Read Tiger's Promise Page 2


  “I will remember your preferences for the next celebration we attend,” I murmured demurely but with just enough cheek that his instinct to exploit weakness would not be triggered. We both knew that another royal invitation was unlikely at best.

  My father was like a beast of prey. If a person was bold enough to stand up to him, he admired the gesture, but if he considered a person too weak, he simply destroyed him. The best way to avoid being caught between his jaws was to leave no tracks, to move through the space like a spirit.

  I was ten when I discovered I had the ability to vanish. At first, I didn’t even know what had happened. The stomping of boots outside my door frightened me, and I froze in place. Isha came quickly into my chamber, rushing past, straightening up my already immaculate room. My father preferred his possessions, as he did his people—though to him people were possessions—to all be in their proper places should he wish to find them.

  Isha’s precautions had been unnecessary. The door never opened. When she peeked outside, she conversed briefly with the guard and then closed the door.

  That’s when she started calling my name. “Bai? Yesubai? Where are you? You can come out now. Your father is away. It was just the changing of the guard.”

  “I…I’m right here,” I whispered softly.

  “Bai? Where are you? I cannot see you.”

  “Isha?” Concerned, I stepped forward, placing my hand on her arm. She let out a panicked squeak and ran her hands over my arms and face.

  “It must be the magic,” she said. “You’ve made yourself invisible. Can you change back?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered, the panic blooming in my chest.

  “Try clearing your mind. Think of something meaningless.”

  “Like what?”

  Isha looked at the boxes of flowers that had just been brought in from the market for me to arrange—the one pleasure my father allowed me. As I cupped each lovely bud, I imagined it growing wild in the sun as it stretched its leaves toward the sky, even though I knew that most of the flowers brought to me were cultivated. Watching the blooms slowly wither over time felt oddly appropriate and extremely prophetic.

  I wondered, even as a child, when my own bloom would fade and I, too, would waste away into nothing in my chamber, where I could draw no nourishment and never feel the sun on my face. Even if I just had the freedom to wander the markets myself, to escape briefly from the prison I lived in, that would be a reprieve I would treasure. “List every flower you can think of,” Isha said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “I’ll try.” Wetting my lips, I began. “Jasmine, lotus, marigold, sunflower…”

  “There. It’s beginning to work. I can see you, but the light goes through you like it would a wandering spirit.”

  “Magnolia, dahlia, orchid, chrysanthemum…”

  “Just a little bit more.”

  “Lily, rhododendron, amaranth, clematis, Calliandra.”

  “There now. You are fully visible. How do you feel?”

  “I feel fine. I did not sense that I was using magic.”

  “We will practice while your father is away. You must be able to control this, Bai.”

  And practice we did. By the time he returned, an all too short four months later, the ability to make myself invisible came easily, but try as we might, I could not transfer or share the gift with Isha. Our happiness in my new talent soon became resignation since I refused to leave my guardian, though she wasted many hours and even more tears in trying to convince me to escape without her. Ultimately, we decided not to risk exposing the gift, and I mostly remained in my room as I had before.

  During the next few years, there were only a few rare occasions when I used my newfound ability. One had been to escape the untoward advances of the few of my father’s men who dared risk his wrath. Even as a young girl, I’d been subject to their leers and pinches when my father wasn’t looking. They warned me that if I told him what they’d done, they would do something horrible to Isha. As I approached womanhood, their threats became more commonplace, and they sought out opportunities to catch me alone.

  When one did, I escaped into the next room and willed myself to vanish. Though he suspected I’d tricked him somehow, he dared not tell my father, for then he’d have to explain the reason he’d been in my chamber in the first place.

  I used my power a few times after that to spy on the guards or to steal little sweetmeats to give Isha as presents, but she felt that the risk was too great, and to keep her happy, I stopped using my ability unless it was absolutely necessary. Thanks to Isha’s vigilance and my gifts, I managed to escape all that meant me harm except for my father. The danger should he discover my abilities was undeniable so I suffered his abuse in silence.

  Though I would have liked nothing more at the moment when my father circled me than to vanish, I gave him a tight smile and steeled my resolve. With a swish of my skirts, we were through the door and down the wide hallway, Hajari following silently behind us, which meant he was to act as my personal guard for the evening.

  —

  I climbed into the opulent carriage on loan from the king and allowed the air of celebration to swirl around me. There was a spark of excitement that invigorated my senses, and even though I was with my father, the opportunity to see beyond the walls of my living space was so rare that I determined to bask in it and take in every sight and sound. Before I could catch myself, I smiled. My father noticed.

  “You look like your mother when we first met.”

  The smile left my face, and I replaced it with a neutral expression before allowing the curtain to close and turning toward him. “She was beautiful,” I said indifferently. It wasn’t a question or an invitation to open a dialogue but a flat statement that I knew to be true. I’d long ago found that it was easier and safer only to answer when it was expected and, even then, to say as little as was politely possible. I’d also learned not to create falsehoods that my father could easily unravel.

  “Yes. She was,” he answered. “But she is”—he leaned forward—“no longer.”

  I understood his message. He expected men to fawn over me tonight, and my actions would be carefully watched. “I understand, Father,” I said and lowered my eyes, clasping my hands lightly in my lap.

  After that exchange, he ignored me and conversed with Hajari, who sat entirely too near. Through my many layers of silk, I could feel his thigh pressed against mine, and from time to time, he purposely moved his leg in my direction, nudging me. Trying to disregard him, I slid closer to the window and snuck glances at the passing city.

  The whole town was lit up, and as the horses turned the corner, the palace came into view. It was built on a hilltop, giving it a panoramic view of the surrounding city. Beyond the buildings were forests, a wide lake, and hills that offered protection from our king’s enemies. The magnificent citadel was built entirely of marble and granite, and with its various towers, cupolas, and balconies, there were plenty of places to explore. Unfortunately I would never have that opportunity.

  We sped toward the first of three arched gateways, each named for the carved marble guardians that stood on either side at the base of each arch. The first was the Vanar Pol with two large monkey statues. Then came the Bagh Pol, or The Gate of the Twin Tigers. I shivered when I saw the terrifying set of tiger guardians with teeth and claws bared.

  Last was the Hathi Pol, or the Elephant Gate, with a life-sized elephant standing at each end, trunks raised and large tusks jutting forward. Though there were no signs of it, I knew that the wide lot on the other size of the Elephant Gate was used for elephant fights—a new and horrific practice my father had instigated. He claimed that the fighting was used to assess which elephants were the strongest, the most powerful, and the winners were used in his war campaigns.

  I knew that he encouraged the contests not to filter out the weak, though that was certainly something he would do, but to stir the blood of the men. The fights were staged, and the beasts were giv
en opium to make them more vicious than normal. The elephant battles attracted the most bloodthirsty of men, vicious warriors with no compassion who sought to profit from war and the pain of others. In short, it was a way to recruit the types of men he wanted to surround himself with.

  But for the party, the battles and blood had been scrubbed away. The palace gleamed with thousands of lamps and the colorful dresses of hundreds of women, who, wearing tinkling jewelry, graced the walkways as if they were vibrant flowers bobbing among the scenery.

  Inside, the sparkling light reflected off the wall paintings, colored glass, marble, and mirrors. Fantastic murals depicted the great victories of past kings. Each room, each hallway, each open terrace was a masterpiece of architecture, and every corner was filled with the riches of the kingdom—precious vases collected from exotic locations, art that had been completed by masters under commission, and sculptures so beautiful I wanted to run my fingertips over the carved details.

  Despite the opulence of the palace interior, there was one thing above all else I wanted to see—the famed raised garden of the uppermost court. I knew my father wouldn’t wish to visit such a place. There were no courtiers, no diplomats, no political strategies going on there, but I thought, perhaps, if I could just catch a glimpse of the legendary garden, then I would commit the sight of it to memory and reflect upon it through my long and lonely years.

  Unfortunately, I lingered a bit too long by a marble statue of the goddess Durga, and my father jerked my arm painfully and squeezed my wrist until the blood throbbed hotly in my hand. We moved silently ahead until we came across a couple my father wished to speak with.

  He finally let go of my wrist, and I twisted my hand back and forth with as little movement as possible until the feeling returned to my fingers. My reprieve was short-lived, though, and we soon entered the king’s reception room—a wide area bedecked with so many lanterns and so much greenery that I felt like I was in a forested grove beneath hundreds of stars.

  My father led me from person to person, and I couldn’t help but notice that nearly every man who approached appeared to be assessing me. One was even bold enough to reach for my veil. Immediately his fingers fell away and he began to choke. Water spilled from his mouth in such vast amounts as to be unnatural. Quickly, he sped away, and I was unsure if the man survived our encounter.

  “Come, Yesubai,” my father instructed as he took my arm in a tight grip. “I must speak with the king to discover why your presence warrants such…unsolicited interest.”

  As we waited for our turn to speak to the king, my father’s impatience left bruises on my already sore arm, though from all outward appearances, he seemed unperturbed. Lokesh stared unabashedly at the king’s golden throne, his eyes deferential when someone turned to him but calculating when they looked away.

  Finally, it was our turn to approach. The old king smiled kindly at me and clapped his hands together in delight.

  “Lokesh, the war hero! How fares our army?” the king asked with an expression that clearly showed he was more interested in the celebration than in my father’s answer.

  Bowing stiffly, my father replied quietly, “Our enemies cower before the power of your throne, Great King.”

  “Very good,” the king said dismissively. “Now then. I suppose you are wondering why I arranged this festival and specifically asked for your daughter to attend.”

  “I am…curious,” Lokesh responded.

  “Ah, my genius friend, I am delighted. If I truly have kept this secret from you and all of your palace spies, then I will happily take credit for achieving something most mortal men cannot—deceiving the master of cunning. Fortunate was the day you entered my kingdom, Lokesh.”

  “I feel exactly the same way, My King.”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, perhaps you might be persuaded to share your secret.”

  The king chuckled. “Yes, my secret. The king clapped my father’s shoulder, a gesture I knew my father detested. “My friend, you know that I have no surviving children of my own and that you are the next natural leader in the kingdom.”

  My father smiled—an oily, snakelike countenance that frightened me to my core. Apparently, it didn’t have the same effect on the gullible king. The man sitting on the throne had a jackal in his midst masquerading as a faithful dog. It was only a matter of time before his new pet turned and devoured him.

  “You flatter me,” Lokesh said.

  “Not at all. Any praise I give is well deserved. Now then, I have been carefully studying your activities and forays into other kingdoms.”

  “Oh?” my father said.

  “Quite. I’ve come to appreciate your efforts to expand the borders of our kingdom through diplomacy, negotiation, or”—he leaned forward and lowered his voice—“intimidation.”

  More like conspiracy, confrontation, and terrorization, I thought.

  The king continued, “As such, I have embarked upon a bargain of my own.”

  Little shock waves of pain blistered my arm where my father held on to it. I could literally feel the anger pulsing beneath his fingertips.

  “What have you done?” My father managed to twist the words to sound carefree, though I sensed the real threat behind them. The king was, of course, oblivious.

  Gleefully, he announced, “I have invited some of the most powerful men from the surrounding kingdoms here with the promise that one of them”—the king raised his eyebrows and darted his eyes quickly from side to side—“the one who offers the most pleasing bargain, will have your daughter, the lovely Yesubai, to wife.”

  Two

  Exhibition

  My breath caught and my body froze. For a panicked moment, I thought I’d vanished, but the king darted his eyes between me and my father, trying to gauge our reactions. Fortunately for me, my veil obscured the shock I managed to quickly hide. The tension in my father’s hand did not show at all on his face. He gave the king a taut smile.

  “And how long have you been planning this, Great King?” my father inquired politely, though I could tell he was seething. My stomach wrenched painfully, an indication that he was gathering his power around him. I’d never felt it emanating from him with such tremendous force before. I could almost sense the darkness coalescing inside him. It boiled and churned, rising up like a volcano about to erupt. That he could contain it at all surprised me.

  “Oh, for at least several weeks. I have to admit, I am pleased with the response. It would seem that the interest of many powerful men has been piqued. I have been quite busy fueling their desire to take to wife the daughter of my practically infamous military advisor. That so many have come is a tribute to our mutual reputation and the inroads you have made in the name of my kingdom, my friend. Not to mention the unabashedly true rumors of your great beauty, my dear.”

  The king added the last in an attempt to flatter, but instead his words chilled me. I knew nothing would persuade my father to marry me off to anyone, even a man he could conceivably gain from. The fact was, I belonged to him and he had no intention of letting me leave. He’d made that fact very plain to me over the years.

  Finally, my father spoke. Giving the king a jackal smile, he said, “How fortunate we are to be of use to the royal house. My daughter would be…honored to meet the suitors you have brought to our kingdom.”

  I didn’t miss the use of “our” when he spoke of the kingdom. Otherwise what he’d said astonished me. When he hadn’t found a clever yet polite way to reject the king’s offer, I couldn’t help but wonder what his strategy was.

  Surely, he could have argued that I was too young, that I was the only female to care for the household since the passing of my dear mother, a falsehood that might be easily believed by one as naive as the king, or that the timing was just not right. Even I could come up with a dozen reasons to rationalize a quiet rejection of the king’s offer.

  Perhaps my father simply didn’t wish to embarrass the king. Maybe he’d been caught off guard and hadn’t y
et come up with an alternative. Risking a glance at the man standing at my side, I could see that he was once again under control. He was playing at being the diplomat as he turned to one man and then another. The rising power I’d sensed had ebbed again, cloaking itself from all but the most discerning.

  Though I tried not to allow hope that the king’s offer might actually come to fruition to blossom in my heart, it did. Even the vilest of men at the celebration were better options than staying with my father. All it would take was a lapse in security, a small moment of complacency, a fragment of trust, and I would make my escape with Isha. Perhaps this shocking scheme would be my way out.

  The king made his announcement immediately, inviting my father and me to stand with him on the dais.

  “My friends! Gather around. As you know, I have not been blessed with a child and have no royal successor, but that does not mean that my kingdom is without prized jewels. In fact, my clever and most loyal military advisor has a daughter, indeed one who is lovelier than a goddess, and he has graciously allowed me the opportunity to give her away in marriage much as I would had I a daughter of my own.

  “What we seek is a union. A perfect match. She desires to be joined with a proper groom, of course, but this will be a merging not just of people but of nations, of power, and of affluence. Come! Look closer. Her decorum is without blemish. Her innocence and youth would allow a man to mold her into the sort of companion that would best suit him. A more perfect wife you could not aspire to.”

  The king stood up and circled around me. My father reluctantly let go of my arm. The fact that I was on display was humiliating, but what was worse was the knowledge that my father would somehow blame me for the king’s actions. Not only would he beat me severely but there was now no way he would leave the city. Not with my future uncertain.

  Enjoying his grandstanding, the king continued with a flourish. Each claim he made stirred the crowd even more. “Truly I have never seen a flower of such beauty. She is as rare a gem as she is precious. I would know as I am one of the privileged few to have seen her without her veil.”