Page 40 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

When she was ready, she made her way to the palace, intending to see Amrita one last time before she changed forever.

Zarya recalled their last conversation and wondered if the princess had already changed, though. It was obvious the seeding had begun the transformation even before Amrita was fully relegated to her position inside the Jai Tree.

As Zarya crossed the plaza, she contemplated the strange events of two nights ago. Had she imagined those ghosts? She would have an easier time believing they weren’t real if they hadn’t preceded the arrival of the ajakava. The two events had to be connected.

She entered through the side garden, finding the palace bustling with its usual level of activity. Several vanshaj scurried past, laden with food, towels, and other items required to attend to the palace’s residents. Most of the nobles would be at tonight’s ceremony and likely had numerous pampering ‘emergencies’ cropping up.

She knew her way around much of the palace by now and easily found Amrita, who was preparing for the event. Zarya was admitted to a small round room with windows on all sides, draped with flowers and vines. In the center, Amrita stood wearing a simple white sari, the hem dusting the tops of her bared feet.

Attendants brushed her dark hair until her curls were as smooth as polished onyx, while another dusted her face with powder. Thick lines of kohl rimmed Amrita’s amber eyes, making her appear older and more serious—a direct contrast to the blank and emotionless look on her face.

“Amrita,” Zarya said as she entered, and her friend’s head swiveled slowly like she was moving underwater. Amrita blinked, but her eyes remained vacant and distant. “How are you?”

“Zarya,” she said in a breathy voice. “How nice to see you. You’re so kind to see me off like this.”

Zarya frowned as she moved closer, and the attendants moved away, finished with their tasks. Amrita slowly pivoted with her arms stretched out like a child showing off her party dress. Like she was a statue on a pedestal placed there for everyone to admire.

“Amrita,” Zarya said, her throat knotting up with tension. She hated seeing her like this.

“Yes?” Amrita said, blinking her big eyes and tipping her head in question.

“I… I’m going to miss you.”

“Oh. Well, that’s very nice.”

Zarya moved closer and took Amrita’s hand. “You’re sure that this is what you want?” Zarya had no idea if there was any way to undo what had already been set into motion, but she had to ask, anyway.

The mask of Amrita’s expression crumpled for a moment before it solidified again. “Of course. What a silly question.”

Zarya nodded, holding in everything she wanted to say. Of course, Amrita had to fulfill her duty. She just wished she didn’t have to lose herself entirely in the process. “At least you’ll be able to do all those things you wanted to improve Daragaab, right?”

Amrita’s gaze drifted off, pointing to nothing Zarya could discern.

“Amrita?” Zarya asked, tugging gently on her hand.

“What? Oh yes.” Amrita smiled and patted Zarya’s hand. “Thank you for coming. Everything will be well.”

“Okay,” Zarya said, noting the flurry of activity happening around them. The ceremony would begin soon, and this would be done. Zarya drew Amrita into a long hug, though Amrita didn’t seem to know what to do with it, her arms hanging limply at her sides.

She pulled away and watched the princess, who peered back with the same almost manic smile. There was nothing more she could say or do. This was Amrita’s fate, and Zarya would have to accept it.

Quickly, she turned to leave, unable to look at the hollow shell of her friend a moment longer. Lost in her thoughts, she came up short when someone stepped in her path—a vanshaj woman with a white dupatta draped around her head.

“Please, miss,” the woman said as she pressed her hands in front of her.

Zarya stopped and studied the woman who stared at her wide-eyed. When the woman said nothing, Zarya tipped her head.

“What is it? Can I help you with something?”

The woman stepped forward, glancing from left to right to check they were alone.

“My sister. She saw them, too,” she said, her whisper so soft that Zarya barely heard her.

Zarya shook her head. “Saw them, who?”

“Out there,” the woman gestured in the direction of the city gates. “I was in the hall when you were telling the steward, and my sister, she fought against the ajakava. She said she saw them, too.”

Zarya’s hand shot out, wrapping around the woman’s wrist. “The ghost army? She could see them?”