Third Daughter (The Dharian Affairs, Book One) Page 14

  The prince pulled back from their embrace then cupped the woman’s cheeks and spoke softly, his face near hers. The words were obviously meant to be intimate, but Aniri couldn’t help straining to hear.

  She couldn’t discern them, and then the heat of embarrassment crawled up her neck. She was spying on the prince—not on his plans for peace or war, but on his love life. One she hadn’t given a thought to. Aniri turned away, no doubt befuddling the guard who was looking rapidly back and forth between Aniri and the prince with wide eyes, saying nothing.

  Aniri marched back to her room, her chest growing more tight with each step. What did she expect? They had agreed they would have lovers—the prince explicitly brought it up as a condition, saying he knew well what she was giving up. She had a lover, even if she might never see Devesh again. It shouldn’t bother her in the slightest if the prince had one as well. She had no intention of even going through with the wedding, so what consequence could it have for her?

  Yet, she still was fighting a vise clamping down on her chest.

  He hadn’t lied to her—at least not directly. And really, for what purpose would the prince have told her he had a lover? He was seeking out her hand in marriage for explicit political purposes.

  By the time she approached her room, Aniri convinced herself the tightness was merely nerves about the formal engagement, nothing any more complicated or emotional. Or perhaps a twinge of jealousy that her own lover might be on his way to prison if he hadn’t already fled her country.

  When she stepped into the room, Priya seemed frantic, imploring Janak to send out a search party for her. Janak, for his part, was a strange bundle of agitation and seemed nearly willing to do so. One of the prince’s personal attendants had arrived to escort them—he stood off to the side at a proper distance of respect, but he had a look of panic as well.

  “My lady!” Priya seized Aniri’s hands. “Thank the gods you have returned! We are due at the party. We must leave at once.”

  Priya flew around her, making minute adjustments to her hair and bringing a veil to drape over her head. Aniri pulled it off, causing small cries of alarm from Priya as the veil pulled at the jewels she had carefully placed in Aniri’s hair. “I’m not wearing a bridal veil, Priya.”

  “But it’s tradition—”

  “We are making some of our own traditions today,” she said impatiently. “A Dharian has never wed a Jungali before, anyway. I think there is some leeway to make adjustments.”

  Then she turned her back on her handmaiden and gestured for their escort to lead the way.

  Aniri took deep breaths as she slowly followed the prince’s attendant. She ignored the sideways looks from Priya, determined to affect a calm demeanor by the time they reached the engagement party. The prince’s six guards, plus Janak, formed a ring of starched, uniformed protection around them. Aniri couldn’t imagine any assassin foolish enough to attack her in the hallway in broad daylight, but she held her tongue and focused on playing her part.

  When they arrived at a pair of large, ornate doors, the prince and another assistant were waiting for them. The doors were still closed—apparently they would make their entrance together. Garlands of white and yellow flowers framed the door and draped along the walls and windows in great sweeping lines that left trails of fallen petals on the floor. Their fragrance infused the air with a joyful feeling that matched the prince’s broad smile. He stood tall in his formal black clothes. She came to stand by his side, her dress trailing behind and stirring the flower petals into the air.

  “Don’t tell my mother, gods rest her soul, but I believe you may be the most beautiful Queen that Jungali has ever had.” The prince took her hand and wrapped it around his arm. He faced the door, awaiting their entrance, but slipped a sideways smile to her.

  “You’re flattering me again, Prince Malik.”

  “I am a barbarian, after all,” he said with a grin. “It’s not as if I can help it.”

  Aniri squeezed his arm lightly, tugging him closer. “Could I have a word in private with you, before we go in?”

  He frowned. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, I just...” She wasn’t quite sure what to say without the dozen people standing around them all overhearing.

  “Of course we can take a moment to ourselves. I think the party will wait for us.”

  He led her down the hall, waiving off several guards who seemed unsure as to whether they should follow or not. He pulled her into an alcove, just far enough that they couldn’t be easily overheard or fully seen. The window backlit his broad shouldered frame as he leaned against it.

  “What is it, Aniri?” He still held her hand, running his finger over her ring and taking in the Jungali crests inked on the back of her hand. “Or are you trying to feed the rumors with an obvious tryst in the hallway?”

  Heat ran up her face. “No, I just wanted to...” She swallowed, not quite sure how to admit to spying on him with his lover without embarrassing them both. Her gaze dropped to his chest, avoiding the humor in his pale amber eyes. Today he wore crown jewels as well, in the form of a glittering cascade of black crystals that ringed the neck of his embroidered jacket. They blended with the black and silver brocade until it was difficult to distinguish one from the other.

  He touched her chin, bringing her gaze up to meet his. “What’s wrong?”

  She forced the words out in a rush. “Do you think we’ll need to kiss during the engagement party?”

  “Is that what you’re worried about?” He seemed puzzled and slightly amused.

  She sighed and pulled her hand from where he still held it, putting a small distance between them, but keeping tucked in the alcove, shielded somewhat from their onlookers.

  “I don’t think it will be necessary,” he said gently. “The rumors have been quite effective, all on their own.”

  “I simply wanted you to know I would understand. If you would prefer not to. Given that your lover is here for the party.” There, she had said it. Somehow it felt better not to have that secret within her, along with all the rest.

  “My lover?” The prince’s eyebrows had flown up to the top of his forehead, and he seemed truly surprised.

  “Yes, I...” Why was this so difficult to admit? It had been an innocent mistake. “I happened upon you in the hallway. She’s quite lovely. I’m sure this is difficult enough for you, the sacrifice of not marrying her, without having a public display as well—”

  “You happened upon me? In the hallway? With my lover?” The prince’s frown and puzzlement grew deeper with each word.

  “Well, yes, just a few moments ago... I didn’t mean to intrude, but your guard was with me, and he saw you as well. I thought you might want to say something to him before a rumor started—”

  “Ah!” The puzzlement disappeared, and the mirth was back on his face. He let out a small laugh. “Yes, I will definitely have to speak to my guard. Although he probably recognizes the princess.” A smirk was growing on his face.

  “Princess?” Aniri asked, feeling like she had suddenly lost her footing.

  “My brother’s wife? She became a princess once he married her.” Prince Malik’s grin grew. “And no, she is not my lover. Although that would be quite the gossip, so you are quite right I should make that clear to my guard. In case there was any misunderstanding.”

  Aniri’s face flamed again, and she couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry for... making assumptions.”

  His voice grew gentle. “No, Aniri, I’m sorry.” His finger touched her chin again, the warmth of it lifting her gaze as much as his touch. “This all has to be very difficult for you. First, leaving home. Then the fire. Then being locked away all week like a crown jewel hidden in a vault.”

  “It has been driving me mad,” Aniri said with a sigh. Finally, some of the tension drained from her shoulders. “I’m not sure how much more I’ll be able to stand.”

  “Then we shall have to make sure you are safe wherever you wish to
go. It’s not fair to lock you up, like a criminal, when the ones who attacked you have their freedom.”

  “It seems there’s never much in the way of freedom for royal members of the court.” It felt good to say it aloud, and the tightness in her chest eased as well.

  He gave her a small, sad smile. “Or privacy, I’m afraid. I was telling Nisha, my brother’s wife,” he said with a small tip of his head, “that the rumors were true.”

  “That we’re madly in love?” Aniri said, looking askance at him.

  “No. That you are brave and noble, in spite of being a princess from the plains. That you’re undaunted by assassins and fire, still determined to marry to broker the peace I promised when my brother died. The people are quite taken with you, Aniri.”

  “You were telling all this to your brother’s wife?”

  “Actually she was informing me about the people’s feelings. They’ve always had a special place in their heart for her, and when my brother died... well, let’s just say, if the lineage were a little more direct, she would be Queen, and I could comfortably retire.”

  “Would that be your wish?” Aniri asked, her discomfort completely vanishing under the prince’s words. “Would you leave the crown behind, if you could?”

  He leaned back against the window, crossing his arms. “There are days I am tempted. I won’t lie. But as long as my duty calls, I’ll heed that.”

  “I understand.” And she did, maybe more than he knew.

  His voice softened. “Once the engagement is formal, there should be a brief respite from all the scrutiny. It’s normally the time for courtship, and with the wedding only two weeks away, the people will expect us to spend time together. Perhaps that would be a good time for us to travel the provinces? I can’t think of a better use of the future Queen’s time than getting to know her country and her people.”

  Travel. In a new exotic land. It was just what Aniri had wanted all her life: to get out of the capital and the courtly life in Dharia. And traveling would give her a chance to find out more about the flying weapon—if it even existed at all.

  “I would like that very much.”

  “It is settled, then.” He reached to the garland of flowers tracing the edge of the window behind him and plucked one white bloom from the string. He tucked it behind her ear, and for some reason that simple motion stirred something inside her again. The prince had a way of doing that when she least expected it.

  “I can’t wait to show you the beauty of my kingdom. But first, I’m afraid we must receive all the well-wishers who want to meet their future Queen. Do you think you can manage?”

  “Of course. And I think we’ve been here long enough to ignite quite a few new rumors.” The blush that was creeping up her cheeks would surely feed it even more.

  He grinned. She stuck a royal smile on her face and took his arm, pulling him with mock urgency from the alcove. His eyes danced as he feigned a protest, then joined her in returning to the entourage awaiting them.

  The engagement party was a spectacle.

  A sweeping curved banquet table embraced the ballroom. Instead of cushions, like at the Queen’s tea, immense chairs crowded the table with seatbacks two times taller than the dignitaries and diplomats seated in them. Attendees filed by, and Prince Malik introduced them to Aniri. General Garesh had packed away his menacing looks in the presence of the court—he paid his respects, then was lost in the crowd. There were many other representatives from each of the four Jungali provinces, but also dignitaries from Samir, which surprised her. She didn’t have long to think on it as the steady stream of guests required their introductions.

  Once everyone returned to their seats, the prince introduced her to his brother’s wife, the same woman she saw in his arms in the hallway. Her heart-shaped face and sparkling black eyes were even more beautiful up close. Not all of the royal Jungali had the pale amber eyes Aniri had quickly become accustomed to on Prince Malik.

  “Princess Aniri of Dharia, it’s my pleasure to introduce Princess Malik of Jungali. Also known as Nisha to her friends… and sometimes detractors.” His voice was formal, but there was a laugh underneath it, and a barely disguised smile on his face.

  Aniri extended her hand, but Nisha enveloped her in a hug that rustled the silks on both their dresses. She held Aniri for several seconds, and Aniri struggled to return the unexpected affection.

  Finally, Nisha pulled back. “I’m so very glad you’re joining our family, Aniri.” Her warm manner left Aniri stumbling for words.

  “Thank you,” she managed, then felt a twist her in stomach, knowing the ruse would eventually wither any affection Nisha had for her now.

  “You’ve already had such a positive effect on our Ash.” She patted his arm.

  He gave her a subtle shake of his head, as if to warn her off whatever story she was about to tell. Nisha’s eyes managed to smile even more than her lovely face in response. He studied his feet and sighed. Aniri couldn’t help smiling at the whole unspoken conversation bouncing between them.

  “Oh?” Aniri asked, encouraging Nisha and enjoying the grim look on the prince’s face. “And what effect do I have on Jungali’s future king?”

  “Well…” Nisha dropped her voice so the drifting noble from the Bajiran court wouldn’t overhear. “Those dreadful melancholy walks around the perimeter of the estate have stopped. And I hear he has given up reading poetry altogether.”

  “That’s a complete fabrication,” the prince objected.

  Aniri kept her voice conspiratorial as well. “In fairness, I did take one of his poetry tomes. I believe it was the one with the ancient Jungali love poems.”

  She had read it through twice in the time she had been sequestered in her room. It had a soulful beauty that was entirely unexpected, and she flushed with the memory of how wrong her preconceptions had been about the Jungali people. Her uncharitable thoughts were proven even more wrong by Nisha’s embrace, not to mention the prince himself and his noble acts.

  “Have you now?” Nisha’s almond-shaped eyes went round, and Aniri was sure she mistook the heat in her face for something else entirely. Then Nisha gave the prince a look that was both teasing and gleeful with this new information.

  “Tell me,” she said, returning her gaze to Aniri, “did he show you his favorites?”

  Nisha could give Priya serious competition in her fascination with all things romantic.

  “I think we’re quite done discussing poetry,” the prince cut in, taking Aniri by the elbow and steering her toward the head table. “And I believe the party awaits us.”

  Nisha grinned her goodbye and swept her skirts to take her place at the head table. It was slightly elevated from the others and arranged at one end of the hall. The prince and Aniri sat in the middle, side by side, with Nisha on his left and Janak already settled on her right. Priya bounced slightly, barely able to contain her joy at filling out the remaining head table seat, while to Nisha’s left was another woman who could easily be her sister, with the same stunning Jungali beauty.

  Once they were seated, the prince leaned over to whisper, “I’m sorry about Nisha.”

  “Sorry about what?” Aniri asked, grinning. “I thought she was quite charming. Although I am now extremely curious as to your favorite poems, Prince Malik.”

  He shook his head and returned his attention to the table and gathered guests. The head table was arranged with more platters of food than needed to feed all the people in attendance twice over, but there was a complete absence of forks or spoons and only the occasional knife for cutting meat. Aniri hoped she could negotiate it. The small dishes of some kind of sauce did not look promising. Perhaps she would forgo eating.

  The wide center of the ballroom was left clear, with tables lining the sides. Music swelled up from the alcoves behind the guest tables. It was lively and fresh, and the spirits of the room seemed to lift right out of the heavy chairs. Aniri had never heard Jungali music before, and maybe this was only reserved for cele
brations like royal engagements, but it was so full of life that she couldn’t help but tap her feet under the brocade blanketed table. Voices joined the strings and horns and made a sensual sound that made her almost embarrassed by the grin it brought to her face. Then she turned to Prince Malik, and he wore a grin so broad, she felt instantly at ease, as if nothing could make her uncomfortable when the earnestness he normally wore could be wiped away by this lively celebration.

  Then the dancers came out.

  They flooded the floor with whirling blue dresses, flowing the Jungali colors like an ocean coming in for tide. Bare arms and feet flashed and pounded the air and floor tiles, floating and beating with the tempo of the music. A dizzying flurry of voices seemed to come from every crevice of the room. The dancers moved with sinuous, rhythmic motions, synchronized with the singers so that each movement felt like a reverberation of the music now pumping through Aniri’s entire body. Then their voices rose with the music, the flicking of their hands serving as punctuation for words that slipped one past the other. The language was beautiful, but she couldn’t make sense of it.

  She leaned over to the prince and asked, “What are they saying?”

  He tucked his head to the side, so his lips were near her ear. “It’s an ancient Jungali tongue. They are saying the wind sings of our love, the flowers bursting with joy.”

  She smiled and pulled back, struck by the loveliness of it all. One of the dancers swept forward, carrying two tiny white blossoms, one in each hand. She wove a story in the air with them, then presented them to Aniri and Ash, arms outstretched across the head table, her head bent until her blue-black hair cascaded in front and obscured her face. Ash reached out to take his, so Aniri did the same. He turned to her, flower in hand, a sly smile on his face. While looking deep in her eyes, he gently cupped her hand with the flower and brought it to his face. Before she realized what he intended, he had snatched the delicate flower from her palm with his lips and drawn it into his mouth. Aniri gaped.