Page 22 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin (The Nightfire Quartet #4)

TWENTY-ONE

“Bad news,” Abishek told Rabin and Zarya the following day over breakfast. He held a note that had just been delivered by his manservant, Omar.

Rabin sipped his coffee, trying to keep from wincing. His body ached from head to toe, and he was feeling more and more lethargic with each passing day. It had taken all his willpower to maintain a healthy facade last night.

As usual, they ate in the king’s solarium, the windows filtering soft light across the flowers and trees. Last night, it had snowed, dusting everything with a fresh blanket of pristine white.

Despite whatever drug-induced haze Abishek had lost himself in at the party, the invite had found them in her room first thing this morning.

“Kishore has been delayed yet again. He’ll be here in a few days,” Abishek went on.

Rabin glanced at Zarya. He was growing increasingly suspicious. Kishore was never away from Andhera this long, and Rabin was beginning to wonder if Abishek was purposely trying to keep them here. The generous reason would be that he wanted to spend more time with Zarya.

“I see,” Zarya said, her voice tight. “In that case, we’ll be returning to Gi’ana today. We can consult the mystic who performed our Bandhan instead.”

“How can you trust her after she already made such an error?” Abishek asked, his tone sharp.

“She didn’t know about my sixth anchor,” Zarya protested.

“She should have asked,” Abishek said. “Any qualified mystic would have known to confirm it first.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it, glancing over at Rabin.

Perhaps the king had a point.

“Just a few more days,” he added. “I swear to you. We must ensure this is done right for both of you.”

“It’s been just a few more days for weeks now,” Zarya said. Rabin could tell she was attempting to stay calm and affect a diplomatic tone, but her frustration was obvious. “When will he be back?”

“Have you been able to enter the mind plane yet?” Abishek asked, the question pointed as he regarded both Zarya and Rabin.

They hadn’t. Neither of them had been able to for weeks, and Rabin was ready to tear his hair out. He’d combed through the paramadhar primer cover to cover, looking for an explanation. The book never mentioned a thing about the sixth anchor, but it was written shortly after the Hanera Wars, and any reference to the darkness would have been expressly forbidden and suppressed.

He thought of the Jai Palace Library and wondered if another book might answer this question. There was no chance of writing to Vik to ask. He’d burn up his letters and scatter the ashes to the wind.

“No,” Zarya finally confessed a moment later. “We haven’t been able to enter the mind plane.”

Abishek nodded and sat back, steepling his fingers as his knowing gaze swept over them.

“Then you must wait for Kishore. This mystic of yours can no longer be trusted.”

Rabin reached out and wrapped a hand around Zarya’s wrist. Abishek blinked, noting the gesture, his gaze zeroing in on it. It was an involuntary movement. One he couldn’t help. He nearly snatched his hand away, but they’d agreed to come clean with the king this morning, and there wasn’t any need to continue hiding this.

They were currently working their way up to the topic.

Zarya nodded as her gaze slid to Rabin with a look that suggested they’d discuss this later. “Very well,” she said, and then they exchanged another look. It was time to reveal their relationship to the king.

“We have something we must share with you,” Rabin blurted. It wasn’t a particularly elegant segue, but he wanted to get this over with. “Something we haven’t been entirely forthright about.”

Suddenly, he was nervous. When Abishek had first forbidden their relationship, he’d thrown caution to the wind. No one would tell him who he couldn’t be with. His feelings for Zarya were too strong to ignore.

Abishek cocked his head, studying Rabin while waiting for him to continue.

“When I left Andhera to seek Zarya out in Ishaan, you asked that I sever any romantic ties with her.” Rabin paused as he folded his hands together on the table.

“I believe I forbade it,” Abishek said, his eyes narrowing. “Quite clearly and explicitly.”

Rabin nodded as he cleared his throat. It was Zarya’s turn to grab his hand. They’d agreed he’d be the one to share the news, as Rabin felt it was his responsibility. Again, Abishek’s gaze narrowed on their contact.

“And you’ve defied my order,” the king said as his eyes lifted. “I was wondering when you’d finally admit it.”

Rabin inhaled a sharp breath. Of course Abishek had known. They’d been fooling no one, and this was just another test. Abishek had only wanted to gauge how long they would keep lying to him.

Rabin nodded. “I’m sorry, but my feelings for your daughter could not be cast aside.”

“Nor mine,” Zarya said. “Rabin shared your…concerns, but we made this decision together. This was inevitable.”

Rabin’s heart squeezed at those words. She’d tried so hard to fight him and hearing her say this with such conviction felt like winning a battle.

“Inevitable?” Abishek said, arching a brow.

“Yes,” Zarya said.

The silence in the room stretched. Rabin hoped the king didn’t really care that much about what they did, but he would care that Rabin had disobeyed a direct order.

“And I’m sorry, but this isn’t your call,” Zarya said. “We are both adults and free to do what we want.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “As I’ve already explained, your efforts with Amir are wasted. Besides, it surprises me that you’d consider a man with such a reputation as a suitable partner for your own daughter.”

She said the words pointedly as Rabin judged Abishek’s reaction.

Abishek’s brows pinched together. “You understand I’ve named you my heir. Whoever you marry will effectively become the ruler of Andhera.”

Rabin felt how she tensed at that statement.

“If I’m to be your heir and take over in your stead, then I will rule, not who I marry .”

She issued the words with a challenge.

“Of course,” Abishek said. “I only meant that you are inexperienced in the ways of my court and would perhaps like to have some guidance from someone familiar with Andhera and its dealings.”

“We’re married,” Rabin said a moment later. He couldn’t keep this in any longer. “You might as well know that in naming Zarya your heir, I will stand beside her. I understand Andhera and its dealings and would be happy to offer anything she needs.”

Rabin watched something pass over the king’s face. Something like rage and disappointment. It was there for a flash and then gone, but maybe a part of him had always known this would be his reaction. When he examined the root of his feelings, maybe Rabin also wanted to hide this because he already knew Abishek might have cared for and even loved him. But in the end, Rabin wasn’t Aazheri and would never be good enough for his daughter.

“Married?” he asked, turning to Zarya. “Is this true?”

“It is,” she confirmed. “We were married in Ishaan shortly before we left.”

Zarya’s chin lifted as if bracing for his wrath.

The king’s gaze fell on Rabin again, another flash of judgment passing over his expression. “I gave you a direct order,” he said.

“You did,” he replied. They held each other’s gazes while Abishek’s jaw hardened and his eyes turned dark. What was going through his head?

“I know you wanted me to marry an Aazheri,” Zarya said, and Rabin felt the sting of those words cut straight to the bone. “But that was never a consideration for me.”

Abishek remained still for another moment before he finally nodded. “I suppose…you are right, and this is not a decision I get to make.”

Rabin’s shoulders eased a fraction. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d feared. A withdrawal of Abishek’s approval? His anger? His hate? Disappointing him in all the same ways that he’d disappointed his biological father? But he already had. He recognized that familiar spark in the king’s eyes. It was the same one he’d witnessed in his father so many times.

“Okay, well, that’s settled, then,” Zarya said. “We’re sorry for keeping it from you, but we worried about what you might say. But this is done, and it cannot be undone. We have pledged ourselves to one another in all the ways that connect us, and we will honor that until the end of our days.”

Abishek’s gaze swept over her. “I understand,” he said.

“We have some decisions to make about our plans,” Zarya said. “I need to check on Row and Yasen and the others, and we must return to Ishaan soon. Before we leave, I’d like to perform the demonstration the nobles asked for—when can we arrange that?”

“We’ve been trying to find a time that will suit everyone,” he said. “But I’ll let them know it’s become more urgent.”

“Great,” Zarya said as she stood up from the table while Abishek watched them both. Rabin threaded his fingers through hers as the king’s attention moved between them, lingering on Rabin for several prolonged seconds.

As they turned to leave, Abishek called out, “Rabindranath, may I speak with you alone for a moment?”

Rabin tensed and turned around before checking with Zarya. “Give me a minute.”

She nodded and slipped out of the room before Rabin approached the king.

“Will you sit?” Abishek asked, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Rabin slid into it and sat forward, prepared for anything. A verbal lashing. The king’s disappointment. Whatever it was, he would endure it.

“You’ve been quiet since you returned,” Abishek said. “I’ve seen very little of you.”

Rabin exhaled a short breath. “I think…I’ve been avoiding you.”

Abishek arched a dark brow. “Because you knew I’d be displeased. I can become rather unpleasant when my orders are dismissed.”

Rabin dipped his chin. “I grappled with the decision. But I had to do what was best for me and Zarya.”

Abishek’s mouth pressed together, his chest expanding with a deep breath. He appeared calm, but the king was skilled at masking his emotions.

“I am angry,” he said. “I won’t deny it. Disappointed. But…you did bring my daughter home, and I haven’t thanked you for that.”

“I’m sorry,” Rabin said. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Abishek offered a considering tip of his head. “How are you feeling? Is the Bandhan affecting you?”

Rabin nodded. “I think it is. I don’t feel quite myself. Another reason I’ve been quiet.”

“I do wish you’d stay,” he said next. “Besides what Kishore can do for you, I enjoy having her here. I enjoy having you both here. The castle isn’t the same without you.”

Rabin’s shoulders finally eased at the warmth in the king’s tone. Despite his insubordination, perhaps he’d survive Abishek’s wrath.

“Zarya is worried about the resistance.”

“Yes,” Abishek said with a smile. “Happy wife, happy life, yes?”

Rabin exhaled an amused snort at that. “Yes. Something like that.”

“I understand,” Abishek said. “Go forth with my blessing, and please tell me if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” Rabin dropped his head in a gesture of respect. “I’m sorry again. We never meant to deceive you.”

“Love makes one do impulsive, sometimes reckless things, doesn’t it? You’ve always been that way. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Rabin frowned. He didn’t really think that was a fair assessment of his character, but he let the comment go. He was just grateful Abishek wasn’t angrier.

“Thank you again,” Rabin said, pushing up from his seat. “Where is Kishore, anyway? It’s unlike him to be away for so long.”

Abishek sighed and wrapped his hands around his armrests in a gesture of weariness. “Initially, I sent him to speak with the mountain clan leaders. They’re still causing me problems, and they’ve always been more amenable to speaking with the mystics. I was hoping they might be persuaded to open some key mountain passes.”

“And?”

“And it’s ongoing,” he said. “After I wrote to him about your Bandhan, he said he’d need some specific ingredients to rectify the issue. Since he was already near the source, he thought it made more sense to gather everything before returning home.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this?” Rabin asked.

Abishek shook his head. “Sometimes, I forget I don’t have to keep everything close to my chest. Old habits die hard.”

“I see.”

After a short bow, Rabin again turned to leave.

As he crossed the room, Abishek called out to him one more time, “Rabindranath, should you ever defy a direct order from me again, understand there will be consequences.”

Rabin came to a stop and peered over his shoulder. The king watched him unblinking as Rabin dipped his chin.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said before striding from the room, trying to ignore the apprehensive shiver crawling down his spine.