Page 13 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin (The Nightfire Quartet #4)

TWELVE

Miraan wanted to get going as soon as possible. Rabin left his room, heading for Abishek’s wing to speak with his people about arranging transport. They burst into a flurry of activity at his command. They were used to figuring things out at a moment’s notice.

When he was done, he returned to his wing, where Zarya was helping Yasen and Miraan pack up their things, dressed in her finery. She was like a gorgeous, miraculous butterfly flitting between islands of discarded clothing. The sight amused him so much that he stopped to lean in the doorframe simply to watch her.

Less than an hour later, the carriage was ready.

Zarya and Rabin escorted Yasen and Miraan to the main level of the castle and out through the front doors. Night was falling, and the stars were beginning to appear overhead. Zarya shivered, pulling her sheer dupatta tighter around her shoulders, though the thin material would do nothing to block out the cold.

She hugged Yasen and Miraan goodbye, and they all promised to see each other soon. Rabin hoped that was true, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that they shouldn’t be separating and that this might be the last time they saw one another.

But he was being maudlin. He’d felt off ever since their arrival. His body ached, and he was exhausted. Even now, his temple throbbed with a sharp pain he couldn’t seem to shake. He was rakshasa, and these sorts of minor ailments were incredibly rare amongst his kind unless there was some larger force at play.

Finally, Miraan entered the carriage and waited for Yasen to finish his goodbyes. It wouldn’t be as fast as flying, but Abishek’s carriage would see them to Ishaan in less than a week. In a few days, Rabin would fly Zarya to Gi’ana, and they’d meet there at almost the same time.

Rabin shook hands with Yasen as he asked in a low voice, “You promise to look out for her?”

Rabin tried not to be offended by the question, even if he understood its intention. No one would look out for her like he would. “With my life.”

Yasen paused and then gave him a careful look. “You take care of yourself, too, Commander.”

“I will, as long as you promise to do the same,” he answered.

Then Yasen spun on his heel and joined Miraan, hopping into the carriage.

Once they were gone, Zarya turned to Rabin.

“So I guess we have some stuffy nobles to meet,” she said as she shivered again.

He held out an arm. “Let’s get this over with.”

Zarya followed Rabin back into the palace and the warmth of its walls before he directed her through the corridors into a large salon. Like most rooms in the castle, it was adorned with colorful tapestries and rugs with massive crystal chandeliers dripping from above. Vanshaj, painted entirely gold from head to toe and wearing gold versions of their palace livery, wove through the crowd, balancing golden trays topped with golden goblets.

Unsurprisingly, the room was filled with Aazheri. Zarya had never been around so many at once, and she could feel the echoes of their power the moment she walked into the room. She stopped, sensing the potent thrum of their magic through her bones.

Suddenly feeling intimidated, a tiny quiver of fear fluttered in her stomach as she clung tighter to Rabin’s arm.

“Zarya!” came Abishek’s warm voice. “You’re finally here!”

He stood in the middle of the room, dashing in a black sherwani embroidered with glossy red thread, and his midnight hair slicked back from his face.

“Come and meet some people,” he said, gesturing for her to join him. She looked up at Rabin, her hand tightening on his arm again, seeking reassurance in his gaze. She could feel the weight of everyone’s stares and judgment as they progressed into the crowd.

Abishek’s smile was wide, and his eyes were uncharacteristically bright with excitement as they approached. “Meet Tanvi and Garu,” he said, introducing her to an Aazheri couple dripping with jewels and diamonds. They emanated a fresh, sweet scent that smelled rich even from several feet away. She’d never seen skin so lustrous. It was like Tanvi was an actual pearl dug up from the bottom of the sea.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Zarya said, dipping her head, refusing to release her tight hold on Rabin.

“Is it true? You are paramadhar and masatara?” Tanvi asked, blinking her big dark eyes framed with the longest, fullest lashes Zarya had ever seen.

“It is,” she conceded. “We first met in the mind plane.”

“This is remarkable,” Garu said. “It seems the old magic is returning to our world. We must understand why the gods have chosen to bestow us with such wonders.”

Zarya remembered Thriti saying something similar when they’d completed the Bandhan. Why had they been chosen for this? To free the vanshaj? Or was something else also at play?

“It is quite an honor,” Zarya said, attempting to keep the worry out of her voice. Rabin dipped his chin though he remained silent, his expression bordering on ferocious. Tanvi and Garu eyed him warily as they turned to Zarya and smiled, obviously pleased with her response.

“The king tells us you’ve arrived from Ishaan,” Garu continued. “Were you caught up in the riots?”

“We were…” she said, wondering how much to reveal. With Abishek’s current reluctance to discuss the vanshaj, maybe this was her chance to appeal to a wider, and likely influential, circle.

“It was my magic that broke the collars,” she said in a rush as their eyes widened.

“ Your magic?” Tanvi asked.

Zarya nodded and went on to explain the process using her nightfire, careful to leave out any mentions of the sixth anchor. Her magic was no longer a secret, but she wasn’t sure how others would react to the darkness. Did they know the king possessed six anchors? She glanced at Abishek, whose face remained expressionless.

“We must see this,” Garu said. “More than one kind of magic is returning. Change is coming to Rahajhan.”

He lifted his glass in a toast, and Zarya’s chest loosened at his words.

Change was coming.

“Yes,” Abishek finally said. “Zarya has promised to show me, but I don’t believe this is the time or place. We’ll invite Kamal and Mohandas to witness her demonstration in a private setting before we share this news more widely. We don’t want to repeat the mistakes made in Ishaan.”

“Of course,” Garu said. “I look forward to it.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Abishek excused them to continue mingling.

“When can we arrange for the demonstration?” she asked as they walked.

“Soon,” the king assured her. “Let me speak with some of my nobles. It’s best to be cautious about who we share this information with.”

“Okay,” she said, feeling more hopeful than she had in a while.

The king maneuvered their trio around the room, introducing her to dozens of people, each more elegant and refined than the last. They were all fascinated by the Bandhan and the fact they were in the presence of a paramadhar and masatara pairing.

She quickly lost track of the names and faces, hoping no one would notice as she smiled politely and made what she hoped were the appropriate comments for a princess.

She almost laughed the first time someone called her that but managed to restrain herself. The idea was so absurd and far-fetched. She didn’t want to rule a realm. She wanted to go to university. She wanted to live with Rabin in a beautiful house in the heart of the city where she could walk to the market whenever she liked. She wanted to be surrounded by friends and family. She wanted the exact opposite of her previous life.

She couldn’t wait for a different future. The one she’d imagined so many times in her loneliness.

“Rabin,” Abishek finally said after they’d made a complete circuit around the room, and Zarya’s head buzzed with dozens of details she would never remember. “Can you see what’s keeping Ekaja? I hoped she’d speak with Khari tonight. He has acquired a new weapons stash from across the sea, and you know he’ll only deal directly with her.”

Rabin bent at the waist and then looked at Zarya. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

“Sure,” she said. She didn’t want him to leave, but it might sound childish if she begged him to stay. What was the worst that could happen within a few minutes?

After Rabin left, Zarya watched the door until he disappeared and returned her attention to Abishek.

“Something to drink?” he asked, and she nodded. He took her arm and led her through the party, finding her a glass of sparkling wine. He tipped his glass against hers with a soft clink. “To our future together, Zarya. I’m so very pleased you’re here, and I do hope you’ll feel comfortable enough to stay for a long time.”

She took a sip as warring emotions twisted in her stomach.

He was planning their futures, and though she also wanted that, she had to leave. Could he understand how important the rebellion was to her? He’d agreed to a wider demonstration, and that had to mean something. Some part of her wondered if Kishore’s supposed delays were actually a plot to keep her here longer, but then she felt guilty for thinking it. He knew why she had to leave.

“I am, too,” she answered as he looked past her.

“Ah! Amir, there you are!”

Zarya turned around to be met by a pair of bright blue eyes and a pretty face with the barest layer of day-old scruff framed by a mane of shaggy black hair.

“Your Majesty,” Amir replied smoothly. “It’s so kind of you to invite me. My mother sends her regards.”

Abishek smiled. “How is the lovely Dipita?” he asked, and Amir grinned.

“Everything ails my mother as usual, but she’ll be pleased to know she was referred to as lovely outside of her hearing and not just because you were goaded into saying so.”

Abishek laughed, but when Zarya looked closer, she noticed how his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and that his voice was a little too bright. It had been the same way the entire night. He was playing a game, and he was playing it beautifully. How much did he owe to these nobles around the room?

She was fascinated by the king’s behavior because it was the exact opposite of how he behaved with her. He moved through the crowd with ease, remembering everyone’s names and personal details, but she could sense he was also maintaining a careful distance.

In turn, they accepted him with all the politeness due to his station, but there was something reserved in their deference towards him. She remembered what Rabin had told her about enemies on his every side, spreading lies to discredit his position. It was obvious how much of a facade this was, and Zarya didn’t think she cared for any of it.

“Please let me introduce you to Zarya,” the king said, placing a hand on Zarya’s back and gently, if forcefully, moving her closer to Amir.

Amir gave her a bright smile, his gaze traveling up and down as if weighing and assessing the various parts she had to offer.

“So this is the prodigal daughter,” he said in an all-knowing tone she also didn’t care for.

He took her hand and kissed the back while peering up through thick, dark lashes. Amir wore a green sherwani with expensive-looking gold embroidery around the collar and cuffs. An errant lock of black hair fell out of place, and he pushed it back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Zarya. The king told me of your beauty, but he was very modest in his assessment.”

Zarya frowned. “He did?”

Amir and Abishek both chuckled at her question.

“Zarya, Amir is from the finest noble family in Andhera. You probably noticed their estate overlooking the city. His father was my former commander and spent many years at my side. May the gods preserve his soul.”

Zarya looked at Amir. “I’m sorry,” she said, but he waved it off.

“I miss him every day, but it was many years ago, and though the loss never entirely goes away, the sting lessens over time.”

Amir then gestured to one of the gold-painted servants for a glass of wine. A woman scurried over and dipped into a curtsy as she held up the tray.

“But I lost a father many years ago, and it seems you have found one, Zarya,” Amir said. “How remarkable. The king shared some parts of your tale with me. How are you adjusting to this change in…station?”

“It’s all been pretty overwhelming,” she answered, noting the inflection on the word “station” as though she’d crawled out from a gutter covered in slime. “But I grew up thinking both of my parents were dead, and so it’s been a lot to adjust to.”

Amir smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “I can only imagine.” He sipped his wine, once again eyeing her, and she couldn’t help but feel like he was weighing and cataloging her assets. Or lack thereof.

“Your father tells me you enjoy reading,” he continued.

“Zarya has been spending many hours in my library,” Abishek said. “She’s a very powerful Aazheri. With her lineage, what else could she be?”

“Indeed,” Amir said.

“And Amir here,” Abishek continued. “He’s also a very talented Aazheri.”

“That’s…lovely,” Zarya said, her brow furrowing. Why did it feel like Abishek was trying…to sell Amir to her? Was he trying to set them up? Or was she missing some kind of social cue buried in subtext? Abishek hadn’t acted this way around anyone else. Did Amir know what was happening? Was she imagining how they were taking their cues from one another?

“I’ll leave you to it,” Abishek said. “Get to know one another. I’ll come and check on you in a bit.” And then, before Zarya could say anything else, Abishek turned and walked away, melting into the crowd.

Rabin stormed through the castle, his firm steps punishing the stones underfoot. He remained on edge and hated that he couldn’t figure out why. Everything was bothering him lately.

That party. Those people. The king. The way something kept nagging in the back of his thoughts.

He’d always had very good instincts and had learned long ago never to ignore that sixth sense until he could determine the source. But he had no clue what this was about.

Plus, he felt like shit.

Turning a corner, he approached the doors to Ekaja’s apartments. He wasn’t sure why a servant couldn’t have managed this errand, but he didn’t mind a break from the party. He hated leaving Zarya alone, but she could handle herself for a few minutes. He could see how enamored she was becoming with the king and saw so much of himself in her during his first years living in Andhera.

Ekaja never waited after knocking, and Rabin rarely offered her the courtesy, either. He rapped on the door and flung it open, storming into her room and coming to an abrupt halt. Now he understood the reason for Ekaja’s delay.

She was completely naked, her dark hair falling down her back as she straddled the face of another woman, her hips writhing and her back arched as she moaned and gasped. The woman beneath her had her arms wrapped around Ekaja’s firm thighs, eating her out with an admirable sort of enthusiasm.

Neither had noticed him yet.

He cleared his throat, but Ekaja continued moaning, her hips shifting back and forth as she ground her pussy into her companion’s mouth.

He tried again, louder this time, and then added, “Ekaja!”

Finally, she noticed him. Offering him a sidelong glance, she continued riding the woman’s face, keeping up her pace as she licked her lips and tossed him a coy look. He rolled his eyes. He was more than used to her antics.

“What?” she finally asked.

She had never been shy about flaunting her body, no matter the audience, but he always kept his gaze planted firmly above her neck.

“The king wants you at the party.”

She returned his eye roll and then resumed fucking the woman’s face. “I’m busy.”

“Ekaja,” he growled, his voice dropping low.

“I’m coming!”

Except she meant that literally. She cried out, her body arching as her movements grew more frantic.

“Fuck, Ekaja. Get your ass down there now ,” he demanded and then turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him to the sounds of Ekaja rocking through what sounded like a pretty fantastic orgasm.

He waited on the other side of the door, pacing, even more irritated than before. He wasn’t angry with Ekaja, but everything was getting under his skin.

After she finished moaning, he heard them shuffling on the other side of the door, followed by a chorus of laughter and giggling. That was definitely her friend. Ekaja didn’t giggle.

Finally, the door swung open, and Ekaja sauntered out with a shit-eating grin. She made a show of slowly wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and then slapped him on the ass before she began stalking down the hall. He barely reacted, a low growl building in his throat.

She looked over her shoulder and called, “Well, are we heading to the party?”

He huffed out a breath and caught up, his long strides matching hers.

“What’s in your panties?” she asked.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

She snorted. “Just because you’re sexually frustrated doesn’t mean I have to be.”

He grunted. He was frustrated.

He missed Zarya. Maybe that’s what this mood was about, but that didn’t seem like him. He’d gone plenty of years without the touch of a woman during the darkest days on the battlefield with only his hand for company. He wasn’t ruled by his cock like so many men. But he’d learned enough times that everything he believed about himself went out the window where Zarya was concerned.

Finally, they arrived back at the party and stood in the doorway. Immediately, he caught sight of Zarya with Abishek. They were talking to Amir . Or the weasel, as Rabin preferred to call him. He was constantly sniffing around the castle, sucking up to the king, and worming his way into his good graces. Even worse were the whispered rumors that followed the young noble wherever he went—namely, the abuse he’d heaped on a string of female partners, both of a sexual and corporeal nature.

His parents were wealthy enough to ensure the bulk of the accusations were hushed, never to be uttered in polite company, but everyone knew .

Amir was also incredibly powerful amongst Aazheri, and that offered a certain type of leverage that not even money could buy. Abishek had even mused once or twice about naming Amir his heir, though Rabin didn’t believe he’d ever follow through on such a promise. Abishek believed in blood.

Ekaja currently stood as the Aazheri prepared to inherit Abishek’s legacy if he died without naming an heir. She wasn’t technically blood, but the king considered her family all the same.

With Zarya in the picture, he couldn’t be sure where Abishek’s plan lay.

What Rabin wanted to know was why that scum was anywhere near her .

He watched as Abishek introduced Zarya and Amir, pressing her a little closer towards him. His eyes narrowed as Amir studied Zarya, his gaze sweeping over her in a way that made Rabin want to walk over and poke his eyes out with the tip of a burning sword. And then step on them to feel the satisfying squelch as they collapsed under his boots.

“Settle down,” came a soft voice to his left. Ekaja was also watching the scene, clearly picking up on the same thing he was. Or maybe she was just sensing his mood. “You’ll give away your little secret if you can’t control yourself.”

Rabin growled deep in his chest, his hands curling at his sides. “I’ll kill him. He’s vile filth.”

She barked out a dry laugh. “Absolutely, but go ahead and do it where there aren’t a hundred witnesses. You’re being so fucking obvious.”

“She’s mine. In every way.”

Ekaja raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

He nodded and then stared back at Zarya, who looked a bit like a rabbit caught in the path of a predator. “There’s never been anyone like her before. Nor will there be again.”

Ekaja didn’t respond. She just tipped her head and scanned the crowd.

“Ah, there’s Khari,” she said. “I should go talk to him as His Majesty ‘suggested.’ Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

Rabin rolled his neck, attempting to release some of the tension wrenching his muscles tight. “I can’t promise that.”

She snorted another dry laugh and then melted through the crowd while Rabin kept his gaze focused on Zarya. Abishek had moved on, and now Zarya stood with Amir, obviously trying to make polite conversation.

Rabin watched as Amir inched closer, laying a hand on Zarya’s arm. Rabin nearly bit through his tongue, trying to keep himself in check. He knew she wouldn’t appreciate him barging in to rescue her, but she also couldn’t know what sort of man Amir really was.

He noticed how her shoulders tightened at the contact, and Rabin decided that along with his eyes, he would also rip off Amir’s arm and beat him to death with it. However, that seemed too mild a reaction.

When Amir leaned down to whisper something to Zarya, Rabin had enough. He stormed over, practically bowling several party guests out of his way.

“Amir,” he said through gritted teeth. “So nice to see you.”

It took every ounce of his willpower not to punch his smug face so hard his neck would snap, but Ekaja’s warning rang in his ears.

“Rabin!” Amir said in that smooth, oily way that always had Rabin thinking of snakes slithering through poisonous grass. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“Well, I am,” he nearly snarled as his hand wrapped around Zarya’s elbow before he maneuvered them both so Rabin stood between them.

“What were you two talking about?” he asked. He didn’t really care if it was rude.

“I was inviting Zarya to my mountain lodge,” Amir said as if that were the most obvious thing. “You’ll love it. It’s very sumptuous. Deep in the Sprucegreen Range with the most breathtaking views you’ve ever seen. Much better than this.” He waved a hand around them as if these majestic soaring mountains were anything to scoff at.

“Oh,” Zarya said. “As I was saying, I’d have to consider it. We can’t be in Andhera long. We must return to Ishaan soon.”

“Ishaan?” Amir asked. “Does your father know of this?”

Rabin felt Zarya go a bit still at the question. “He does. Why do you ask?”

Amir shrugged and took a sip of his wine. “I understood you’d be staying here indefinitely so we could get to know one another better.”

Zarya blinked, and Rabin felt a snarl building in his throat.

“Oh, why is that?” she asked, though he could tell she was stalling. She had already put it all together. Abishek was trying to pair her up with this monster. Had the king heard the rumors?

“Oh, well…” Amir said, almost at a loss for words. Did he think Zarya knew and was in on this? What game was Abishek playing?

“We should mingle,” Rabin said before Amir could finish his thought. “You haven’t met everyone yet.”

Rabin glared at Amir and resisted the overwhelming urge to tell him to stay the fuck away from Zarya.

Then, before either could respond, he took Zarya’s hand and pulled her away.