Chapter 37
The following morning, a messenger arrived to let me know that the raja was unwell and that he’d asked to postpone our lunch meeting. The delay was a relief given the planning we needed to do, so I sent word that I understood and would be praying for his quick recovery.
Thankfully, Parushi was feeling much better, and while she couldn’t move quickly, she was able to get out of bed after Nallini closed her wound.
We’d realized that we needed help—the kind of help we could only find in Ullal.
I needed people at my side who had fought the Porcugi and faced those horrors but still understood the importance of continuing to fight.
There was one major problem: We couldn’t send a message asking for people to come stand with me without Vishwajeet intercepting it.
Ultimately, I’d decided to send a letter to Thevan that was filled with the usual pleasantries about my pregnancy and lies about my comfort in Banghervari, but I’d tie it with Samanth’s bracelet in the hope that Thevan would see it and know something was amiss.
My heart pounded as I knotted the ends of the bracelet.
The thought of Thevan coming to Banghervari to stand with me against the tithes to the Porcugi—and be at my side once again—made my chest tight.
I held the letter close to my heart and wished there was a way to ensure that Thevan would open the letter himself, but there was nothing I could do beyond hope; I refused to pray to the Spirits, since their message had brought me into this mess.
Chaaya was kind enough not to mention my flushed cheeks when she took the letter from me so she could deliver it to the palace’s messengers.
It was Parushi who came up with our backup plan.
She suggested that one of us should try to deliver our message in person, just in case the bracelet wasn’t understood.
Parushi insisted she was healed enough to handle the ride because Nallini had already closed the wound, but Nallini had flatly informed her that speaking wishful thoughts didn’t make them the truth. Parushi had no reply.
That eliminated Parushi—anything that rendered her mute had to be considered a worthy argument—and it was impossible for me or Nallini to leave without causing a stir, so it fell to Chaaya.
It made sense, especially since she’d recently received word that her nephew was ill, so we could just say she’d gone back to help care for him.
People were bound to notice eventually, but hopefully we could keep her departure a secret long enough for her to get a safe head start.
Chaaya’s eyes were wide when I asked if she would go, but she didn’t make herself small, as she so often did.
“For you, Raniji,” she said in a whisper.
I thanked Chaaya, suddenly nervous on her account, but we didn’t have time to linger.
We hastily packed her supplies and hid them inside of Nallini’s large healer’s bag.
Nallini often went to the woods to gather herbs, so it was doubtful she’d attract any notice.
She would hide among the trees and meet Parushi and Chaaya there so they wouldn’t have to go to the stables carrying Chaaya’s bag.
Once Nallini was gone, Chaaya and I retreated into my bedchamber.
In our rush to prepare, I hadn’t had time to think, but now I realized that we were about to be parted for the first time since my mother had asked Chaaya to care for me.
My hands began to tremble, and I reached for hers.
Chaaya’s fingers were shaking too, but she stood tall.
“Don’t fret, Raniji. I will manage,” she said, and I could hear the mettle of a lifetime of hard work behind her words.
I squeezed her hands tight and looked into the eyes I’d known since childhood.
Before the tears could come, I let go and went to my trunk.
I pulled out a thick black shawl and handed it to her.
“Take this. It will keep you warm and help you hide in the shadows, since it blends with Maraan’s coat perfectly. ”
“Maraan?” Chaaya blinked in surprise as she accepted the shawl. She knew how much I loved him. “No, he should stay with you. I’ll take another horse from the stables.”
“You must take Maraan,” I said firmly. “He’ll protect you. And the hostlers are used to seeing you with him, thanks to all the rides you’ve taken with Parushi to keep him exercised. They won’t think anything of it, but it might raise a few eyebrows if you take another horse.”
Chaaya pursed her lips, as if she were looking for a reason to disagree, but eventually said, “As you wish.”
“There is one more thing I wish.” I took off all my bangles until I finally reached the last one: Ektha’s bangle with my mother’s payal bells attached. With tingling fingertips, I pulled it off and slid it over Chaaya’s hand.
“May they protect you as they have me,” I whispered.
Tears filled Chaaya’s eyes. “I can’t.”
She tried to take it off, but I covered her hand with mine.
“I’m asking too much of you,” I said. “I know it, but I can’t ask any less. This is the least I can do. Let me do it.”
She folded her hands in prayer and touched the bangle to her forehead.
Parushi rapped on the door and stepped in.
She gestured to Chaaya. “We need to go. I don’t enjoy the interruption any more than you do, but the truth is that the further you can ride in daylight, the better off you’ll be.
There’s a town you can stop in for the night.
You’ll get there before sunset if you start now. ”
Chaaya nodded, “I’ll just put the rest of the rani’s bangles on.”
“No.” I pulled my hands away. “I’ll take care of that myself. I’ll need to do it often enough when you’re gone. You need to leave. Now. I command it.”
With a regretful nod, Chaaya bowed to me one last time and then left the room. Parushi shut the doors, leaving me behind.
Alone.
Two days after Chaaya left, the raja sent word: He was feeling better and wanted to meet at lunch.
Few people had disturbed us over the last two days, and we hoped that Chaaya’s absence had gone unnoticed. It was unmentioned, at the very least.
But now the raja was ready to meet, and it was important that I look as I would have if Chaaya had dressed me.
Nallini chose a mauve sari, one that would exude royalty with its rich silver embellishments but also soften my features so I would look less like I was “going to war,” as she put it.
She left it in my bedchamber and didn’t say a word when Parushi insisted that she could dress me without any help.
When Parushi’s pleats dropped to the ground for the fourth time, she threw her hands up. “Is there a sari that’s less persnickety than this one? It’s as if it was designed to be impossible to wear. Why would you agree to this?”
“Because Nallini chose well and you know it,” I said. “Nobody will listen to me if I don’t look the way that they expect—the way they respect. I need to look the part they want me to play.”
“In my experience, people listen quite well when they’re staring down a blade.” Parushi smiled wickedly. “Maybe I should get yours out of your trunk, and you can finally put it to good use.”
The door creaked open, and Nallini cleared her throat. “If the rani requires any assistance . . .”
“Stop pretending you don’t know we need help,” Parushi snapped. “You probably just waited there to hear how many ways I could curse at this infernal cloth.”
“Six,” Nallini said as she passed Parushi and bent to pick up the fabric piled in a halo around my petticoat.
Parushi’s eyes bugged out like a toad, but it seemed she’d lost her tongue.
Without missing a beat, Nallini wrapped the sari around me and gathered it so the pleats fell to the ground in evenly spaced, perfectly straight lines. She folded the cloth at my shoulder and flipped the pallu over my back in a smooth motion before stepping back and nodding,
I put on my jewelry as Nallini and Parushi went to the door. “Before you go, I’m afraid I must impose upon you further, Nallini. Could you please check Parushi’s wound?”
Parushi spun to face me. Her hand went to her injury, and she twisted away from Nallini. “I’m fine.”
I didn’t bother to hide my exasperation. “You’ve been grabbing your side ever since you saw Chaaya off. You reopened your wound while you rode. Let Nallini bandage it.”
“There’s no need.” Parushi stepped farther away from Nallini.
“I’ll make you a deal.” I stepped toward my cousin and grabbed the hem of her tunic. “If I lift this and you don’t have some sort of half-shot, makeshift effort at a bandage that you tried to put on yourself, then Nallini doesn’t have to check it.”
Parushi jutted out her chin and glared at me as she held her tunic down on either side of my hand. Then she snatched her top away from me and said, “As you wish, Rani.”
She gave an exaggerated bow.
“May the Spirits bless your steps.” I treated my response with the same excessive formality.
“You’re impossible,” Parushi said, but at least she stopped arguing.
She and Nallini made their way to their room while I went to the sitting room and tried to review the stacks upon stacks of papers filled with figures about Ullal’s trade.
I couldn’t focus, though. My eyes kept drifting to the letter that I’d already read more times than I could count.
I picked it up, leaving behind the half-opened package underneath it.
Nikith’s message had taken me by surprise. It had come soon after Chaaya left—too soon to be a reply to our plea for help—but I’d ripped it open eagerly, certain that he had sensed that something was off and that he was coming.
I’d been half right. I reread his words:
My dear sister,
I cannot help but worry when I read your letters. You sound so distant and unlike your spirited self.