Like Yassen, she was dressed in crimson, her uniform freshly pressed. Gold ringed her neck and spiraled down her arms. Her hair, threaded with bands of Ravani crystals, rippled down her shoulders. When she moved, they glinted in the light.
“Then let us go,” Elena said.
Firecrackers ripped through the air as plumes of colored smoke danced across the sky. The smoke twisted, forming the shapes of animals: the blue dragon of the Ahi Sea; the green vesathri with its scorpion tail and stag head, once said to roam the Agnee mountains; and the Phoenix, Her red plume waving over the buildings. Along the street, performers beat drums and people popped bottles and waved golden flags.
Elena sat underneath a pavilion as her float made its way through Alabore’s Passage. Before her, columns of soldiers dressed in red and gold marched down the main road, carrying banners of the kingdom as people whistled and hooted. Unlike the crowds from earlier, they did not all wear gold caps. Elena saw men and women, regular city folk, waving to her joyfully.
After the Birdsong, she had not imagined this many people to show.
“Glory to the queen! Our bringer of justice!” one called.
“Don’t let Jangir get away with it!” another yelled.
“Let me kiss your slingsword!”
“All hail the new queen!”
Everywhere, people cheered. The voices of the Ravani rolled through her, swept her up, but instead of feeling a rush of pride, Elena felt sick.
I am a fraud, she thought.
Diya brought her an iced drink garnished with crushed rose petals. Elena thanked her, her eyes traveling to Ferma, who stood at the edge of the float watching the crowd. Curtains roped around the columns of the pavilion. From her vantage point, Elena saw the snipers on the rooftops. She smelled spiced street food and the sweet smoke of cured meats. Farther down the road, she observed a child wave a red ribbon that curled and unfurled like the tongue of a flame.
Elena glanced up at Yassen. “I need you to do something for me.” She took a sip, rolling crushed ice in her mouth, and then set down the glass. “After I make my speech at the White Lotus, I need you to sneak me away.”
His mouth hardened. “Are you trying to get me killed?”
“Not yet,” she said, her eyes on Ferma’s back.
He followed her gaze. “Why not Ferma?”
“She would disapprove.”
“Rightly so.”
“But you, my sweet Knight, like to break the rules,” she said and looked at him.
He did not avert his gaze, but she saw color rise on his cheeks. A new roar went through the crowd as the artisans lit up their rockets. They cut through the air with a high whistle and then exploded in an array of colors. The sparks flung out and then sucked back in, forming the wings of their Holy Bird. It soared down the street before exploding once more.
Still, his eyes did not leave hers.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked.
She smiled. “A tea shop in Radhia’s Bazaar. There’s an old friend I’d like to meet.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“No,” she said and felt the scroll beneath her sari. Her hands itched. “I need to go today.”
He turned, and she saw him take in the guards, the police and the soldiers, the crowds.
“It would be impossible,” he said finally.
“Yet,” she said, knowing he had already found a way.
“Yet it’s good you asked me,” he replied slowly. The feather on his breast glistened in the sun. He withdrew his holopod, tapped something she could not see, and pursed his lips. When the pod pinged, he stared at it for a long moment, as if considering.
“Well?”
