Page 36 of Her Soul for a Crown

Only in slumber did the line betwixt Anula’s brows disappear.

Light breaths shifted tendrils of her hair across her face as she slept deeply. Whoever she had sneaked off to meet with in the night market had left a mark of worry. Reeri wondered at the who as much as the why , for someone had been important enough to risk the wrath of the tether.

“Watching again?” the blessed gift whispered overhead. “That is not how you attain progeny.”

Reeri bristled. “Leave me alone.”

“Three nights you’ve watched her now.” The raja tutted.

The wind whistled through the chamber. Three nights, was that all it had been since the night market? Three nights of vigilance, of keeping nightmares at bay. It seemed appropriate, since they were so close. A last reprieve, for her.

Yet if she had noticed, she said nothing. Spending her days wandering the gardens, she only spoke when asking if Nuwan had sent word. Each time, the crease betwixt her brows deepened.

Reeri wondered if she saw the concern mirrored in him.

He had thought both relic and essence offerings would be in his possession before now, had believed he would perform the soul sacrifice and fracture Anula’s soul forever.

He had steeled himself to take the kindness and care, to leave her a husk.

These were the things required for the Yakkas’ souls to return, to once more have bodies. It left the bad, the ugly, the things rotten and poisonous behind.

Reeri snorted. It was a fine sentence for the Raejina of Poisons.

But not for a survivor, a protector of people, a soul that willingly bled for others.

Dread drew a finger down Reeri’s shadow. Would cleaving such a soul add to the blood on his hands?

No. She was willing. He had not asked; she had offered. What she became after would not be his fault…would it?

Anula trembled. Reeri sat up. Was she having a nightmare? Mayhap he should have slept, to share the memory, the burden, until—

“See how she shivers?” the blessed gift crooned. Reeri clenched his jaw. “She needs you, Raja. Touch her, hold her. Show her your warmth.”

“Do you not mean give her my warmth?” Reeri muttered, shifting. Mayhap he could close the gap, warm the bed. Would she notice his nearness? Would she lash out with those lips?

The gift chuckled. “By all means, give it to her well and good.”

It would be so simple, to slide across the bed, wrap her in his arms as she woke—warmth rising, her back might arch into his hardness, their hips rocking to the sounds of her song.

“Yes,” the voice cooed. “You want to. You want her . Go and give her your gift.”

Reeri lurched away, slipping from the bed, and tumbled to the floor.

“What’re you doing?” Anula asked, bleary-eyed over the edge.

“N-nothing,” he said.

“Well, do it more quietly.” She pulled up the covers and turned back to slumber.

The raja pointed at Reeri. “You may very well stay a virgin at this rate.”

***

Dark circles were like shallow graves beneath his eyes as he watched Anula pace the entrance of the Pleasure Gardens, marking four days since they had made the deal with Nuwan. His treasure must be kept far from the city, away from potential seekers and thieves.

“Three essence offerings down. Sohon received a journal containing someone’s secrets.” Calu’s voice gusted behind him. “He only had to write thirteen memory books in exchange. I think he may never look at a liver the same way again.”

Reeri continued his observation. If he blinked, would Anula disappear into the bushes as she had disappeared into the night market’s crowd?

“Reeri.” Calu’s voice broke through.

“Have you ever seen her with friends?”

“What?” Calu asked, leaving Kama and Sohon to peer out the terrace windows with him.

“She risked her skin to see someone the other night.” Reeri narrowed his eyes as Anula suddenly spun. Bithul handed over a letter. Mayhap that was what she had been waiting for.

“Worried she has a paramour?” Calu elbowed him.

Reeri glowered. “That is not what I meant.”

“I could find out.”

“No. I simply do not want her to disappear when we have the relic and offerings ready.”

“ Sure. That is the reason.”

“It is.”

“Your face says differently.”

“My face says nothing.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Calu clapped him on the shoulder with one hand and fingered his neckline with the other. The gnarled pendant was gone, but surely secured elsewhere alongside Sohon’s offering.

Disentangling himself, Reeri turned to the others. He need not prove his questions valid.

Sohon lounged on the throne, flipping through the journal as another thick book sat by his side. Kama sprawled on the floor, tripping her fingers over the pages. “If I were to set fire to a memory book, would their souls feel it?”

Sohon snatched it up. If he did not deliver it intact, the offering would disappear, for a bargain broken takes from both sides. “You are insane.”

“I am passion,” she corrected. “Fascination feeds me.”

The doors to the throne room banged closed. Reeri glanced up as Anula marched in, a light in her eyes. It riled his shadow.

She held a letter aloft. “Nuwan has summoned us.”

Had she doubled back to Nuwan that night? Was she troubled by what he had said or done? If so, why would she not tell him? They were in this together.

“He wants ‘the consort and her ladies’ to deliver the painting.” Anula smirked at Kama, the only lady of court ever seen attending her. “Though Bithul is allowed to carry it.”

“Absolutely not,” Reeri said, terse and swift.

Anula raised a brow. “Are you worried I can’t defend myself if he means harm?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Calu said simultaneously. Reeri bristled.

“Has the poison eroded your memory?” She pointed to her necklace. “Bithul will grab the painting, and Kama and I will be on our way. You can finish your ‘business’ before the day is done. So don’t get comfortable on my throne, Sohon.”

“We cannot.” Kama stood.

Anula narrowed her eyes. “Cannot what?”

“Kama,” Reeri warned.

The Yakka of Love tsk-tsked. “She should know.”

“Know what?”

“The relic is merely the first step. There are more.”

“How many?”

Kama skipped to her side. “One that is two. I must find my true essence first.” She tripped her fingers up Anula’s arm and across her chest. “Will you help me? You know the workings of a heart.”

Anula lifted her gaze. Wounded and angry. Whatever ground Reeri had gained with her stopped short, the earth falling away in a landslide.

“Anula.” He stepped forward, the words on the end of his tongue. He could tell her, explain it all. Would she open to him then? Bring him a book to remember?

No. It risked too much. If she rescinded—

“It’s fine,” she snapped, grabbing Kama’s hand from her chest and pulling her to the door. “If there’s more to do, then we can’t waste time.”

She blazed out of the chamber, Bithul quick on her heels, the painting jostling in his hand, cane in the other.

Calu whistled low. “Glad I will not be here to see her ire after her soul is cleaved. Mayhap she should not have the throne; she may be worse than any usurper.”

The thought nipped at Reeri. “That was the bargain. It cannot be broken.”

She had chosen this, he reminded himself as the tether stretched. He had chosen this, too. For his brethren.

There was so much blood on his hands.

He only required one drop more, given freely.

He would rend her soul into pieces, yet leave her with a crown. She would understand. They were not dissimilar. There was no cost too high for their people.

Why, then, did it not feel right?