Page 86 of Heart of Night and Fire

Zarya froze. She turned to find a figure sitting in the shadows of a small alcove. As Zarya approached, moonlight streaming through the window revealed Amrita, her eyes wet with tears.

“What?” Zarya asked.

“Vikram. I saw the way he watched you all night. The way he looked at you. I know he doesn’t want this life with me.”

The plush bed in Zarya’s room called, and this was now officially the longest day of her life. While she’d mostly forgiven Vikram, she was going to tear a strip off him tomorrow and tell him to do something to assuage his princess, whether he wanted to become her steward or not.

With a sigh, Zarya dropped down next to Amrita. “I didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to be doing that. With me.”

“I know that. And I certainly don’t blame you. Or him. Not really. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes, either. I suspected something was going on when I saw you at the palace, but I assumed he’d told you about us.” She paused. “I know they say it’s forbidden, but I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not like I can please him in that way.”

Zarya sat up straight, shaking her head. “I’m not sure if that’s what I want. Sneaking around? Hiding it? It sounds miserable.”

“It would make me happy to see him happy,” Amrita pleaded. “I carry so much guilt that I’ve done this to him. That he has no life and no freedom because of me. If I thought being with you could offer him any kind of joy…”

“Amrita, you are very kind to worry about him,” Zarya said, taking her hand. “But I can’t let his cage become mine, too. I’m sorry.”

A tear slid down Amrita’s cheek, but she made no move to wipe it away.

“Go to bed, Amrita. Sometimes our destiny is not what we would have chosen. We can either seek to change it or learn to live with it. I don’t know your paths, but that’s up to you and Vikram to figure out. It can’t have anything to do with me.”

Amrita stared with her big amber eyes as Zarya stood.

“Good night.”

Back in her room, Zarya kicked off her shoes, landed face down on the bed in her now rumpled lehenga, and instantly fell asleep.

THIRTY

The next morning, she found Yasen and Aarav seated across from one another in the small dining room. Aarav was studying a row of playing cards laid out on the table. After befriending several members of the Ravana guard, he’d spent the better part of his evenings losing and winning hands of Rani’s Cradle.

Zarya sat down and watched Aarav shuffling the deck, noticing they depicted Rani Vasvi, Amrita, Tarin, the Chiranjivi, as well as some of the nobility, including Vikram, Gopal, and all three of his wives. Yasen ate his breakfast and nodded at her with a touch less of his usual aloofness.

“Morning,” he said and sipped his chai.

“Morning.” Zarya picked up one of the cards from the table. It depicted Row, and his stern likeness stared back at Zarya as if he were on the verge of scolding her for every bit of mischief she’d gotten up to since he’d disappeared.

“Where is he, Aarav?” she asked, feeling an uncharacteristic wave of melancholy for her pseudo-father. Despite herself, Zarya was worried and perhaps even missed Row’s steady presence. He was always so sure of himself. Always knew how to handle anything. It was one thing she admired about him.

“I wish I knew,” Aarav said, the cards snapping as he shuffled them. “He’ll be back. I doubt he’s easy to kill.”

Zarya pushed out a puff of air. “I suppose.”

“Let me show you the basics.” Aarav grabbed the card out of her hand and inserted it into the deck.

“No, please,” Zarya said, throwing her head back and covering her eyes with her arm. “Spare me from the competitive games of men and boys. I’ll die happy knowing I never learned the rules or ever bet a round.”

Yasen snickered. “She’s just scared she won’t understand it,” he said with a challenge in his tone.

Zarya waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, please, if the two of you can figure it out, I’m sure a smarter-than-average donkey could grasp the rules. Besides, I want to visit the library.”

Yasen’s smile turned into a groan as he slumped down in his chair in mock agony, and she slapped him playfully on the arm.

“Stop it! I’m not making you go with me. You have your silly cards, and I have my books.”

Yasen sat back up and shoved a plate topped with crispy fried dosa in front of her. “Fine. But eat something first. You’re still recovering.”

She tamped down on her smile, assuming that if she drew any attention to the way he was worrying about her, he would either deny it or shut down. But she was warmed by it all the same.