Page 53 of Her Soul for a Crown

Chests pressed together, he saw her thoughts, her question, her desire.

His hands seized her waist, breath quickening, as her daydream took over them.

A bed of silks, a swirl of candle smoke, the scent of cinnamon, as Anula leaned him back, running one finger down his chest and stomach, dipping beneath his sarong and catching his hardness as it rose to greet her.

She moaned, followed her fingers with her lips.

Kissing nipple and navel. Both hands stroking.

Now Reeri groaned in response to the vision, pushing her up against the wall and bringing his lips to her ear. His breath sent a shudder down her spine, and she arched slightly.

“If I were merely a woman…” she whispered.

He squeezed her waist and inhaled her scent, lingering at her neck. But then he growled and pried himself off. “We cannot.”

With stiff legs, he pivoted out of the room and into the shrine next door. Anula let out a huff, pressing her palms into her eyes. Thrice-cursed blessings. She wasn’t sure she’d make it to the Maha Equinox.

Swallowing her thoughts—and all else that came with them—she pushed off the wall and followed him. Reeri sighed as she entered. Not at her, but at a painting, the largest in the room by half. The floor was littered with gifts, both dusty and pristine, the new stacked high.

“We must go inside.” Reeri finally broke the silence. “I had come to tell you, before…”

Anula flushed and cleared her throat. “Why do you think that?”

“Mayhap the relic is hidden within.”

“If it is, then there are too many gifts to check in time.” She stepped closer.

Reeri tensed, the strain pulsing between them like a heartbeat. “We must start somewhere.”

“I didn’t mean that we should give up.” They stood in front of a rendering of a Festival of the Cosmos.

It was less realistic than the others, the brushstrokes crisscrossing and the colors blending.

“I don’t think this place exists in Anuradhapura.

I’ve never seen the sun hanging in the east while the stars shine in the west.”

“Art imitates life in a myriad of ways. Remember that the gifts are points within the cosmos, not on Earth. If the Divinities gifted this rendering, with fantastical images, they did it for a purpose.”

“Which was what?”

“I suppose we will see.”

Reeri took a breath and held open a hand. Unafraid of seeing her wildest desires. Or perhaps just as curious as she was.

Anula grabbed it quickly. He wrapped his fingers tightly around hers, sending a thrill down her spine. And together, they pressed into the canvas until it devoured them whole.

But instead of facing more dreams, they emerged in a field of color and song. A musician blew a long note through the hak gediya, puffing out his chest and throwing back his head. The Festival of the Cosmos had begun.

Fire dancers spun to the beat of the processional raban drum.

Chimes rang loudly through the courtyard, pulling the crowd’s attention, as elephants and dancers swathed in bright fabrics and gilt jewels led the parade across the city.

Vendors lined the open gates, steam rising in scented tendrils beckoning all to eat, to drink, to celebrate.

Laborers stood next to artisans, ministers next to servants, all shining as best they could, all carrying their greatest offerings.

On one side, a golden hue lit upon their heads.

On the other, starlight danced in their eyes.

Heat sizzled along Anula’s arms. It was unseasonably warm.

Amma had used to say it was a warning, that the strongest monsoons fell after the hottest of days.

She glanced up to see puffy white clouds, holding not rain but the rulers of the Heavens.

On one side, Lord Wessamony, and the other, the host of Divinities.

They gazed lovingly, reaching down to bestow blessings and favors, wishes and dreams.

“I’ve never seen a Festival of the Cosmos this…

joyful,” Anula said. She had partaken in her fair share, coming first each year with Thaththa and Amma, then with Auntie Nirma.

The later years had been shrouded in the shadows of the alleys, drinking palm wine alone, drowning the unwanted memories until her auntie had her fill of begging and bartering.

She wondered what it would be like for her now, with far more knowledge yet still so far from faith.

“It is not a festival,” Reeri whispered. “It is a depiction of the balance of the cosmos. Night and day sharing one sky. Life and death entwined in remembrance.”

“Death?”

Reeri nodded to the front of the parade. Instead of ending at the gates, it continued on to a hill and a grave, bodies prostrate amid a bed of flowers. The petals drifted on the wind. They caught in circles atop each person’s head. A crown for every member of the kingdom.

“True balance is an unending connection. A circle with no beginning and no end. All exists together, at the same time. Kama was not wrong when she said passion and pain were one. And neither was Wessamony when he said we had unbalanced the cosmos. For if one hole punctures a water tank, will not the entire thing drain?”

Anula watched the procession, saw the way the traditions of her people wove in and out of Reeri’s narrative.

Was this what the Yakkas and the Divinities had intended all along?

Perhaps the festival and the blessed gifts were meant to remind humanity of a time before the banishment, before the Kattadiya, before jealousy and greed took precedence over peace and oneness.

“It’s nice,” she whispered, a flower resting on her head.

“Yes,” Reeri whispered, too, taking the bloom in his hand. “I miss it. I am grateful it exists, if only in this form.”

“Sohon was right: all art transports us.” Anula plucked a petal from his curls. “You’ll have this again.”

“Fate willing.”

Anula snorted. “Was that a jest?”

“I would never.” But his lips twitched at the edge. Anula’s heart fluttered.

“And what about me? What will happen to my soul when our bargain is complete and Wessamony is dead?”

Reeri frowned. “I am not entirely sure.”

“My auntie used to say that we only understand a quarter of what the Heavens are capable of.”

“A wise woman,” he murmured, then regarded her. “I may not know the specifics, but I promise to be next to you when it happens.”

Anula met his gaze. A quiet, heavy moment slipped between them. Singing crested the hill. Reeri closed his eyes, tapped his foot, and hummed along.

“You know this song?”

“It is as old as I am. Though they do not dance the same anymore.”

“ You danced?”

Reeri’s eyes flashed open. A hint of saffron blazing, smoldering out as his throat bobbed. Then he reached out and grabbed her hand. He spun her out and back in, twirling her up against his chest.

His heart beat erratically.

His breaths came heavy and fast.

Reeri tucked the flower behind her ear, and she saw it, what they were both thinking of: The press of his body against hers, their lips crushing into each other’s, their mouths exploring. A kiss, fast and deep and long.

It tingled up Anula’s spine, blazed in her belly, and she squeezed his hand tight.

But still, she yearned for more. More of him, his mouth, his hands, his everything, everywhere.

She drowned in the want. Perhaps she could make another bargain after this one.

Ask him to stay. Ask him to be by her side as she ruled by day and in her bedchamber by night.

She flushed at the idea that she had ever seen Reeri as anything other than what he was. For ever making a deal with the Kattadiya and putting him in danger…all for a crown.

Vengeance had ruled her heart once. But now—

“We cannot,” he growled, even as he pulled her closer and their dancing turned to a slow sway, his fingers twining into hers.

“I know.”

“But I—”

“Me too.”

“You cannot dance here alone,” a voice called.

They jolted, breaking apart. Heart hammering, Anula glanced up into the too-long, too-sharp features of a cosmic being. One she actually recognized.

“Take my hand,” Ratti said, a sharp smile glinting. “I will lead you to where you should be.”

Like lightning, the words struck Anula. Lit up the memory of the caves, the tunnels, and all within the Pleasure Gardens.

Where one could look, but not see.

“The K—” Anula’s whisper cut off.

“What?” Reeri asked.

Anula pulled at the seam in the painting. “I have a lot to explain, and I will, I promise. But first, I have to go to the gardens. The Bone Blade is hidden beneath.”