Chapter 24
He did say yes.
As soon as he and Nikith had come to an agreement, Aru had summoned the pandits, and they’d set our wedding date before my brother-in-law even returned.
The choice had been relatively easy since the pandits had found only two favorable days: one in three months and the other in sixteen.
Three months seemed impossibly rushed, but Aru proclaimed that he could not possibly be made to wait for more than a year.
Nikith knew that Ullal needed the money and resources our marriage would bring, so he’d agreed to set the wedding on the earlier date.
Ullal exploded with celebration when the news spread.
The marketplace burst with goods for sale—heaping mounds of spices, bolts of colorful cloth, and sparkling jewels filled the stalls.
The sound of chatter and haggling mixed with the scents of the spices and the constant movement of shoppers and children running with reckless abandon all combined to create an uproarious cacophony.
I relished it. This was the sound of recovery.
It was a vast improvement over the muted solemnity that had haunted Ullal for the last few months.
Hearing the din as I walked through the marketplace was far more reassuring than any fact or figure that Nikith could show me.
Not that it stopped him. He happily met me for our midday meals with mountains of scrolls proving that Ullal’s commerce had exploded since my engagement.
The surrounding nations had understood the strength of an alliance between us and Banghervari and were quick to try to show their allyship with gifts and improved trade relationships.
Thevan was far less impressed. He’d been on edge since Nikith’s return, insisting that it was because I was in greater danger than ever. He assigned an increasingly large number of guards to accompany me every time I went out and would brook no argument when I protested.
Today, he led the six guards that accompanied me into town, and people hurried out of the way as he approached. Thevan didn’t really give them a choice; it was move or be moved.
Chaaya followed behind me. She blended into the marketplace as she trod noiselessly in my shadow.
Most people would undoubtedly assume I’d come into town to see Chetan about the flowers for my wedding, which was less than a month away.
Nobody would guess that the small woman trailing me was actually the reason we had come this morning.
Parushi, who was in the group of guards up front, stepped up to speak with Thevan. I’d kept her at a distance since her return from Banghervari, but she’d insisted that she needed to come as a part of my guard today, and Thevan had relented.
Now they leaned together in deep conversation as we walked. Finally, Thevan gave a nod, and Parushi fell back to me.
“You can’t avoid me forever,” she said. “If you have something to say, just say it.”
“I’m not avoiding you.” I kept my focus ahead.
Parushi snorted. “I never thought you a coward.”
I knew she was goading me, but I couldn’t ignore her barb.
“Have you considered that perhaps I haven’t spoken to you because I have nothing more to say?
Your . . . situation . . . is one of many that I must handle.
That I have handled. You may remain here so long as your secrets don’t cause me any more trouble. ”
Parushi pursed her lips. “It wasn’t my secret. It was my mother’s and the ra—I mean, my father’s. I had no choice but to keep it.”
There were too many ears here for me to speak openly. “If nobody else had known, that might have been true. But other people knew. And they tried to exploit a weakness I didn’t even know I had.”
“Yes,” Parushi said softly. “But there was no perfect solution.”
“Your ‘solution’ left me vulnerable. So long as you’re here, I’m less safe.”
“That’s not true! I have always kept you safe! How many times have I fought by your side? And I tried to warn you about Shalini. I told you not to trust her.”
She was right. Parushi had warned me, and she glared at me now with indignation snapping in her black eyes.
“So long as I am by your side,” Parushi said, “I will always do everything I can to keep you safe. I have no interest in being anything more than a soldier.”
I said nothing as we kept walking, but I didn’t dismiss her either.
Parushi had only ever wanted the same thing that I did: to serve Ullal with Ektha as our rani.
But now that position was mine, whether I wanted it or not.
Just as she had been born the daughter of a raja, whether she wanted it or not.
While I couldn’t hold the actions of others against her, we also needed to make sure their actions wouldn’t cause me any harm.
We. I had already begun to trust Parushi to keep me safe again.
I gave her a nod. “Then you best stay by my side.”
Parushi’s shoulders relaxed and she kept pace with me, but she maintained the extra space between us as we continued forward.
After my thoughts settled, I couldn’t help but notice the buzzing energy of the marketplace.
A royal visit always caused a bit of a stir, especially with my wedding in less than a moon, but this was something different.
People huddled together in groups and bowed respectfully as we passed but then returned their attention to whatever they were discussing before.
We passed the fabric merchant’s stall, and it was practically bursting at the seams. Most people were ignoring the cloth, but for some reason, the merchant didn’t seem to mind.
I tried to get Thevan’s attention to see if he had noticed too, but he kept his eyes forward and refused to look back at me.
Soon, we arrived at Chetan’s stall. The young man out front scrambled into the shop when he saw me, stopping only to grab the large basket of flowers at his feet.
A few of the guards followed him inside to ensure we would have privacy.
They nodded at Thevan as they came out with Chetan close behind.
Chetan bowed deeply. “Welcome, Rani. You honor my humble shop.”
“Your humility does not change the fact that you have the best flowers in all of Ullal.” I made sure the people around us could hear my compliments.
If Chetan had bothered to write to his sister and request that I come here, he must have information for me—sensitive information that he had chosen to share.
It served me well to thank him both with my coin and my compliments so others would be encouraged to give him their business.
Chetan smiled widely and waited for us to enter, bowing deeply as I passed and giving his sister’s hand a small squeeze when she walked by.
The shop looked as it always had, filled to the brim with every flower you could possibly imagine—and some you would never have dreamed of—displayed in clusters and garlands.
Time had stood still here, except for one thing: On the wall behind Chetan’s stool there was now a large portrait of my uncle with a fresh white floral garland draped in a graceful U that dipped below the lower edge of the painting.
“Would you like to sit, Rani?” Chetan asked, gesturing at the tallest chair in the room.
I couldn’t hide my wry smile as I sat down. No need to trick him into giving me this seat anymore. Now, it was offered.
“I came to discuss the flowers for my gajra.” I started the conversation, trusting that Chetan would guide it in the right direction when he was certain nobody was listening. “I want to finalize the design and make sure Chaaya knows exactly how to arrange it on my hair.”
“Of course.” Chetan clapped, and the gangly young man who had alerted him to our presence positively bounded into the room. “Go get the jasmine I showed to Adesh but bring the crossandra and barleria as well.”
As the young man sprinted out, Chetan pulled up a chair and sat down across from me.
“I must apologize. We were just commissioned for another wedding. Nowhere near as important as yours, of course, but unexpected and happening rather quickly. Adesh, the textile merchant a few stalls down, has announced the engagement of his daughter.”
“We will have to congratulate him as we return to the fort.” That explained the crowd around the stall. But why would Chetan call me to chat about the wedding of a merchant?
“I’m sure he would be honored,” Chetan said. “Especially since his soon-to-be son-in-law used to work in the fort.”
I forced a smile. This was why he had brought us here. “Then congratulations are most certainly in order.”
Chetan nodded, eyeing the walls of the stalls as if they had ears of their own.
But then he caught sight of my uncle’s portrait.
He bowed to it with folded hands, and continued, speaking more to Thevan and Parushi than to me.
“The rani is far too busy to notice everyone around her, but perhaps you might recall a man with long hair and golden eyes. He was a server.”
My mouth went dry. I could feel every little bump from the top of my tongue as it clung to the roof of my mouth and refused to let go.
I knew exactly who Chetan spoke of. It was the same young man that I’d jumped to defend when Vishwajeet was ready to strike him.
I pried my tongue loose and cleared my throat, forcing each word out and hoping nobody would notice my sudden hoarseness.
“A young man? Usually wears his hair in a low ponytail?”
“The rani has an eye for detail,” Chetan said, visibly impressed. He reached for a nearby pot of tea and poured a cup for me. “And a good memory.”
Chaaya nodded at me, but I hardly paid any attention as I gratefully took the cup from his hand and sipped it.
The memory of a young man holding out a platter of food for my uncle with so much fear resurfaced in my mind’s eye.
I’d brushed his agitation off as a new servant’s nervousness around royalty, both during the Porcugi attack and later when Aru had come to visit.
Both times my uncle’s condition had gotten worse soon thereafter.
Parushi and Thevan bristled. They understood as well as I did, and both looked like they’d rather be holding their blades. I searched for Thevan’s eyes, hoping to find something to ground me as my thoughts swirled, but he refused to meet my gaze.
As he should, I reminded myself. I looked down at the tea rippling in my shaking fingertips.
“Ah.” I gripped the cup so hard I worried it might break, but it felt good to hold it tight, so I didn’t stop.
“His name is Ulagan,” Chetan said.
It was for the best that Chetan’s young assistant came in at that moment, his arms draped with blossoms. I had the feeling both Parushi and Thevan would have left immediately in search of the traitor if he hadn’t.
“You’re telling them about Ulagan?” The gangly man’s eyes lit with excitement. “None of us could believe it. He’s loved Adesh Uncle’s daughter for so long, but Adesh Uncle wouldn’t have him. And now he’s paying such a big dowry to Ulagan!”
The words rushed out of the assistant’s mouth. I couldn’t recall him speaking more than a word or two before, but apparently once he started to speak, he didn’t stop.
“That’s quite enough,” Chetan said. “The rani is concerned with wars and nations. She has more important things to deal with than our local gossip.”
The young man looked up at me and flushed, as if he suddenly remembered I was royalty.
Chetan continued. “Rani Abbakka wouldn’t know about the time that Ulagan asked for Adesh’s daughter’s hand in front of the entire marketplace, and how Adesh had laughed at him, shaming him in front of everyone.”
Chaaya piped up from the corner. “Adesh threw him out and told him he would never allow his daughter to marry someone so poor.”
“And now they’re getting married?” Parushi’s words sliced across the room, and she began to resemble a living dagger.
Before the young man could cut in again, Chetan pointed to the back room. “Go get some of the roses—one of each color, but make sure to bring only the best. If the rani likes them, we’ll need to increase our order.”
Chetan didn’t continue until his assistant was well out of earshot.
“It would seem that around the time when you became the rani, one of Ulagan’s relatives died, leaving him a fortune.
Now, not only can he afford a beautiful home by the sea and a large parcel of farmland, but he also has enough money to demand—and receive—a bigger dowry from Adesh since he will be providing his soon-to-be wife with such a life of luxury. ”
“Curious that Ulagan never mentioned the relative or his inheritance before.” Thevan did a better job of hiding his anger than Parushi, but somehow that made me even more nervous.
“Nobody knows much about the relative, except that they lived in Kozhikode.” Chetan pursed his lips. “I know a florist there and quietly made some inquiries, pretending I was having trouble with a delivery for the rites. Nobody with that type of fortune died around then.”
“I see.” My words hardly felt enough, but they were all I could muster.
“I have no doubt,” Chetan said.
“Who else knows?” Parushi asked sharply.
“Nobody,” Chetan replied. “My friend in Kozhikode doesn’t know why I asked—he doesn’t even have Ulagan’s name—and nobody here knows I reached out to him. This information is for your ears only. And it will stay that way.”
“Good.” Thevan managed to make the word sound like a threat.
Parushi cracked her knuckles. “I don’t think you should worry too much about ordering extra flowers for that wedding.”
Chetan nodded solemnly.
My stomach twisted and clenched. I didn’t want to be here when the young man came back with a bunch of flowers that I’d have to pretend to admire.
“Thank you,” I said as I rose to leave. “I always appreciate our time together.”
Chetan stood and handed me a bouquet of bright red chethipoo. I stared at the tiny red flowers that tumbled over my fingers like a bloody waterfall.
“I will never forget all that your uncle did for me. For Ullal.” Chetan’s voice was low but unwavering. “Those who forget their debts must pay the price.”