plan. It isn’t for you to understand it now.”
Raziya’s eyes sharpened with irritation. “Empress,” she began.
“Lady Raziya,” said Malini. “When this war ends, I want your women to train my personal guard. I want guardswomen of my own. And I want to learn how to use a bow with my own two hands.” Priya looked at her hands; those soft, uncallused, cruel hands.
“I spoke to a priest in secrecy,” Malini went on.
“And now I’m telling you, if you are at my side in this war, none of that will come to pass.
If you have faith in the mothers, please, ask me no more. ”
Raziya pursed her lips but finally relented.
The women left, and Priya remained. If anyone thought anything of it, they didn’t say so—though Lady Deepa’s gaze lingered on Priya, curious, before she turned her head and departed.
Malini’s eyes met her own.
“Tell me the truth,” Priya said simply.
“The priests have offered me an alliance,” Malini said. “And Rao has returned to Saketa to advise my brother. I did not lie about that.”
“So they’ll give you their support,” Priya said. “All those priests of the mothers. Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“For nothing in return?” Priya pressed. She knew there was something else here that Malini hadn’t spoken of yet. Raziya had rightly sensed it. They all had.
“Oh, they want something,” Malini said. She went abruptly silent.
In Malini’s position Priya would have paced the floor.
As it was, she could barely keep still. Her body was raw, bright with feeling.
She could have run, or howled, or grown a tree to splinter the soil.
But instead she clutched her own knees and kept her attention on Malini, who looked as brittle as glass, and just as sharp.
The conversation with the priest had clearly shaken her.
Priya waited, and eventually Malini spoke again.
“They want me to burn—willingly,” Malini said.
Priya’s heart gave a thud.
“Malini.”
“I told them I would.” She raised a hand, silencing Priya before Priya could protest, could tell her what foolishness that was.
“I lied, Priya,” she said. “I will never allow myself to burn. But all this—demanding I release the priest who wanted me dead, detouring to this temple, even meeting the so-called faceless son alone—all of it was a test of my willingness to bend to their orders, to do things unthinkingly and obediently. And I have done it. They have every reason to believe me, and every reason to give me their backing in return.” A twist to her mouth.
“They think I’ll make a fine puppet. A good, pure, and righteous puppet. ”
“But why?” Priya asked, bewildered and horrified. “What would your burning give them?”
Malini looked into her eyes.
“Faith is strange, and powerful,” she said. “Think of what was done to you for faith, by your own elders.”
“Passing through the waters did give me power,” Priya pointed out, even as the bitterness of that settled over her.
“And Divyanshi’s burning did bless Parijatdvipa, as did the deaths of all the mothers,” Malini said levelly. “Their belief in the value of my death is—not untrue.”
“That doesn’t make it any less monstrous,” Priya whispered.
“No.” Malini’s eyes finally lowered. “No.”
“I don’t trust your priests,” Priya said. “But then, why would I?”
“I don’t trust my priests.”
Malini swayed, and then exhaled, turning her body so that she was leaning against Priya. It startled Priya, almost, that sudden yielding—the weight of Malini against her, Malini tucking her feet close to her body, resting a hand against Priya’s arm.
“They’ve asked me for another act of faith,” Malini whispered against her skin.
The warmth of her breath, the tightness of her shoulders—all of it made Priya want to curl over her, shield her, hold her like a shell around a vulnerable yolk.
“When we attack Harsinghar I am going to… I am going to fight with all my strength. But if all else fails—if the fire is too much for my army… and I fear it will be… Priya, I’m going to allow myself to be captured. Taken to Chandra.”
“Malini,” Priya said. Heart thudding. “That…”
“I know.”
“It’s a trap. Surely, it’s a trap.”
“I know,” said Malini, voice a little muffled against Priya. “But perhaps it’s not.”
“You’re not the kind of person who takes wild risks,” Priya said, helpless at the thought of it, of Malini handing herself meekly over for slaughter. “What do you even know about this priest?”
“That he has connections and power, and hungers for more,” Malini murmured.
“That he cannot gain more power under Chandra. I remember the priests Chandra raised up—all Parijati by blood and rearing. This faceless son still has a Saketan inflection to his voice. He cannot hide it. That he has nonetheless risen so far shows his ambition. He fears losing his position, but he is willing to do it for the sake of that ambition. And his ideals.”
“Ideals?”
“Oh, he dreams of what Chandra dreams of. A better Parijatdvipa, reshaped by faith. But their understanding of what faith should build—that is different. ‘Better’ for Chandra means a world that fits him and his desires. ‘Better’ for a priest from Saketa… well.” Priya could feel Malini’s smile against her skin—the anger in it. “He will not find that with Chandra.”
“Maybe handing you to Chandra will give him what he wouldn’t get otherwise,” Priya managed. “Malini, I’m no good at politics or the kind of—the games you have to play. But this. You cannot do this—”
“I’ve considered my options,” said Malini. “And this is the best path. We can perhaps—perhaps—take Harsinghar and the throne. But I cannot keep it if the priests of the mothers refuse to serve me. Kartik is the key, Priya, and this is the price he demands of me.”
“You should negotiate with him then. Get a more reasonable price. It’s so clear you’ve never haggled at a market,” Priya added in a mutter.
That coaxed a true, unguarded laugh out of Malini. The sound made Priya’s heart ache.
“That’s the problem. Faith doesn’t allow for negotiation. Only—obedience.”
“I’m a temple elder,” said Priya. “I think I know all about faith. More than you, even. He’s only human. He can be negotiated with.”
There was something Priya couldn’t understand about this—something driving Malini, something making her press her fingers into the fabric that covered Priya’s stomach, her breath soft against Priya’s shoulder.
Malini had made this decision, but Priya was sure there had to be reasons beyond the ones she’d given her.
“You’re not an obedient person,” Priya said, instead of interrogating Malini—instead of trying to pry the real truth out of her.
“No.” Malini was silent for a moment. “You’re going to have to trust that I understand the priests of the mothers,” she said quietly. “You’re going to have to believe that I know their ways, and how to manage them.”
“I know what you are,” said Priya. “I know you understand people. But Malini, this kind of risk…” An exhale. “I’m going to have to have faith, am I?”
“In me? Yes.”
Priya closed her eyes. “I don’t think I like faith very much.” Behind the closed lids of her eyes, in that brief darkness, she saw the sangam, and the yaksa, and felt an echo of fear run through her.
She pushed it away. She couldn’t examine it now.
“And you, a temple elder,” Malini was saying. “An expert on faith!”
“Don’t throw my own words back at me, Malini.”
“Then don’t ask me to change my nature.” There was a hint of a true smile in her voice now.
It made Priya want to see her face, so Priya gave in to the impulse to touch her fingertips to Malini’s cheek.
She moved her hand to Malini’s jaw. Urged her chin up with a light nudge of her fingers. Malini moved easily with her.
Their eyes met. If Priya had thought seeing Malini’s face would give her answers—well. Malini had always been good at hiding what she felt. But there was a tenderness in her eyes, her expression so gentle it made Priya’s heart hurt.
“What do you need from me?” Priya asked. “If you’re going to be foolish—how can I help you?”
“Foolish,” Malini repeated.
“Of course you’re being foolish,” said Priya. “But I can’t stop you. I could try to be captured with you, I suppose, but that’s not what you want, is it?”
Malini’s smile faded.
“I don’t want you with me when I’m taken.
That battle is mine to fight. I want you to stay with the army.
Khalil is canny, and Prakash is experienced.
Narayan has a good sense of how to manage the rifts between the Saketan princes and lords and keep their forces whole.
Between their combined might, we stand a chance of taking Harsinghar.
But our chance is… slim. Chandra is prepared.
He knows my army has been sorely depleted.
He has the unnatural fire. But I… I have you.
” A pause. A breath. “If all else fails—Priya. If there is nothing else to be done, then I must ask you to act. To use what you are and help my army win.” Malini held her tighter—an almost reflexive clench of her fingers on cloth.
“If I die, or I’m lost—at least I’ll know you won’t allow my brother to hold his throne. ”