She listened with the kind of empathy I’d only experienced with Isha. When I was done, she stroked my hair and said, “You will be safe with us, Yesubai. I promise you that my son would never treat you unkindly. He will be patient with you. However, if you wish not to wed at this time, you are welcome to stay regardless. I would offer you sanctuary as I do my women. But I hope that you will consider at least meeting my son before you decide.”
It was so easy. The kindness she showed made me feel all the more vile, all the more duplicitous, for the things I hadn’t shared with her. If anything was sure, I wasn’t worthy to be a member of this family. They were trusting, genuine, and without guile. My father would destroy them, and if I couldn’t do anything to stop it, I would hold myself accountable for their demise.
After I assured her that it was indeed my intention to ally myself with her family, she uncovered a hidden doorway behind a curtain, saying that I could use it when I needed to escape Hajari’s attention. It led out into the garden, and as I made my way down the secret passage, I willed myself invisible and wondered if I had made a grave error.
My father would be angry at my methods, but even he couldn’t deny the results. There was, of course, the possibility that he would never find out. Rajaram’s wife had agreed to hold my confession in the strictest of confidence. Still, I thought the potential benefits outweighed the risk.
In order to garner Deschen’s sympathy, I’d told her of my father’s abuse. Not everything. If I had tried to do that, it would have taken much longer than an hour. In actuality, I’d shared not even of fraction of what I’d experienced at his hands. I didn’t disclose his sorcerer-like powers or the fact that he’d threatened Isha’s life. I made no mention of the poison secreted in my closet or the knives that fit into concealed pockets sewn into my gowns.
All it took to make her my champion was to speak of my father’s anger. I told her about the time he’d destroyed the nursery in a fit of rage over my crying as a baby. That he had beaten Isha senseless for allowing me to make such a noise. Deschen’s eyes filled with tears along with mine when I described him throwing me against the wall so hard that it knocked me unconscious. She gasped when I spoke of the months I’d spent locked away from the world with only the flowers to brighten my room.
There were enough stories to tell—tales not so uncommon to women—that I had plenty to share without going into any detail of the supernatural. I added that Hajari had also threatened me multiple times, making inappropriate advances, pinching and touching me when my father wasn’t nearby.
Finishing, I begged her not to mention Hajari’s abuse or do anything about it so my father wouldn’t know. She agreed but insisted on telling me about the secret passages in the palace. Then she surprised me by saying she thought I would be a good match for her son and that, if I was willing, she’d like to arrange a meeting.
The fact that she accepted me so readily left me feeling skeptical of her abilities to discern. I’d gotten the result I wanted, but I wondered what the cost would be and not just for me but what it would mean for her and her family.
My father returned at the two-week mark, and I gave him the news that Deschen had agreed to the match and wanted to arrange a meeting with Dhiren as soon as a lull in his duties permitted. The news pleased my father. He assured me that the skirmishes would immediately halt so that I might be introduced to my future fiancé.
When I inquired as to Isha’s health, he merely gave me a wide smile akin to a cat that’s cornered a mouse. Then he whispered more threats, saying that Hajari had been frustrated with my constant disappearances.
I answered with a partial truth. “Hajari makes some of the women here nervous. Deschen has banished him from the women’s room, and as I have been garnering her favor, I have been by her side almost continually.”
He stared me down as if trying to pick apart the secret thoughts in my head, but finally relented. “Very well. In his free time, I’ll have him spy on that Kadam.”
Lokesh left by whatever secret means he had come with a promise that he would visit me again, very soon.
The next day, I was sitting near Deschen half listening to the morning reports from the men she sent out to bring her news of the warfront, when one of them said something that perked up my ears.
As he bowed and left, I asked Deschen, “Was he indicating that your son has returned home?”
“Yes.” She beamed and then added. “Oh, not Dhiren though. It’s my younger son, Kishan, who has returned. I would imagine he will be joining us for our evening meal.”
“Oh.”
“Do not be concerned. You will meet Dhiren soon enough.”
I shook my head and gave her a small smile. “I look forward to it.”
“Very good. Now perhaps you will excuse me? I’d like to ensure the cooks will make Kishan’s favorite meal tonight.”
“Of course.”
She placed her hand on my lower back as I rose. “Perhaps you’d like to walk in the garden? There is a maze at the center that is difficult for most people to navigate. I should think you can easily avoid your father’s man there.” Lowering her voice, she whispered, “The trick is to always turn to the left.” With a twinkle in her eye, she departed along with her entourage, and when I was alone, I used my ability to become invisible. Taking her advice, I set out to explore the garden maze, something I’d longed to do.
The Rajaram garden was very different from the hanging gardens above the king’s palace, but it was beautiful all the same, filled with flowers of every description and leafy trees that smelled of perfumed sap. Confident that I remained unseen, I took my time exploring, fingering delicate plants and flower buds until I came across the maze.
Curious, I entered and turned left a dozen times until I came upon the center. A fountain full of lotus flowers beckoned me closer. In the middle of the maze surrounded by hedges so tall I couldn’t see over them, I felt safe, as if the plant life I loved so much could wrap around me and protect me from everything bad in the world.
Because I felt so secure, I let the power shielding me melt away and raised my face to the hot sun. When I became too warm, I shook the veil loose from my face and hair, let it fall about my arms, and ran my fingertips through the fountain, splashing the water on my neck and face. The humming of bees and the song of birds settled me, and I was able to forget where I was and, what was more important, who I was. In the garden, I was just a girl who loved flowers.
Among the pink and white lotus blossoms, I noticed something different, something I’d seen before. It was the same lavender water flower I’d found in the king’s fountain. “Impossible,” I whispered and reached down to pluck it from the water so I could examine it closer. “Perhaps you are more common than I thought.”
A rich voice behind me said, “I would argue that it is exceptional.”
Startled, I dropped the flower and turned. Standing at the opening to the center of the maze was the man I hadn’t been able to forget, though it had been weeks since I’d seen him. I blinked, momentarily dazzled by his wide smile until he took a step toward me. Then I remembered myself and hastily pulled my veil over my hair and face then lowered my head.
He hesitated at seeing my reaction. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
My tongue felt tied. I wanted to speak but couldn’t seem to figure out what to say. Instead of demanding an answer or growing impatient with me, he approached the fountain and picked up the flower I’d dropped on the stone. Gently, he placed it back among the other blossoms. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, though he didn’t seem to care if I answered. “I saw it in the garden of Bhreenam and asked for a cutting before I left. I thought my mother would like it.”
“It’s lovely,” I whispered.
Tiny little fish darted to the surface, reminding me of the koi where I’d stood next to him earlier, but this time he knew I was there. As if reading my mind, he said, “There is a story told by my mother’s people abo
ut these fish. Far away, there is a river full of them. Though it doesn’t happen frequently, some koi fish will swim all the way to the head of the river. There they find a large waterfall, and the bravest, most unwavering fish that exhaust themselves by leaping to the top are given a gift by the gods.”
“What would the gods give a fish?” I asked, quietly curious.
He tilted his head, and though I could see a gleam in his eye, acknowledging he’d heard, he didn’t turn toward me but reached out and ran his hand through the fountain and then cupped the back of his neck, wetting his skin with the cool water.
“They are transformed into great dragons. The waterfall at the head of the Yellow River has thus been named The Dragon’s Gate. So you see, any creature, even one as unassuming as a fish, can become something mighty. When they courageously endure their trials, they meet their destiny.”
What he’d said was remarkable. Not only because I was wrapped up in his ability to tell a story but because he seemed to know exactly what I needed to hear. I, too, struggled against great odds, and I thought if there was hope for a lowly fish, then perhaps the gods were aware of me as well. Maybe if I proved my worthiness, I could be granted the gift I sought.
“I apologize for my disheveled appearance,” he said, pulling me from my thoughts. “Kadam worked me over more than usual. I fear he punishes me for being gone these last few weeks. He thinks I’ve grown fat and lazy without his daily rounds.”
As he loosened his shirt and splashed water on his neck, I swallowed and wet my lips but was otherwise frozen in place. Kishan was anything but fat and lazy. In fact, he was the most beautiful specimen of a man I’d ever seen. His arms and chest were thick with muscle, and his shirt clung to his body in such a way that made me feel like I’d been standing too long in the sun.
Speaking of the sun, his golden eyes, especially when they glanced in my direction, were warm enough to melt me into a puddle where I stood. In fact, I was surprised I hadn’t pooled into the fountain already. I was imagining what it would be like to be the water he was splashing against his skin when something caught my eye.
It was the medallion. It hung about his neck, and I was absolutely sure it was the one my father was seeking. Cold fear seeped into my body, chilling my feverish skin. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I hugged myself. What was I going to do? If my father knew this young man wore the item he wanted, he’d kill him. Or he’d make me do it. Either way, Kishan’s beautiful golden eyes would be forever closed. His warmth traded in for the cold of the grave. I shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked. “Will you allow me to escort you back to the palace?”
I gave him a brief nod. He led me toward the open section of the hedges and said, “My name is Kishan, by the way.”
“I know,” I answered quietly.
Turning back to look at me, he gave me a puzzled glance but smiled. “I am at a disadvantage then. Perhaps the lovely young lady would grace me with her name?”
I stopped walking, my mind racing with the futility of what I was attempting to do. How could I save him, save his family, when my father planned such evils against them? I lifted my eyes and saw the cord at his throat. How would he die? I wondered. Would I wake one day to hear of black marks on his chest? Would he simply disappear? Or maybe his death would be at my hand. Perhaps I would be the one to draw my little knife across his throat. Perhaps I would be the one to press the cup full of poison to his lips.
Suddenly, I could look at him no longer. My name was the name of his killer. I was a murderess in the making. He at least deserved to put a name with the face of the one responsible. “Yesubai,” I whispered. “My name, it’s Yesubai.” Crushing my skirts in my fists, I darted past him and ran all the way back to the palace without ever glancing behind.
—
Though I tried to avoid Kishan, he seemed to always know where I was. He was one of the only men allowed inside the women’s room. I found him reclining at his mother’s feet, talking with her, on more than one occasion. Each time, he tried to engage me in conversation, but I’d make my excuses and leave. When we dined, I’d catch him watching me, and he often volunteered for guard duty when I walked about the grounds to appease Hajari.
Kishan seemed to sense my relief at having him near, and when we walked, I almost forgot that Hajari was even with us. Kishan had the ability to make me feel safe. It was similar to how I’d felt in the garden. It wasn’t just that he was a big man, it was something else. I didn’t realize until the third day that what I felt around him was hope. No one could be around Kishan and not be affected by his steadiness, by the way he was grounded.
Like the trees, his roots went deep, and I daydreamed that if he wrapped me in his arms, he could safely tuck me away within his branches and hide me from the world. He was shaken by nothing. He feared nothing. Watching him spar with his soldiers, I could see that they respected and trusted him utterly. What was more, I was getting dangerously close to feeling the same way about him.
All too quickly, Deschen announced that the caravan was ready to take me to meet Dhiren. As I was loaded into the carriage, I lifted the curtains, seeking Kishan’s face, but he didn’t come to see me off. I told myself it was for the best and settled in for the long trip to the far side of the empire.
When I met Dhiren, I was struck by how handsome he was. He looked more like his mother than his father. His eyes were startlingly blue, but as kind as he was, I missed the warmth of Kishan’s golden gaze. We spoke at length. He was polite, well-mannered, everything a woman should want in a man, but there was something missing. There was a distance between us that felt too wide to breach. Though I watched him carefully during the time we were together, I never saw a cord about his neck indicating he wore a piece of the amulet my father sought.
It was obvious that the difficulties he’d encountered with my father’s army had distracted him, but he never blamed me for the fact, and he didn’t even discuss the diplomatic aspects of our union. He merely said he looked forward to our marriage and had a great hope that we would be happy together.
Documents were signed, and he was courteous and attentive in making sure I had every comfort he could afford for my journey back, but when he pressed his lips against my hand in farewell, all I could feel was regret. He was a good man, a wonderful one even. A man as different from my father as the night was from the day. That made my complicity in my father’s plans all the more difficult to bear.
I hadn’t been back to the palace for even a day when my father made another appearance, but this time it was an official one.
Six
Betrayal
A courier brought word to the palace that Dhiren approved the match several days before I arrived, and in anticipation of this announcement, my father had been notified. On the morning after my return, I was summoned to the hall of the emperor. Kishan nearly knocked me over on his way out.
He was angry—a not altogether uncommon emotion to experience when in my father’s presence—but as he caught me, his eyes only lit on me briefly before glancing away. It was like he could no longer stomach looking at me, and the idea cut me with the pain of a thousand needles. I was so overcome by the feeling that I nearly forgot I was in the presence of my father.
Lokesh approached me while Kishan quickly left the room and disappeared. “Yesubai. How pleasing it is to see you in good health, my dear,” he said as if he were happy to see me. But behind his public mask, his eyes glittered maniacally, and I could see whispered promises of agonizing things to come.
“Father,” I said as I lowered my head. “I trust your travel has been without incident?”
“Indeed. Congratulations are in order. Your betrothal is cause for both our realms to celebrate.”
“Yes,” Rajaram answered. “In fact, we will celebrate tonight.”
My father took my arm in a tight grip that was hidden by the folds of my dress. “Very good,” he said. “Perhaps later tonight then we can discuss when you think you
r son might be prepared to finalize the union?”
“I assure you that his engagement to Yesubai will be foremost on my son’s mind,” Deschen said. “I’m sure that as soon as occasion permits, he will come speedily home to make her his bride.”
Lokesh gave Deschen a saccharine smile that barely disguised a leer. “Until tonight then, I’ll be reacquainting myself with my daughter.”
Deschen’s poised expression turned into a frown, and she rose from her throne. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to spend some time with her this afternoon. I’ve grown quite fond of our chats.”
“Of course.” Lokesh bowed slightly and then turned and left the room with me in tow. He said nothing and even dismissed Hajari as we walked out of the palace and away from the rows of soldiers who guarded it. When he was satisfied that we were far enough away, he let me go and stood with his back toward me as he surveyed the land and the nearby garden. Putting his hands on his hips, he slowly circled, his eyes taking in everything around us until they landed on me. What I saw in his expression surprised me. He was…happy.
“You’ve done well,” he said.
“I am glad to have pleased you, Father.”
“Somehow you’ve accomplished even more than I hoped. It would seem your beauty is worth something after all.”
I’d never seen my father in such a mood. He was almost dancing with delight.
“Not only have you finagled a marriage contract with the eldest prince, but you have his younger brother salivating after you as well. He practically begged me to consider him instead of Dhiren. I, of course, insisted that Dhiren was the better match. I wouldn’t want there to be any doubt regarding your future station.”
Kishan wanted me? The little knot of hope in my heart unfurled. For just a moment, I considered the way the emperor embraced his queen, and I wondered if there was even the tiniest possibility that Kishan might someday hold me in such a way.