Kali’s long, glossy black braid is gone, her lovely gray eyes almost obscured among the lines of ash. Amira, on the other hand, looks far less recognizable because of the many wrinkles around her mouth and her eyes—wrinkles that I’m certain she didn’t have a few months ago. Indeed, I wouldn’t have known her if not for her dark eyes and expression—a look of disdain that I’m far too familiar with. She gives the queens the same look now—and while Amba remains unflappable, I’m secretly impressed by the way it makes the other two cringe.
“I hope your accommodations are adequate, Sadhvi ji,” Queen Farishta says. “As I mentioned, we have more than enough rooms—”
“And as I mentioned before, we require nothing more than the earth under our feet and the goddess overhead. One room is adequate.” Amira’s voice is cold. “My rani, coins do not move us. Neither does luxury.”
“Forgive Rani Farishta for her ignorance, Sadhvi ji,” Amba cuts in smoothly. “She comes from the Brimlands. They know nothing about austerity.”
“As if you know anything about it!” Farishta snaps, no doubt referring to the fine jewels and the expensive green silk sari Amba herself is wearing today.
“I wonder,” Kali says, “if the queens have brought us here to solve their troubles or to listen to them engage in petty rivalries.”
A chill that has nothing to do with the temperature permeates the room. Queen Janavi, the only queen who hasn’t spoken during this exchange, hides a smile behind her hand.
“We shall begin the cleansing ceremony now,” Kali goes on, pretending that she isn’t being sent death glares by the first and third of Lohar’s queens. “Let the lamps be lit. By the blessings of Asha, the first queen of Ambar, and the sky goddess, who bore her…”
“By the blessings of Asha, the first queen of Ambar, and the sky goddess, who bore her,” we repeat, launching into the first verse of the Sky Scroll. The ceremony is long and rather boring. Neither Amira nor Kali spare me a single glance, and I have to catch myself from dozing once. Queen Janavi winces often, her hands reaching out to massage her knees. What surprises me most is how well both Amira and Kali stay in character, reciting enormous chunks of the scroll without even looking at it.
At the end of the ceremony, they rise to their feet. First, they approach Farishta, to whom Amira gives a bottle filled with yellow liquid: “Drink this and you should have a son within the year.” Next to Amba, whom Kali offers a single flower: “Blessings for healthy grandchildren.” Next to Janavi, who is given a handful of tulsi leaves: “Mix these into your morning tea and your joint pains will ease.”
By the time they come to me, my heart is hammering. Amira gives me a cool look. “Come closer, girl. Let me see your face.”
Her hands cup my cheeks, draw me close, then she murmurs so softly that only I can hear: “The green room.”
The room right next to mine. My heart leaps. I give her the tiniest of nods.
“May your binding be long and happy,” Amira says out loud before releasing me. “Rise, my queens. Rise, future crown princess. Let us now offer prayers to the sky goddess at her temple.”
The prayer at the temple, which is on the grounds outside Rani Mahal, takes a surprisingly short time. Or maybe it only feels that way because I’m thinking of ways to get to the green room without being followed by my too-watchful attendant. It’s not until it’s time for the afternoon meal, when Amira and Kali finally take their leave, that I have an answer.
“Rani Amba.”
The queen turns in my direction—the closest she’ll come to dignifying me with a Yes?
“I’m not feeling very well.” It’s not a lie. There has been a sick feeling in my stomach ever since my encounter with Cavas this morning. “I … I think it’s something I ate for breakfast.”
To my relief, the queen doesn’t touch me or question the lie. “Go, then. The evening meal will be sent to your chambers later in the day.”
“Feel better, Siya ji,” Queen Janavi says. There’s a kind look in her eyes, and I have a sense that, under other circumstances, I might have even liked her.
I bow, careful not to turn my back to them, then slowly make my way to Rani Mahal, clutching my stomach the whole time.
“Rest, Siya ji,” my attendant says softly. She places the cups of rose sherbet and frothy chaas I’d asked for on my bedside table. “You can drink this once you feel better. I will be in the gold room, cleaning. If you need anything, ring the bell.” She gestures to a heavily embroidered sash hanging right by my giant four-poster bed. I simulate a weak nod. I wait for long moments, listening to the sounds in the corridor, waiting for them to subside completely. Then, slowly, I slip out of my room. My attendant is nowhere in sight. I look both ways again before quietly pushing open the door to the green room.
Amira and Kali are seated cross-legged on the floor, their eyes closed, hands pressed together in meditation.
“It’s me,” I say quietly.
Their eyes snap open at once. “Thank Zaal,” Amira mutters, rising to her feet. “I’ve had enough of queens and serving girls barging in here, asking for solutions to their troubled love lives.”
“It’s only been one night, Amira,” Kali admonishes before wrapping me in a warm hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Gul. We’re going to get you out of here.”
I stiffen in her arms, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Get me out?” I say.
“I suppose there must be another reason we’ve shaved our hair off and infiltrated the palace,” Amira says sarcastically.
“We were so afraid when you disappeared,” Kali says, releasing me. “Juhi was beside herself when she found your note. It was only thanks to Agni that we were able to track you to the flesh market and later
