Page 86 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

“Say it.”

“How dare—” the nawab got out before Rabin squeezed his father’s neck again, choking off his words.

“Don’t,” Rabin said. “Don’t you fucking dare. Do you understand me?”

“Understood,” Gopal finally gasped, glaring at his son with naked rage. Rabin held on for a few beats before finally releasing his father and stepping away.

“Don’t think you have any control over me or my life, Father. You have no right or say in anything I do. You lost that privilege years ago.”

Gopal clutched his throat, bending double as he coughed and sputtered.

“You got your crown,” Rabin snarled over his father’s hunched form. “Be content with that.”

Frozen in place, Zarya squeaked when Rabin’s gaze flew up to her.

“Fuck,” he breathed, running a hand down his face, before he stormed towards her, grabbed her arm, and started dragging her away.

“What was that about?” she asked as she scurried to keep pace with his furious strides.

“Nothing.”

“Obviously,” she answered, but she kept her mouth shut as she took in the rage simmering in his expression and the tension in his jaw. When they’d cleared the garden, he released his hold.

“What are you wearing?” he asked, and she blinked at the abrupt change of subject.

“I… What?”

“This. What are you wearing?” he gestured to her.

“I bought this in the city,” she said, smoothing her hands down over her stomach. His eyes tracked her every movement, and she couldn’t figure out his problem now.

“It’s useless,” he said, waving a hand. “This won’t protect you against anything. It just looks nice.”

She had no idea how to respond to that. “Okay? It’s too late for me to go shopping now. Gods, you can’t help but be an ass, can you?”

He glared at her before he turned away, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck.

“Are you okay?” she asked. In spite of herself, she was concerned about the conversation she’d just witnessed. What had they been arguing about? Rabin had said something about leaving “her” alone. Who was the “her” in this scenario? Zarya recalled the mention of a sister and wondered if that might be it.

Rabin eased out a low growl before turning around to face her, his gaze scanning her apparently useless armor once again.

“I will be.” Then, he jerked his head. “We should get going. They’ll be waiting for us.”

The Chiranjivi waited with Vikram and Yasen in the courtyard, shaded under the canopy of Amrita’s branches.

Dhawan and Suvanna had their heads bent together, conferring on how they would make their way to the nearest Bayangoma grove.

Rabin stalked past her and paced along the far length of the space, clearly trying to calm his festering temper.

“Zee,” Yasen said, and she turned to find him approaching. He stopped and scanned her from head to toe with a quizzical look.

“What?” she asked, looking down at herself. Was he going to comment on her attire, too?

“You got laid,” he said, and her mouth dropped open.

“What?”

“I can tell. You have a glow,” he said, coming closer and then leaning down before he sniffed. “Plus, you reek of Commander Rabindranath Ravana.”