Third Daughter (The Dharian Affairs, Book One) Read online

  “Oh.” Aniri’s annoyance evaporated, taking what little strength she had with it. “Well, I think they’ve nearly finished with the gas, although perhaps less so now that I’ve let some of it loose. And now there’s a giant mechanical butterfly on top, with shiny brass wings and a crystal at the center. I don’t know its purpose.”

  The prince frowned. “I doubt it is peaceful.”

  “I know,” Aniri said. “The skyship alone is a threat to Dharia. With the skyship sailing high above the reach of any Dharian weapons, conventional bombs could be dropped with impunity. But with this butterfly… I don’t know what it’s capable of, but I am certain the only way to keep it from being a weapon of war is to have it safely in your hands, Ash. For that, you need the crown. And to gain the crown, you need me to marry you. The only alternative is for Dharia to immediately go to war with Jungali, and even then, even knowing the capabilities of the weapon, even if we could strike before the skyship is ready to launch, I cannot be sure we would win. The airharbor is so remote… the mountains are virtually impregnable… the losses on both sides would be extreme. I can forestall all of that by forging a bond between our people. By becoming your Queen. I understand that now. It’s what’s best for both our nations.”

  The prince’s face brightened while she spoke. “Then why—”

  “Because the skyship is real. And that means Devesh lied to me. He’s been lying all along.”

  The prince’s face fell again. “Your lover.”

  Aniri nodded, her gaze falling back to her hands. Her fingers lightly turned the thin, braided bracelet her father had given her. “Devesh promised to help me find my father’s murderers. He promised we would marry and run away, leave the court behind and seek the things that mattered to my heart.” She glanced at her father’s saber. “I was going to have my vengeance on the vermin who killed my father. I would have found them and killed them with his own sword.”

  The prince held very still.

  “Devesh promised to help me,” she said, her chest sinking in on itself. “It was all a lie.”

  The prince hesitated, and when he spoke, it was very softly. “I don’t understand—how could he have actually known one way or the other about the skyship? Maybe he was just mistaken.”

  “He knows because he’s a Samirian diplomat!” Aniri said, her voice rising. “And apparently a spy. And your airharbor is crawling with Samirians—guards, workers, even the tinkers seem to be Samirian!”

  “It’s true the alliance with Samir is what’s allowed the skyship to go forward,” the prince said with a grimace. “Their tinkers and technology combined with our access to the navia gas mined out of the far northern mountains is what makes it possible.”

  “There’s no way Devesh didn’t know all of that.” Aniri’s shoulders slumped again. “He wanted me to leave, Ash. He said Samir was using the rumors of the skyship to distract Dharia, all while they were preparing to invade.” She gave him a grim smile. “All this time, I thought he was in love with me. I thought he was simply looking out for me, afraid for my life, worried about me. But it turns out he understood the politics much better than I did. He always did. He knew marrying you would stop whatever plans the Samirian’s had for the skyship once it was complete. I just thought… I thought he was…” She took a deep breath. “I was a fool.”

  This time her chest caved completely, and her head hung down with the weight of it. Sweet, naïve Aniri. She could hear Devesh’s voice softly mocking her. It ripped her heart, carving a wound so deep it felt like it split her in two.

  The prince was silent. She hoped he would leave her to the wounds in her heart and burning quietly on her hands. She wanted to curl up under the covers and wait for them to scab over. Then she would be ready to carry forward with the duty she knew she needed to perform. Instead, the tip of the prince’s finger brushed the underside of her chin. She pulled away, then thought better of it. He was only trying to help. She looked back to his clear amber eyes.

  “Perhaps,” Prince Malik said, “it’s not as you think. Maybe your lover was speaking from his heart and not his head. It wouldn’t be the first time a man lied to a woman in order to keep her.”

  Aniri peered at him. “You think he knew the truth but lied about the skyship out of love?” She couldn’t quite piece it together.

  He gave a small shrug that seemed to pain him. “It’s something I would do.” He coughed. “I mean, if I was a Samirian diplomat in love with the Third Daughter of Dharia.” He dropped his voice. “There are worse things he could do, Aniri, if he simply wanted to hurt you.”

  It never crossed her mind that Devesh would intentionally want to hurt her. Lie to her in service of his country, yes. Use her for access to her mother’s court, definitely. But hurt her just out of spite? That wasn’t the Devesh she knew. And if he knew the truth about the skyship, maybe he had lied because he truly wanted her to run away with him to Samir—even if it allowed a war to go forward. Maybe he loved her more than either of their countries.

  That sounded more like the Devesh she had fallen in love with.

  Aniri gave a shaky nod, sitting taller under the blankets. “I’ll come back to Bajir with you, Ash. And it’s imperative we go through with the marriage, as soon as possible, so you can take the throne and claim control over the skyship. And we must warn my mother as well. But when we return to Bajir—”

  “I know,” the prince said, wincing again. “You need to pay your lover a visit.”

  She gave him a grim smile, but hope bloomed in her heart. Even if duty required her to marry Prince Malik, he wouldn’t make her give up Devesh. She knew enough about Ashoka, the young prince of Jungali, to know that was true. With Prince Malik crowned King, he could protect her—protect both of them—from the Samirians who would lay claim to Devesh. Jungali was already allied with the Samir; they had an embassy here. How hard would it be for Devesh to be stationed there if it was a request straight from the King and Queen of Jungali?

  All her plans to search for her father would have to be put on hold. Her dreams of a free life with Devesh would be gone; they could be lovers in secret only. The thought tore at her, but it was far better than nothing. And someday, when there was a lasting peace in her country, she would set out to find the truth about her father. Perhaps she would even be able to bring Dev with her, under the guise of a faithful companion and guide in his home country of Samir.

  Maybe there was a way out of this with her heart in one piece after all.

  Aniri hovered outside the door to her room at the prince’s estate in Bajir.

  It was late and the palace was dark. The prince had insisted on accompanying her all the way to her door. Their cover story about sneaking off for a lover’s courtship retreat must have been believable, given the guards weren’t surprised by their late-night return. Or the prince’s arm draped protectively over her shoulder. She and the prince had abandoned their cloaks and simply wore their adventuring clothes now that they had returned to the warmer southern province. The household rumors must be afire with their secretive comings and goings.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” the prince asked for the tenth time since they had left Sik province.

  “I will be… until Janak realizes I’ve returned.” Slipping away had been a frontal assault on Janak’s duty to keep her safe. It wouldn’t help when she told him he was right about Devesh being a spy.

  “And you’re still planning on visiting your lover?” the prince asked with a frown.

  “Yes.” She wasn’t sure what the outcome would be, but she had to know if Devesh ever really cared for her. “I’ll go this eve to the Samirian embassy. I’ll wait until it’s dark, with less eyes to see and mouths to chatter. If he’s still in Jungali, that’s where he’ll be.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” the prince asked softly, ducking his head.

  “I can handle my lover, Prince Malik.”

  He smirked, eyes still averted, and made a short nod. “Of that I
have no doubt.” Then seriousness returned to his face. “Just be sure to take an escort.” His gaze lingered on her face for a moment, and Aniri thought he might say something else. Instead, he turned and strode away, his boots making hard sounds on the tiled floor.

  Aniri took a deep breath and opened the door to her room. She expected Janak to be angry, but she wasn’t prepared for Priya’s disheveled state, curled upon the sofa, head in her hands apparently crying.

  “Queen’s breath!” Priya yelped and leaped off the couch. “You’re alive!” She flew across the span of their apartment and nearly tackled Aniri with a hug. Priya recovered her senses quickly, though, alternately brushing at her tear-streaked face and reaching out to smooth Aniri’s travel-worn clothes as if a stray wrinkle caused by her hug might be the worst of what could be found there. It took a moment for Janak to stalk across the room, the anger a dark cloud gathering on his face. Aniri took that time to set down her valise, the one heavy with her aetheroceiver, making note she needed to message her mother soon. She unbuckled her saber and was setting it with the luggage just as Janak arrived at their side. That was when Priya noticed the bandages around Aniri’s hands.

  “My lady! What has happened to you?” she cried, gently cupping one of Aniri’s hands in her two and staring at it in horror.

  “It’s only a small burn,” Aniri said. “It’s healing already. The prince had a salve—”

  “The prince?” Janak’s face was downright murderous, and Aniri was sure it was directed at her. “So he actually did steal you away, without a guard, without a note. Gods, Aniri!” He balled up a fist, flexed it, then ran it through his hair, turning away from her in frustration. He paced only two steps before turning back. “How foolish can you be? What if he discovered you? What if he found out your mission? How can you run off on… on…” His face turned red as he chewed on the words before spitting them out. “…some childish trip across the countryside without so much as a guard to keep you safe?”

  “The prince knows about my mission, Janak.”

  “What?” he cried. “He knows? And then you ran off with him, alone? It’s a wonder you only burnt your hand, with the way you play with fire, Aniri! How stupid and arrogant can you be? You’re a child dressed in royal clothes.” He threw his hands out in frustration and turned his back on her, as if he could barely stand to look upon her.

  “You are not my father, Janak,” she said through gritted teeth. “You are—”

  “No!” he cut her off, swinging back to her and striding up to stare down at her. “I am not your father.” Then he straightened his jacket and regained the military bearing he carried like a weapon. “Your father was a coward.”

  Rage clouded her vision and before she thought about what she was doing, Aniri slapped him. A surge of pain ripped through her palm, but that wasn’t what caused tears to jump to her eyes. “How dare you…” Her words strangled on her anger.

  He slowly turned back from her slap. “It is the truth. Your father was an embarrassment. He was never good enough for her. Never.” His fists clenched and unclenched at his side. “I tried to warn her. I implored her to… to pick someone else… someone who would give his life for her…” He faltered, then looked away, jaw working. “She was too swept away. She wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t see him for what he really was.”

  The pain in his voice sliced through Aniri’s anger and opened her mind. She could suddenly see it in the tension coiled in his body, in the passion always in his eyes, veiled, kept at a proper distance… because it was impossible for the Queen’s guard to be her lover. Impossible for a raksaka to marry a royal. But Janak loved her, and not simply because he had sworn to honor and defend her. Not simply because she was the Queen.

  Then a terrible thought seeped into Aniri’s mind.

  “You… you let him die.” It was such a shock, her mind almost couldn’t grasp it. Her anger was frozen in horror. “My father is dead because of you.”

  “Dead because of me?” His face contorted into a new level of disbelief and anger.

  “You were his bodyguard! You are raksaka! You were supposed to keep him safe!” Aniri vented her rage in angry stabs of her finger at his face. “What? Were you drunk at the time? Sleeping? Are you such a pathetic raksaka that common thieves can sneak under your nose without your notice? Or did you let them in? Did you simply want him dead so you could win the Queen’s favor for yourself?”

  The horror of it unlocked her frozen body, and she moved to strike him again. He caught her hand by the wrist in a lightning move that immobilized her but caused no pain. Except the one in her heart.

  Janak’s voice dropped low and dangerous. “I did not fail in my duty.” Anger was a hot ember in his eyes. “Your father is not dead.”

  Aniri blinked. Time seemed to stop. Breath halted in her chest. “What?” she whispered, then stronger, “What did you say?”

  The murderous look returned to Janak’s face, but he released her hand and eased back from her. “Your father did not die in that gods-forsaken Samirian province, your most royal highness. He left. He was a coward who couldn’t face his royal responsibilities, so he simply walked away from them.”

  “But… you said… my mother said…” Aniri’s heart shattered into pieces, shredding the words before they could form in her mind.

  “Your mother let it appear he had been taken by robbers. She let it appear he had died because that was what was best for Dharia. Your mother is a true sovereign, one who has always known how to put her country first. Unlike her husband. Or her third daughter.”

  Aniri gasped as the weight of Janak’s truth sank into her.

  Priya made a small squeak next to her, but beyond that, the room was deathly quiet. Priya placed a hand on Aniri’s arm, but Aniri pushed her away, taking a step back. The pieces, the fragments of recollection that had never made sense before, all fell into place.

  “My mother never went looking for him, never chased after the robbers…” Aniri’s voice faded off. Because her father wasn’t dead at all. He had left his wife, the Queen, and the court, and everything that came with it. He had run away.

  The very thing she had dreamed so many nights of doing.

  “He left a note, warning us not to look for him,” Janak said stiffly. “I searched anyway, because there is no force in this world which could make me let that coward bring embarrassment to our Queen.”

  Tears chased each other down Aniri’s cheeks, but she had no doubt whatsoever Janak was telling the truth. She could see him, frantically searching the Samirian streets for the runaway king before he could embarrass the Queen who Janak loved.

  “You couldn’t find my father,” Aniri whispered. “Because he didn’t want to be found.” Her father had left his Queen. He had left his three daughters. He had left her. He had allowed her to believe he was dead, all because he wanted to run away.

  Aniri sucked in a breath. The shards of her heart crashed to the ground.

  Devesh would have searched all of Samir with her until they found her father’s killers, would have helped her to unlock the secrets of her past, but Janak had thrown the vault wide open, and it was empty.

  Her father had left her.

  “I…” Aniri faltered, the images of Janak and Priya swimming in front of her. “I am going to… take a walk.” She backed toward the door she had just come through, nearly tripping before slowly pivoting around to walk forward.

  “Yes, run away,” Janak said softly. “Who are we to stop you?”

  His words would have sliced pain through her—if she had been capable of feeling anything at all.

  “My lady, wait!” Priya said, her silk dress whispering behind Aniri. “I’ll accompany you.”

  “No!” Aniri flung out her arm to stop her handmaiden without looking back. Devesh knew her heart better than anyone; he would understand. He would hold her while she put the pieces of it back together again. Aniri turned her head to the side and softened her voice. “No, Priya, stay here. I need
to be alone for a while.”

  Aniri forced her feet to move, her boots scuffing heel marks on the tiled floor. Pain laced through her palm as she gripped the doorknob and wrenched it open, but she welcomed it.

  Anything to distract from the cavern of agony in her chest.

  Aniri wandered the hallways of the palace in a daze, her steps pulsing in her hands, keeping time with the beat of her heart. It pounded in her head as well, making her thoughts fuzzy.

  All this time, she had thought her mother had abandoned her father’s body, but in truth, her father had left her mother. Everything Aniri knew about the world had somehow gone false. She could hardly trust the steps in front of her to remain solid as her boots silently stepped down them.

  She was outside, with no recollection of how she got there.

  But she knew where she wanted to go: the Samirian embassy.

  The granite outer walls of the Bajiran capital towered above the colorful tumble of houses, marketplaces, and stables that filled it. During the day, the walls were white, but in the twilight, they flickered with gaslamp, the warm amber dancing along the polished rock. Even now, past the dinner hour, people filled the streets. Some spilled out of taverns, clearly gone with drink. Some tucked into darkened crevices, lovers who thought they couldn’t be seen, only the flash of bronze-trimmed buttons gave them away. Everywhere, the city thrummed with heartbeats.

  Even at night, Jungali made her dizzy with too much brightness, too much life.

  Merchants were still closing up their shops. Aniri pulled her hood forward, shadowing her face. She approached a clockwork tinker, her wares silent except for one tiny automaton lumbering across the table she had set up outside. The shop was a cubby in the lowest level of a three-story stacked apartment, which was crammed between four-story structures on either side. Each ramshackle dwelling seemed to hold the other up, as well as the next one and the next. Aniri pictured one small timber out of place, one decrepit wall falling, and the entire city would crumble after it.