The outcome is still the same. They are suffering due to me. Yatin is sick thanks to me. I am fire, razing everything in my path.

I bury my regret and stand to leave. “Please inform me of Yatin’s condition as soon as you hear.”

“You’ve made the right decision.” Indah boosts her assurance with a taut smile. “This is best for all our people.”

I am no longer in the position to determine what is good for anyone. I have been wrong too many times. It would be arrogant of me to assume I can watch over the Zhaleh as well as four Virtue Guards. The book is better off in Lestari, far away from me.

Prince Ashwin is not in his chamber, but Opal rests on the lounge. I dismiss Rohan to finish his supper and settle in to wait for the prince’s return. Books are still scattered about Ashwin’s room, piled on every surface. I scan the religious texts and notice Enlil’s Hundredth Rani among them. A shiver runs down me, as I think of Tarek’s belief that I am Enlil’s rani reincarnated. With the revelation of my powers, I doubt our people believe I am the dead favored queen now.

I turn my attention to Opal. “When will the prince return?”

“I don’t know,” she says, sitting up and stretching from her nap. “He’s gone to request more aid for the encampments, but after today . . .” I grimace and slide my gaze away from her. “Kindred, the dock fire wasn’t your fault.”

The people of Iresh don’t think so.

“Please don’t call me kindred,” I answer softly.

Opal sighs at my back.

Ashwin comes inside and slams the door hard. “Opal, find Brother Shaan and—” He notices me, and his whole body slumps, shedding his anger. “Kalinda, I didn’t know you were here.”

“May I have a word, Your Majesty?”

His chin ticks sideways at my use of his formal title. “Of course. Opal, you’re excused.”

I wait for Opal to leave and close the door before I speak. “Why didn’t you tell me the illness has spread to the military encampment?”

“I heard about it upon our return from the river and went to the sultan straightaway. I waited two hours for a ninety-second meeting with him.” Ashwin runs a frustrated hand through his disheveled hair; he looks as though he has been doing that for hours. “Kuval refuses to increase his aid. All of his help is going to the ailing civilians. He thought that’s what I’d want.”

“Is it?”

“I wish I knew.” Ashwin unbuttons his jacket with swift jerks. “The Galers’ constant wind wards off the mosquitoes, but people are still falling ill. The death toll has risen to fifty. Children are among them.” He removes his tunic jacket, revealing a thin undershirt, and tosses it onto the bed. The jacket slides off and falls to the floor in a heap. Ashwin grips the back of a chair to steady himself. “The sultan told me he closed his border to more refugees. He says our people are safer there, but they’re my responsibility.”

I share his dissatisfaction. I hate not knowing if Brac and Mathura are all right. “Indah told me. She also said the people know I’m a Burner. They reacted as I feared.”

His voice softens some. “They’ll come around once you win the tournament.”

I find no deception in his reassurance. He believes the people will adore me, or perhaps he cannot comprehend how they could not adore me.

I pick up his jacket from the floor and hold it close. “You’re already more a rajah than Tarek ever was.”

“You will make me a better one.” Ashwin steps to me and lays his fingers over my almost-faded rank mark on my hand. “You give me the strength to stand up for myself and our empire.”

Knowing it is dangerous to hope, I push out my squeaky voice. “Did you mean what you said on the dock about setting me free?”

“You’ve been free since Rajah Tarek died.” Ashwin squares himself to me, his stare insistent. “I spent my childhood trapped in one room; I will not trap one person to me for the rest of her life.” His finger strokes mine. “I ask the gods every day why I was born into this disaster. I didn’t choose this fate either, Kalinda.”

“Rajah Tarek—”

“Chose you out of hundreds of temple wards. He could have had anyone for his final rani, but he saw something in you. Tarek may have been flawed, but in this he was completely inspired.” Ashwin’s gaze meanders over my face, savoring every feature. “All I ask is that when you look at me, you see me not Tarek.”

“I do see you, but there’s more to consider.”

“You mean love,” he replies, lowering his forehead nearer to mine. His velvety-brown eyes engulf my sight. “I have no experience with women, so I cannot convince you that my affection is real. But I can say that we will rule as equals and achieve great good together. Promise me you’ll think about it.”

His lips hover over mine, taking nothing. He has given me a choice—more than I have ever had—but everything I do leaves a ripple. I cannot tiptoe across the pond of life without leaving huge, life-changing wakes. I must stop thinking of what was or what I hoped would be. Deven let me go. I should quit holding on to something that no longer exists.

I have been running since I left Vanhi, running from Hastin, from Anjali, from my mistakes. My time running stops now.

“I promise,” I say.

Warmth fills Ashwin’s expression. He turns his head and brushes his lips against my cheek, a whisper of a caress. “I understand your heart won’t change overnight, so, for now, consider what’s best for the empire.” Fervent intent coarsens his voice. “I will do anything for the good of my people.”

A scalding tremor skitters down my spine. Ashwin’s fervor reminds me of Tarek’s. I am uncertain which is more troubling: my nightmares of Tarek or the part of him that I discern in his son.

23

DEVEN

In the middle of the night, as I am falling asleep, two large men grab me from my cell and lead me to the guardhouse.

Vizier Gyan is seated within at a writing table that faces the door. He jots something down in a book and waves at an empty chair without looking up. I enter and sit across from him. The walls are barren, though hung over the desk is an ornamental imperial khanda with a beryl-jeweled hilt. The writing table is organized to perfection, not an ink quill out of place. In case the vizier is observing me, I steal glances at the stocked armory in the corner, a lock dangling from the closed door. Khandas. Crossbows. Machetes. Enough weapons for a small army.

The vizier shuffles his parchments aside, squaring the corners into precise angles. My interest turns to a book before him. Runes I cannot read mark the cover. More experienced brethren of the Parijana faith can understand runes, but I did not study with the Brotherhood long enough to interpret them myself.

“Captain Naik,” he says, lifting his chin. “Now that you’ve had time to contemplate your place here, I have some questions for you. How close are you to Kindred Kalinda?”

I hesitate. Why ask me about Kali? “I am—was—her guard, sir.”

“She broke into your cell on your first night here because you were her guard?”

“I cannot speak to her reasoning.”

Vizier Gyan clasps his hands in front of him, his sleeves inching up slightly. He wears his usual long-sleeved tunic jacket with untailored cuffs. Odd. He is fastidious about the orderliness of his writing desk, yet his sleeves hang too long. “Prior to my telling you, did you know she’s a Burner?”

“I . . . I’m not sure I understand. Do these questions pertain to the trial tournament?”

“I’m conducting the questioning, Captain.” The vizier reclines in his chair, casual in his control. “Did you know Kindred Kalinda is a Burner?”

His surliness when he says “Burner” makes me wish Brac were here to singe his nose hairs. “Yes.”

“Did she conspire with the bhuta warlord Hastin to murder Rajah Tarek and infiltrate the Turquoise Palace?”

“No.”

“Then why did she run from Vanhi?”

“As you said, Hastin and his rebels invaded the palace. She feared for her life and ran.”

“After she killed Rajah Tarek,” he says. My eyes expand in shock. “You needn’t protect her. I know she covered her body in poisoned lotion and seduced Tarek to his death.”

My gut turns to serrated ice. Who did he hear this from? I never questioned Kali about her wedding night or let the details enter my mind. I cringe at the image of her with Rajah Tarek in that way. “I cannot speak to rumors, sir.”

“Sultan Kuval’s first-ever wife, my sister, was killed by a Burner. My brother-in-law believes Kalinda is inherently evil. Like fire, she’s driven to destroy. Yesterday, during her first trial, she burned down our docks. Two innocent fishermen lost their lives.”

I steal a moment to absorb this. Kali would never intentionally hurt anyone, but her actions tend to inadvertently cause trouble.

Vizier Gyan rests his forearms on the table. “Have you had any contact with the kindred since the night she came here?”

“No.”

“One of the Lestarians came to my gate this evening and offered his healing services to your man, Yatin. Your little outburst about ‘the bear’ reached someone.”

Praise Anu, Kali or Natesa heard my message and arranged help for Yatin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Vizier Gyan exhales an irritated breath at my buttoned smirk. “Captain, why did Prince Ashwin absolve you of treason?”

“I don’t know.” I wrestle the urge to shift in my chair. The vizier is trying to rile me. I have employed the same tactics while interrogating soldiers, poking at them until I find the one weakness that becomes their downfall.

Vizier Gyan purses his lips thoughtfully. “Are you aware of how close Prince Ashwin has become with Kindred Kalinda?” I force impassivity into my expression. “They spend a lot of time alone together. Yesterday morning she was seen leaving his bedchamber in her nightclothes.”