Page 17 of Damned and Broken Gods (Labyrinth of Gods #2)

A God Who Likes To Cook

LEELA

A raz and I woke to the smell of pancakes and bacon. I dressed quickly in loose gray pants and a cream tunic then hurried down the stairs to find a man at the stove, spatula in hand, cooking bacon rashers.

It took a moment to recognize him as Guru Chandra.

I’d never seen him dressed casually before—loose, collarless shirt, which I’d come to know was called a kurta, black slacks, and leather sandals—and it made him seem less untouchable and more approachable.

His hair was pulled back, slightly damp, as if he’d not long ago gotten out of the shower.

And…then come straight here to cook for me?

O-kay… “Hi…” I ventured forward. “Um…need a hand?”

“No. Sit. I hope you’re hungry.” He didn’t look away from his task, plucking bacon from the pan and carefully laying it on a plate.

“I can do that,” Araz said, hurrying toward the stove.

Guru Chandra waved him off. “Sit, sit. It’s not often I get the pleasure of cooking. Let me indulge.”

Araz arched a brow my way, and I shrugged. We took seats at the oval wooden table, waiting as the Asura regent placed offerings of fruit, oatmeal, bacon, and pancakes on the table. He brought over a pot of tea and a tray of cups, then took the seat opposite us and poured himself some.

“The food won’t eat itself,” he said over the rim of his cup.

I grabbed a plate and loaded up before passing it to Araz.

Araz froze, staring at the plate as if it was an unspoken insult.

“What?” I studied the food. “Did I put on something you don’t like?”

“No,” Guru Chandra said, his lips twitching as if holding back a smile. “But you did insult him. A drohi feeds his demigod, not the other way around.”

Araz pushed the plate toward me. “Please…” His tone was tight.

Irritation licked at my chest. “It’s just food, why does it matter?”

Guru Chandra sighed. “You’re right, of course. It shouldn’t. But it does. This is the way of things.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Araz gripped my thigh under the table, squeezing in warning.

I swallowed my ire, clamped my mouth shut, and nodded.

Araz poured me some tea, adding milk and two sugars just how I liked it, while I burned with the injustice of this arrangement.

“Did Erabi explain the agenda for today?” Guru Chandra asked, setting his cup down.

“Yeah, she did, but what I don’t understand is, why?”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Yes, why am I here a day early? And why do I have to attend this banquet?”

“You’re a smart woman. You tell me .”

I hated when people threw my own questions back at me, but on this occasion, I did have an inkling as to the answer. “Is this your attempt to introduce me to influential people? To maybe…make them like me?”

He smiled, satisfied. “Very good, Leela. The Authority isn’t immune to the influence of the raees. If enough of the noble Asura find you agreeable, then they will assert as such. Enough pressure and the Authority will have little choice but to give the Asura what they want.”

“The Authority doesn’t want to grant Leela immediate ascension, do they?” Araz asked, his voice low.

Guru Chandra pressed his lips together. “I’m not sure we have the support we need. Yet. Leela is a demigod, not a born god; therefore, she is influenced by mortal ways. She has mortal ideas. Some do not believe she would make a worthy queen.”

Araz and I had considered this possibility. “But can they do that? Stop me from claiming a birthright?”

Guru Chandra grinned. “Birthright. That’s the keyword.

That’s my argument. The rules are clear.

Royal blood must take the throne, and the throne must lead.

That is what we will anchor our argument on.

The Authority cannot keep your birthright from you, but they can delay it. They can force you to work for it.”

By making me take the labyrinth… “So you want me to charm a few raees?”

“Yes, essentially. Show them you understand this world and the etiquette, that you respect the order and want only to help enforce it. Make them believe they can control you.” He looked to Araz. “As Leela’s drohi, you will stay close by her side.”

“Do you believe her life may be in danger?” Araz asked.

“I can’t rule it out. Leela, your existence has shaken the very fabric of our world.”

“But you believe in me? You think I can be a queen.”

He pushed back his chair and stood. “I think it’s time for change.

” He clipped toward the door. “Erabi will be along shortly with appropriate attire for the events, and Leela, when you see me later, you may address me as Chandra.” The corner of his mouth lifted.

“A subtle indication of your status and our royal blood bond.” He swept out of the building, leaving silence in his wake.

I twisted in my seat to face Araz. “You think all Asura are scum, but Guru Chandra wants change. I’d have an ally in him.”

Araz picked up the teapot and poured himself a cup. “Eat. Erabi will be here soon.”

He clearly didn’t want to talk about the future and pushing him would do no good. That much I was sure of.

It was past midday, lunch had been eaten, and I was beginning to get antsy. Chandra hadn’t said we couldn’t leave the guest house, but then he hadn’t said we should, either, and knowing that I was here as some kind of test made me wary of stepping out too soon in case I fucked it up.

By the time Erabi arrived in a whirlwind of gossamer wings, dragging a large trunk on wheels, I was ready to climb the walls.

“Happy high sun,” she trilled, gliding into the sitting room and dropping the trunk. “Did you have a good morning?”

“It was…uneventful.” I joined her in the main space, eyeing up the trunk. “What’s inside?”

“Oooh, you are going to love this.” She unlatched the case and lifted the lid to reveal reams and reams of colorful fabrics. “Dresses!”

“Um…Okay…”

She frowned. “You don’t like dresses?”

“I do, but…Wait, are those for me?”

“Of course they are. Why would I drag them all the way—” She waved a hand, cutting herself off. “Never mind. Look at all the pretty things.”

Of course the dresses were for me. A banquet required the proper attire. It had been a while since I’d dressed up for anything, and Erabi’s enthusiasm was infectious. Teeny bubbles of excitement simmered in my belly. It must have shown on my face because Erabi beamed up at me.

“That’s more like it.” She started scooping clothes out of the trunk and laying them on the sofas and chaises.

The outfits weren’t dresses; these were flowy, heavy, beaded, and sequined skirts with fitted tunic tops, corsets, or belly revealing sequined crop tops.

Each came with silken shawls or spider silk scarves.

I’d never worn anything like these, but I’d seen others in the Indian community wear similar outfits to functions and events. Back home, we called these lehengas.

I reached for the nearest one, running my fingers over the fabric to trace the intricate embroidery and beadwork.

“Gold would look good with your coloring,” Erabi said. “Or something darker, like this midnight blue? Yes, gold is a royal color, and we don’t want anyone to think you’re being presumptuous.”

“How can she be presumptuous when she is royal?” Araz pointed out.

Erabi shot him a glare. “Well, of course she’s royal, but we need to show that she isn’t greedy about it.”

That was quite insightful for someone who’d seemed clueless yesterday.

She shrugged and looked away. “That’s what Chandra says.

I just follow orders. And don’t worry, Araz, I haven’t forgotten you.

We have something perfect for you here.” She shifted through the trunk and pulled out a midnight blue tunic embroidered with silver thread at the cuff and collar, the material shimmering as if sewn with starlight.

“The pants are plain, so it won’t look overly extravagant, just enough to fit in.

” She tugged out a pair of flat shoes, silver and embroidered, the toe pointed and curling upward a little. Mojari shoes.

Araz’s jaw flexed as he studied the outfit, a far cry from anything he owned, and probably from anything he’d ever been permitted to wear. My stomach knotted. Because once again, he’d be forced to perform, to be paraded. To be someone he wasn’t.

I hated this for him.

“Does he have to wear these clothes?”

“Do you want him to come with you to the banquet?” she shot back.

“I’ll wear them,” Araz said. “I will be by your side.”

“Good, that’s settled, then.” Erabi hooked an arm through mine and led me toward the array of lehengas. “I think the midnight blue for you too…don’t you?”

He and I would be matching, then…I liked the idea of that. I shrugged. “Whatever you think.”

“Good, then we have a plan for clothes. Now let’s prepare for the banquet itself.

” She went back to the trunk and pulled out a bulging folder.

“In here is the guest list of every Asura who’ll be attending the banquet tonight.

Names, likes and dislikes, information to help you build bridges.

” She fluttered to the table and sat down. “Are you ready to learn?”

“Do I have a choice?”

She smiled sweetly. “No.”

“In that case, we’d best get started.”

My head swam with the names and descriptions of Asura and their alliances. From what I’d gathered, the hierarchy here was the equivalent of the hierarchy of monarch, dukes, lords, and noblemen from my world. Right now, the Authority was acting as monarch with Chandra as a figurehead.

Below them were the houses, but each house had a duke, or what they called a nawab, and a lord or thakur , chosen to work under them.

The rest of the born Asura were called raees—nobles.

The made Asura had to earn this station or be gifted it.

There weren’t many of those, and the ones who were elevated were all seedborn—made gods who’d been claimed by their sires.

According to Erabi, the three Asura I needed most to impress were Asura Jogyan, Nawab of the Paani Ghar, Asura Bheema, Nawab of Dharti Ghar, and Asura Rajni. Yeah… that Asura Rajni—Droona and Yudh’s sire. He just happened to be the nawab of Pavan Ghar.

All three were on the Authority, but I couldn’t impress them directly; no, I had to do it through the lords—the thakur who worked beneath them, Thakur David, Thakur Gillian, and Thakur Dhani. Earth, water, and air respectively.

It was a lot to remember, but Araz assured me that he had it all noted in his beautiful brain.

And now it was time to dress. To wrap myself in midnight, smile, bow, and smile some more. Sweet words, sweet laughter, and no guile. They needed to believe that I was malleable, that they could mold me into any shape they desired.

Tonight, I’d have to hide my fire and be an ember.

“Oh, Leela, you’re glowing…” Erabi stood behind me in the mirror, hands clasped beneath her chin, eyes misty as she took me in.

I was weighted down by luxurious fabrics, face stiff from powder, eyes lined with kohl, head heavy with the intricate hairstyle that added waves and curls to my thick hair. I looked…magnificent.

Not like me.

But like the person I could be.

“I’ll go fetch your shoes!” Erabi hurried from the bedroom.

I adjusted a curl, gaze tracking to movement behind me.

Araz filled the doorway, midnight fabric lovingly hugging his powerful shoulders.

His dark hair, streaked with gold, had been brushed to a shine and half pulled up, the rest spilling over his shoulders.

I ached to touch it, to run my fingers through it, to bury my nose in the tresses and inhale him.

His fiery gaze met mine in the mirror, darkening, mouth parting. My stomach flipped. Hard.

I swallowed past the thickness in my throat. “Hey…” The word came out as a whisper. An invitation.

Araz moved to stand behind me, and I swayed, leaning back into his heat, my gaze still locked with his in the mirror.

He leaned in, his lips brushing the sensitive shell of my ear, his gaze still snaring me. His lips grazed my skin, the briefest of contact, but it sent lava flooding through my veins. Heat rose to hug my neck, and my eyes fluttered closed.

“If anyone touches you tonight,” he said, his voice a delicious rumble, “I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

His heat retreated as breath exploded from my lungs. My eyes snapped open in time to see him slip from the room.

Damn him, pushing the boundaries.

“Here we go.” Erabi returned with silver sandals in her hand. “Oh dear, you look flushed. Is it too warm in here?”

She had no idea. “I’m fine. Let’s just get on with this.”

It was showtime.