Page 68 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

“Take your time,” he called after her before she heard him dump the contents in the sink. “You’re going to need it.”

A short while later, she’d done her best to clean herself up. She’d brushed her hair and cleaned her face, put on some makeup, and changed into a fresh kurta and pants made of soft green silk embroidered with silver flowers. A pair of dangling silver jhumka and a coordinating necklace made it look a little less like she’d just pieced herself together.

“Better?” she asked when she found Yasen sitting in the back garden overlooking the ocean. He’d found something more palatable to drink, a glass in his hand.

He looked over and scanned her up and down. “Better.”

“Then let’s go. This better be fun.”

“Everything is fun with me,” he joked, and she smiled.

“You know. That’s kind of true.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me, Swamp Girl.”

He held out an elbow, and she looped her arm through it before they walked to the palace, entering through the courtyard doors.

A long table ran through the center, laden with golden plates, crystal goblets, silver flatware, and centerpieces bursting with white flowers and greenery. Dozens of delicate wooden chairs lined the table, already filled with courtiers. Zarya spotted Row sitting with Kindle and Dhawan, while Apsara, Suvanna, and Koura occupied the seats across from them.

When Zarya and Yasen appeared, they looked their way and nodded. Row smiled at her, and she returned it. They had been having dinners together the last few nights, their conversation less stilted and awkward. She was learning to forgive him. Slowly.

A servant greeted them and walked Yasen and Zarya past Row and the others to a pair of empty seats.

“No,” Zarya said, grabbing Yasen’s arm and dragging them both to a stop.

Rabin sat next to his mother, deep in conversation. Zarya had never seen Jasmine—Gopal Ravana’s third wife—so animated. Gone was her usual vacant expression as she gazed lovingly upon her eldest son. Clearly, she adored him, and the realization made Zarya’s heart twist with a curious sense of longing.

Two empty chairs opposite the pair were clearly meant for Zarya and Yasen. This was not what she had signed up for.

“I’m going back to my nest of blankets and cheap booze,” she said, backing up, hoping to escape before he noticed her.

But Rabin and Jasmine chose that moment to look over, and now it would be far too obvious if she ran. Besides, Yasen was already hauling her towards the table with his hand clamped around her elbow.

“Yasen,” Jasmine exclaimed. She wore a teal sari and a mountain of gold jewelry, her dark eyes rimmed with rings of kohl. “Do sit down and join us. I feel as though I haven’t seen you in so long.” She gestured to the empty seats.

Zarya’s lips and fingertips went numb as they approached, and Rabin studied her with his penetrating gaze. It was obvious that Yasen was enjoying this immensely as he shoved her towards the chair in front of Rabin while she tried to maneuver herself to the other. But Yasen smoothly dodged around her and sat down, leaving her no choice but to sit across from Rabin.

She scowled at Yasen as she dropped into the seat.

“I will kill you,” she hissed under her breath.

Yasen gave her a simpering smile before he clapped his hands together.

“Jasmine Aunty, everything looks splendid. You and the wives have truly outdone yourselves this evening.”

Jasmine’s shoulders wiggled as she preened at the compliment.

Zarya did her best to look at anything other than the man across from her, but she felt his attention, and their eyes met. Heat shimmered between them before Zarya looked away, her neck flushing in a way she hoped he didn’t notice.

She used the opportunity to study her surroundings. Vikram sat at the head of the table next to his father and Diya, another of the Ravana wives. Gopal lifted his wine glass to his lips and threw Zarya a scathing look over the rim.

Apparently, her elevation from mere human to Aazheri hadn’t altered his opinion of her. To think Rabin thought she was his spy. It was laughable. Wait until he found out that Rabin might be connected to her through a magical bond. That would make for fun dinner table conversation.

Zarya looked back to find Rabin studying his father as well, a line creasing his dark brows. When he noticed her stare, his gaze met hers again.

She huffed and picked up her wine glass, burying her nose in it. Maybe if she got drunk enough, this meal might be tolerable. Of course, there was the possibility she might make a fool of herself again, but she’d take that chance in exchange for inebriated bliss.

A flicker overhead drew everyone’s attention skyward towards a large translucent dome made of pale golden light, flickering in and out of focus. Zarya squinted, realizing it was Amrita’s magical barrier struggling to remain in place. Her gaze went to Vikram, who was staring up at it, too, as the table broke into a flurry of whispers.