His eyes jerk up to me; he’s probably surprised I’ve decided to stick around. Hey, I’m surprised too. But if I don’t get my answers now, who knows when I’ll receive them. And I don’t think I could face Jatin, the real Jatin, anyway. Gods, it’s hard to wrap my head around that. The real Jatin, my fiancé, and the man who’s been lying to me for weeks.
“Areyouokay?” he asks.
“My wrist is fine if that’s what you are asking.”
“Only…partly. I’m sorry about…” He blushes. Good, I’ve unsettled him. Maybe he will give me the answers I so desperately need.
“If you want to talk, talk.Yourname is Kalyan, right?”
“Yes, My Rani.”
“Don’t ‘My Rani’ me. A few minutes ago I thought I was engaged to you!” I stare at him full-on. Yes, they look very much alike, but this boy appears younger than Jatin, maybe even younger than I am. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
Sixteen? And he’s Raja Jatin’s guard? Would Maharaja Naupure have disclosed his plan to someone so young and inexperienced or would Jatin and his father have commanded this guard to do their bidding? Only one way to know for sure.
“Why would you switch places with him? What do you have to gain?”
His eyes shift. “We should probably talk somewhere else.” Good point. We are still in the middle of the training field afterall.
We trudge to the barracks because I’m sure not going into the palace. But the barracks are full of guardsmen, brimming actually. “The only place I know is empty is my room,” Kalyan says.
“Okay, then.” I gesture.
“We shouldn’t be in there alone. People will think—”
“After all this, you’rethatworried about my reputation?”
He nods. “Mine too. You do realize who you are, right?”
This is getting irritating. “Yes, I do, so don’t make me give the ‘one day I’ll be in command’ speech.”
Reluctantly, he leads me down the hall, ducking his head each time we pass a fellow guard. Barely anyone even glances our way, though. He seriously overestimates how often people pay attention. Hiding in plain sight is strategic for a reason.
He leads me into the plainest room in history. A tidy bed and a clean desk sit in a boxlike room, which can barely be described as a living space. It’s a closet. Vibrant blue curtains with the Naupure crest blow toward us as we enter. Okay, it’s a closet with a window.
It’s so different from my memory of Jatin’s room at age eight. “You’re very clean.”
“I don’t need much.”
I spot Kalyan rubbing his ribs again as he sits on the floor. “You sure you don’t want me to fix that?” I ask.
He lifts his hand from his ribs. “It’s just a bruise.” He stares at me. “I always thought Jatin was exaggerating when he said you punched him in the face the first time you met.”
“Hewasexaggerating. It was a slap at best.”
“Uh-huh, sure.”
“Was it Maharaja Naupure who devised the plan for you two to switch places?”
He shrugs. “It’s in my job description. When we travel I dress as a raja of Naupure to protect Jatin. But this situation with you…well, this situation is messed up, if you ask me.”
I get it. He impersonates Jatin. If Belwarians idolized their heirs, Father probably would have wanted the same for me, too, although it would be hard to match my dark skin tone because of the Pire Island in me. “So Naupure doesn’t know about any of this?”
“No, nothing,” Kalyan says.
That doesn’t mean Maharaja Naupure didn’t tell Moolek about the Red Woman or try to get me to investigate Moolek this whole time instead of…him.
