Page 103 of Heart of Night and Fire

“As are you,” Amrita replied, sweeping towards Zarya with her hands clutched together. “Have you seen Vikram? How is he doing?”

“I haven’t, but I’m sure he’s okay.”

“I don’t believe that.” Amrita sat on the edge of the enormous four-poster bed, and Zarya sank down next to her.

“It’s an important day for you, too. Are you happy? Do you want to join with him? He’s going to become your voice for everything. That’s a lot of trust to place in someone.”

Amrita sighed. “Of course. I trust him completely. It’s him I worry about since his life will become a shadow of what it is. Besides, they need me to protect the city. I’m no use to anyone like this.”

She spread out her hands.

“Amrita, that’s not true.”

The princess bit her lip and sighed. “It’s okay. I know it is.”

Zarya thought that was the saddest thing she’d ever heard.

“I have a favor to ask you. Will you stand with me during the ceremony? Yasen will be there at Vik’s side since his brother isn’t here, and it would be so nice to have someone, too. I’d be honored if it was you.”

Zarya paused, wondering why Amrita didn’t have someone who knew her better to do this, but Zarya understood what it was like to be confined by your own life.

“It would be my absolute pleasure.”

The door opened and a servant in white robes entered. “We are ready to begin, Your Highness.” He bowed so low his nose almost came to his knees. He straightened himself and gestured for them to follow. A pair of servants flanked their procession as they made their way through the resplendent palace, decorated with flowers and ribbons and swathes of colorful fabric. Despite what Vikram had said about keeping things simple, it appeared his mother had managed to put together a small and very opulent miracle in a very short time.

At the bottom of the stairs, Tarin waited, ready to escort Amrita. Zarya hugged her friend before she headed for the garden.

A royal-blue carpet lined the walkway that led to a shallow stone amphitheater, where guests lounged against an array of plush, colorful pillows. At the center stood a canopied pergola adorned with fresh flowers.

She grimaced at the way so much of this was set up to mimic a marriage between two people who loved one another when it seemed it was anything but. While she supposed it was intended to symbolize the joyousness of the occasion—just like a wedding—she couldn’t help feeling there was something sinister about the entire thing.

Zarya entered behind the Ravana wives, who took their places near the front where their husband was already seated. As Zarya passed him, he pinned her with a heated glare that felt like it might turn her skin to ash.

The Chiranjivi sat near the front as well. Apsara had traded her usual creamy leathers for a white-and-silver sari, her feathered wings spread behind her. Suvanna embodied her watery kingdom in a sea-green lehenga, while Koura wore a sherwani of pale yellow silk. Kindle was his usual elegant self in his black velvet coat with red trim. He nodded at Zarya with a warm smile as she passed.

She stepped under the pergola, conscious of the guests watching her from every side. Hundreds of lanterns, interspersed throughout the seating area, cast the whole scene with a soft glow. It was absolutely breathtaking, but it was getting harder to ignore the sounds coming from the other side of the wall as the sun was beginning to set. Why hadn’t they done this earlier in the day? Not that it mattered. If the monsters were coming, it would make no difference what any of them were doing.

Next came Vikram, wearing a white sherwani and red turban, riding a white horse with a golden bridle as Yasen walked next to him, a hand on his sword hilt. Several other guards trailed behind them, while music played softly in the background. They joined Zarya under the pergola, all of them turning to await Amrita’s entrance.

Clinging to Tarin, the princess emerged from the palace, sheltered under a piece of fabric suspended by four guards. They made slow progress, the elder astomi’s steps stilted and shuffling.

Though he kept a careful smile on his face, Zarya caught the sadness reflected in Vikram’s eyes. In a few days, Amrita would be crowned Queen of Daragaab and begin her transition. As he did his best to appear happy, Zarya felt a pang of regret for him and decided to forgive him for the lies he’d told. He was another person trapped in a cage of his father’s making, and Zarya knew the lengths someone would go to when their freedom was threatened.

As Amrita reached the pergola, Vikram bowed before taking her hand and tucking it under his arm. They waited for Tarin to take his place in front of them.

As the current steward, he would be central to the process of transitioning out of his role and transferring his knowledge and the honor on Vikram. Today’s events marked the first in a series of steps to bring about Amrita’s physical change.

The ceremony consisted of long passages about time and nature and loyalty. More than once, Tarin’s words were cut off by a distant shriek or scream. They couldn’t hear the worst of the fighting from the palace, but it was obvious things were unsettled on the wall.

Vikram’s distracted gaze kept wandering to some distant point beyond the garden as the ceremony dragged on. As he shifted from foot to foot, Zarya got the sense he wanted to snap at everyone to hurry things up, but it wouldn’t hasten Amrita’s transformation.

Zarya’s thoughts wandered as she half listened to Tarin weave whatever magic was needed for this process, something nagging at the edges of her consciousness. It was that same restless feeling that had been bothering her ever since they’d returned from Vikram’s family estate. The threat to the city was at the forefront of her mind, but there was something else underlying it.

She was chewing on her lower lip when Yasen caught her eye, inclining his head. Are you okay?

She nodded and drew her attention back to the ceremony, but she rolled her shoulders, feeling like her skin had become too tight.

Finally, it was time for Vikram and Amrita to perform the first exchange of their magic by linking hands and reciting a series of lines fed by Tarin. The guests watched in awe as ribbons of pale light dispersed from their linked fingers and wrapped around the princess and her future steward. It was both a symbol of their joining and the creation of an ancient binding that would see them become one.