“So much so that it hurts sometimes,” he admitted.
“Is that why you’ve always hated me so much?” I wondered, tears spilling down my cheeks.
“I’ve never hated you,” he said, and when it was plain that I didn’t believe him, he sighed. “I was angry with you, because you were my heir, the product of the union of myself and the only woman I ever loved. And I thought you were a broken, foolish deviant, and it killed me inside to see it. I thought that you had stolen from me the one chance I’d been given on this earth to have a son and an heir I could be truly proud of.”
That just made me cry harder. I’d always known I was a disappointment, an embarrassment, a black mark of shame on my father’s otherwise spotless record, but I’d never heard it put so damningly. And he wasn’t wrong. I had stolen from him the chance at having the son and heir of his dreams by being born the way I had been. No wonder he could hardly stand to look at me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“You’re sorry?” he asked, his confusion plain on his face. “For what?”
“For being this way, obviously,” I answered, gesturing to my pretty peshwaz and my dupatta and all of it. “God knows I tried so hard not to be. I wanted to be someone you could love. I wanted to be someone you could be proud of. I prayed every night that God would remake me so that I would be, but he never did.”
“I’m glad he didn’t,” my father said.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m glad he didn’t answer your foolish prayers,” he told me. “I’ve seen how your cousins turned out. I’ve seen my own brothers, whose avarice and ambition outstripped their abilities time and again. They could never have accomplished what you have. They will never accomplish what you will accomplish. You will bring greatness to this family and this empire that will be spoken of for generations to come. My name will be a footnote when set beside yours, I see that now. You may be a girl instead of a boy, but you’re the heiress I always dreamed of and more. And Sikander was right, I should have seen that from the first, but I was too certain that I knew best, too fixed in my eyes, too closed-minded to understand. But now I understand. You are my wife’s daughter, and you will go on to do great things in this world if I get out of your way and let you.”
“I never wanted you out of the way . . .” I protested. “Just the opposite.”
“Another reason to value daughters more highly than sons, then,” he said, and it took me a moment to realize he was making a joke. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d joked around me. Maybe he never had.
He put his arm around my shoulders, and I flinched away from the sudden touch, which sent shooting pains through my spine. I choked back a cry of agony and fought to catch my breath.
“Are you all right? Do you need the doctor?”
My father was holding me close, keeping my back carefully supported so the pain would subside. I didn’t know what to think about that. Maybe it was best I didn’t think at all. The last thing I wanted was to question this beautiful dream until I woke from it.
“I’m all right,” I said, though I knew I didn’t sound very convincing.
“You’re tired and you’re hurt; we’ll keep this brief,” he said, still holding me in a way he hadn’t since I was small enough to ride in his zahhak saddle with him. “I intend that Hina will be recognized as a subahdar in her own right, as will Viputeshwar. She will rule Zindh, he will rule Mahisagar.”
“You’re taking my provinces?” I couldn’t believe that he would do that to me. It didn’t make any sense at all.
“You’ll be too busy to govern them,” he said. “As the crown princess, you will be my coruler of the empire, because one day you will be its sultana. The first reigning sultana since the last time a Razia took the throne.”
“And Arjun?” I asked.
“He will be your husband, but you will rule Nizam,” he replied. “And your sisters, they will be elevated to princesses of the blood. I will acknowledge them as my own children.”
“Because of a letter from Sikander?” I asked, still scarcely believing that such a small thing could have changed so much.
“Because of a letter from Sikander,” he agreed. “Now you should rest.” He reached up and stroked my hair. “You need to heal if you’re going to be ready for the wedding. I want to hold it in Nizam, and you’ll need to be able to ride for that.”
A wedding to Arjun. Coruler of Nizam. I shook my head in disbelief. After everything I’d been through, it felt like a dream come true.
CHAPTER 35
The wedding had been like something out of a dream. My sisters, Tamara, Hina, and all of her celas had come the day before to do my mehendi, and though Hina and Tamara had tried to make me blush with their ribald advice, they’d forgotten that I had been a courtesan for longer than I’d been a princess and that I knew a thing or two about how to please my man. Then we’d signed the marriage contract, just Arjun and me, my father and his father, and Sakshi and Lakshmi because they’d insisted. It was witnessed by my father’s chief cleric, and we’d signed it in the temple
