Page 18 of Her Soul for a Crown

That wasn’t any better. Innocent lives were still lost for a senseless, greedy purpose. Sons and husbands never to return home, never to hug their loved ones again. She stared at a helmet, bloody and bent. A woman’s sari pota lay drenched next to it.

It pinched at Anula.

She had lost not only Auntie Nirma, but also the women who’d been placed here to aid her rule.

What about the others, the ones still in Kekirawa?

Her fingers twitched. She should write to them, ensure they were safe and hiding in case Chora Naga had spilled any of their secrets.

Then she should ask for aid, for them to send more allies—

But would that risk them? If the letter was intercepted, if any of Chora Naga’s own allies now infiltrated the palace, she could be the cause of more loss.

Perhaps it was best to wait for a missive from one of them.

They knew she was here, and they’d see that she had not given up.

Decision made, she turned from the helmet and the loss and continued on.

Bithul was right behind her until she rounded the last of the corners.

“If you wanted for food, I would have summoned a servant to your chambers,” he said.

“But that’s not what I wanted.” She took the corner, half hoping to find two maids kissing.

The hall was empty. A few hours ago, the palace had been under attack, ransacked in parts, no doubt. Blessed gifts could earn two lifetimes’ fortunes. Anyone standing in the way would be seen as a mere hindrance, especially the maids.

“Premala?” she called, entering the kitchen. Perhaps she had already returned to the concubine estate. The clink of dropped dishes echoed, taking with them the tension from Anula’s shoulders. “Good, you’re just as I left you.”

The young woman scrambled across the floor and Anula marveled at how someone so bad at their job, worse at lying, and missing from any of Anula’s lists, had managed to make her worry. Suspicion , she told herself and let it drop there.

“Oh!” the cook gasped, falling into a bow. “Raejina Consort, twice in one day, how…thoughtful of you.”

Aside from the plates on the floor next to Premala, the kitchen seemed untouched. Even the food prepared for the celebration sat pristinely on the tables.

“I wanted to make sure everyone was all right,” Anula said.

Premala jerked up at the words.

“Thank you, my raejina consort.” The cook blushed. She hissed at two maids and Premala, fluttering her hands toward the food. “You must be starving after—here, let me get you something to eat. It was meant for your enjoyment, after all.”

Anula let her hand land across her heart. “After how cruel I was to you?”

The cook shook her head. “You were right, my raejina consort. A soft word does more to move a cow. Please, enjoy.”

Anula blinked. That was not entirely the point she had tried to make. As she sat, Premala poured tea, sure to steady the kettle and avoid another mishap.

“Thank you for checking on us,” she murmured.

“What are friends for?”

Premala swallowed hard. Out of fear, or nerves?

Anula took a sip, then grabbed another cup. “Bithul, come sit and eat. I’m sure your day has been as relaxing as mine.”

“I cannot, my raejina consort,” he said, eyeing the maids and every window and door. His hand twisted on the top of his cane.

“And if I command you?”

Bithul sighed, took the cup she offered, and emptied it in one long swallow. “My gratitude, my raejina consort. I am fortified.”

“Do you believe in the Heavens? You said before that you were destined to be commander. Was that talk, or do you truly believe the Heavens gave you a purpose?”

“That is a complicated answer, my raejina consort.” He sat next to her. “But yes, I believe the Heavens guide my path.”

He sounded like Auntie Nirma. Anula sipped her tea, the heat a barrier against her heart. “So you believe you’ll be commander one day?”

Bithul smiled, the tea softening him. “They never said I would be. Only men did. I choose to believe that my life is unfolding as it should, as long as I remain true to myself. It’s how I am able to accept this.

” He raised his cane, an iron piece that looked more like a scabbard than a walking stick.

“It’s how I can serve the crown and not a man.

Whoever the Divinities choose to place me under, it’s not for me to decide or to question. ”

Anula clenched a fist. “They never make a mistake?”

“Never,” he said solemnly, eyes heavy.

“Your faith is valiant.”

“Thank you, Raejina Consort.”

It wasn’t meant to be a compliment.

Bithul’s head nodded drowsily, until it dropped heavily and rested on the table. A soft snore sounded. The tincture had worked quickly. Anula stood, ready to go to work before anything else could happen on this cursed day.

“Raejina Consort,” Premala whispered, eyeing the sleeping guard. “Be careful. The palace is full of secrets and dark powers.”

Anula knew that, but how did Premala? “Powers?”

Premala glanced around. Maids flitted this way and that, too many ears listening. “Just be careful.”

It was all the confirmation Anula needed to know that Premala was part of a grander scheme, one she’d have to uncover in time. First, she would rid the palace of another dark power.

“Don’t worry, I can protect myself.” Anula slipped out of the kitchen, a prayer chanting in her head.

It began with the name of Prophet Ayaan.