I look into eyes that are neither brown nor green but a mix of the two. Wrinkles fan out from their corners like rivers against the woman’s deep-brown skin, bracketing the curves of her pursed lips. Not a single strand of her silver braid appears out of place. Unlike the rest of us, she wears a sari made of orange cotton, simple except for the designs of the two moons embedded in the cloth, reflected with her every move. A supervisor.
“At least your hair isn’t untidy like some of the other girls’. Goddess knows how many times I’ve had to undo and redo their plaits during the early days. Use these.” The woman—Yukta Didi—holds up a pair of brass hairpins, which I use to fix the dupatta neatly over my head.
“Now listen carefully, Siya, for I will say this only once. There are twenty-five serving girls working in Rani Mahal and five of us supervisors. Rani Amba’s girls report either to Jaya Didi or to me—but mostly to me. Your main duties will involve waiting on Rani Amba and Rajkumari Malti and ensuring that their needs are seen to. You are allowed anywhere on this side of Ambar Fort, in the royal stables, and in parts of the garden that are open to the residents of Rani Mahal. On no account must you venture to the west side of the fort, where Raj Mahal lies.”
“Why not?” The words slip out of me before I can stop them. How am I supposed to kill the king if I’m forbidden from going where he lives? Though it’s not like I’ll be able to kill him anytime soon without my daggers.
“Raj Mahal is surrounded by a rekha—a magical line that allows no woman to pass through,” she says coolly. “Doing so results in instant death.”
“Even for the queens?” I ask, surprised.
“The queens have their own ways of getting to Raj Mahal. Which really is none of your concern. What you must do is avoid the sort of disturbance you created with the princes this morning.”
Disturbance? “That wasn’t my fault.” I feel my voice rising and force myself to lower it when I see her raised eyebrows. “I wasn’t anywhere near Raj Mahal!”
“You don’t have to be.” Her words may be censure or warning or perhaps both. “Any other questions?”
In the corner of the room, right next to my bed, a spider delicately swings from a thread, barely an arm’s length from my pillow.
“No,” I say. “No other questions.”
20GUL
The servants’ quarters—“women only,” Yukta Didi says—are on a lower level within Rani Mahal, accessible only by a pair of ramps instead of stairs, the stone rubbed smooth by frequent use.
“Most of the women working inside the palace live here.” Yukta Didi walks ahead, navigating the steep ramp with more agility than I expect from someone of her age.
“What about the Sky Warriors?” I ask, thinking of the ones stationed outside the gold room. “I mean, some are women, aren’t they? Where do they live?”
“Most live in the barracks in the Walled City, though a few live in Ambar Fort itself.”
I press close to the wall, trying not to slip over the stone and fall backward into the dark. The ramp leads into a small, rectangular lobby, which branches off into three corridors.
“Janavi, Farishta, Amba.” She points out each corridor. “You are expected to know where each rani stays and, if called, to serve her within reason. Your badge marks you as Rani Amba’s personal staff, so your first loyalty will always remain with her.”
Before I can ask what “within reason” entails and risk another reprimand, she’s already moving to the corridor on the far left—the one that leads to Amba’s apartments. The air here changes almost at once to a cloying mix of frankincense and roses.
Yukta Didi pauses outside a green-and-gold door. “You’ll be helping me clean the green room today.”
To my surprise, a familiar figure steps out: the turbaned prince I’d seen outside Rani Mahal earlier this morning.
“Rajkumar Amar.” Yukta Didi drops in a bow. I realize a little late that I’m supposed to mimic her movements, especially when the prince’s gaze locks with mine, his eyes narrowing with interest.
In my haste to bow, I nearly trip over my own feet. Yukta Didi glares at me.
“I hope you are well now, Rajkumar,” she tells him, her tone shifting to something more personal. Motherly. “The herbs I gave you—”
“Worked wonders,” he says, smiling. “Rani Ma wouldn’t have really hurt any of us. You always worry too much, Yukta Didi.”
“What else am I supposed to do?” she scolds. “It’s because of you and your brothers that my hair has turned gray over the last twenty-one years.”
“Are you sure? I thought you were aging backward.” He gives me a small smile, and, oddly, I find myself wanting to smile back. “Is this your new trainee?”
“Yes. We’re supposed to be cleaning the green room—which is barred to everyone else at the moment,” she says, stern again. “The cupboard is still infested with blood bats.”
A frisson of fear goes through me. Blood bats?
“I know. Rani Ma told me.” Prince Amar’s serious eyes light up. “I wanted to have a look before you cleared them out. When diluted, their venom can heal some of the most complicated magical injuries, did you know? Vaid Roshan said it’s a new experimental healing technique.”
“Vaid Roshan had better stick to mending bruises and healing bones with his regular magic if he doesn’t want to be out of work,” Yukta Didi says sharply. “Goddess only knows what kinds of people get hired at the palace these days!”
Heat rushes to my face at the last comment, especially when Amar says: “Speaking of which—may I have a word with your new trainee?”
“Rajkumar, she’s new, she didn’t really know—”
“It’s all right, Didi,” he interrupts gently. “I am not going to punish her. I assume Rani Ma has already done so.”
There’s a long pause. “I’ll be waiting inside,” Yukta Didi says, a
