Page 3 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin (The Nightfire Quartet #4)

TWO

The word seemed to hang in the air, coalescing into something solid and malleable, dense but shapeable depending on what direction the wind blew. It tethered her to the floor, cementing her to the snow and mountains and gusts of cold air howling across the tundra.

Father .

There he stood, blinking as if also trying to convince himself she was real. He wore black leather pants and a black kurta, his wavy hair brushing the tops of his shoulders. Like all Aazheri, his appearance belied his age, but they did age, albeit slowly, and the finest lines hugged his forehead and the corners of his eyes. He was at least as old as Row—nearly ancient—a fact that became obvious in the bottomless depth of his assessing stare.

“We bring news from Gi’ana,” Rabin said, bending at the waist and pressing a fist to his heart. “And as you can see, I also bring a few visitors who I think you will be pleased to meet.”

“Is this…her?” Abishek asked, raking Zarya from head to toe. “Zarya?”

She nodded, tears pressing her eyes as she suddenly felt the strangest urge to cry.

Abishek took a slow step down the dais and paused, almost as if he was worried about approaching too quickly. She responded by moving an inch closer.

“Pleased indeed,” he whispered, descending another step and then another before his boots hit the floor. Slowly, he neared, studying her face. She felt his assessment in how he took in each of her features.

Eyes. Nose. Mouth.

Hair. Head. Face.

He stopped and cocked his head.

“You look exactly like her,” he said, but she couldn’t determine the essence of that sentiment, good or bad.

She offered him a rueful twist of her lips. “So, I’ve been told.”

Abishek huffed out a small breath that might have resembled a laugh. “Remarkable. Absolutely remarkable. When Rabindranath told me you existed, I couldn’t quite believe it. Perhaps I didn’t dare. A child . Though, you are already a grown woman.”

Zarya nodded. “I didn’t know of you until a few months ago, either.”

“Because of Row,” the king said. “And Asha, I suppose. Yes. I understand. Rabindranath told me everything.”

She looked at Rabin, who dipped his chin.

“He took good care of you?” Abishek asked next.

She couldn’t make out the tone of that question, either. “He did. He is my father in everything but blood.”

She didn’t know why she said it, but the subtext didn’t go unnoticed, as demonstrated by a tightening around the king’s mouth.

Maybe she was testing him already, wanting to understand how far she could push. He hadn’t willingly abandoned her, but he had bridges to cross to earn her trust. She must remain on her guard despite her desire to build a family connected through blood.

Rabin trusted him, and she trusted that he believed no harm would come to her, but she couldn’t be naive. Row and her mother had believed those terrible things for a reason, and she’d be a fool to disregard them entirely. But she couldn’t deny the liquid pit in her heart that desperately wanted to know her only living parent. Anyone would feel the same.

“I’m grateful to him, then. And I’m…very glad you’re here,” Abishek said.

Zarya didn’t miss the raw emotion in his voice. Was he happy to see her? Did he feel this longing ache in his chest, too?

“Please tell me you’re staying. I would like to get to know you better very much.”

Zarya exchanged a look with Rabin.

“Yes, but for a short time only,” she answered. “I am needed back in Ishaan very soon. For now, though, it’s best we keep our distance from Gi’ana.”

Abishek finally turned his attention to the rest of their motley entourage, his dark gaze already calculating and assessing the situation.

“I hear reports of unrest,” the king said. “Whispers of rebellion.”

“That and so much more,” she answered. “Please meet Prince Miraan Madan of the Gi’ana royal family. And my half-brother.”

She stepped back as Miraan bowed and pressed his hands together before his heart.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “We thank you for sheltering us in our time of need.”

Abishek’s brows pinched together in a gesture she could only interpret as unease before Zarya gestured to Yasen.

“And this is Lieutenant Yasen Varghese. Former Commander of Daragaab’s army and my friend.”

Abishek studied Yasen and then nodded before bowing to him with his hands pressed together. “Any friend of my daughter’s is welcome in Andhera.”

Daughter .

It felt strange to hear him say it so casually, like it was something they’d been to one another from the very start.

Yasen bowed. “Thank you.”

Abishek turned and gestured to the woman waiting on the dais. “And allow me to introduce Commander Ekaja Bhari, chief of my armies.”

Somehow, Zarya wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear this fierce woman was Abishek’s commander. Ekaja sauntered down the steps with a hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword belted at her hip and stopped, regarding Zarya with an arched eyebrow.

Her midnight hair was pulled into a high, braided ponytail. Her dark eyes were ringed in black kohl, and she wore fitted black leather that showed off just how many hours she’d spent in the training ring. Those sharp angles and high cheekbones would turn heads in any room she entered.

“So, you’re the one he’s been so moody about,” Ekaja said with a smirk as she thumbed in Rabin’s direction.

Zarya caught Rabin’s scowl as she opened her mouth and then closed it. “I suppose?”

Ekaja barked out a laugh full of wicked mirth at Rabin’s expense, and Zarya decided she liked this woman already.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you in person,” she said before deferring to her king again.

“I’m afraid we didn’t have time to prepare a more welcoming feast,” Abishek said. “Omar is rather put out, but he’ll survive. I hope you’ll join us for a humble dinner.”

“We’d love that,” Zarya said, confirming with nods to Yasen and Miraan.

“Wonderful.” Abishek clapped his hands sharply twice, and Omar materialized, almost as if from nothing. Again, Zarya couldn’t tear her eyes from his star collar.

Abishek noticed her scrutiny, a deep furrow forming on his forehead. She quickly looked away, offering him what she hoped appeared to be a genuine smile. She sensed she’d have to tread carefully when revealing her part in the vanshaj rebellion.

After another moment, he addressed Omar. “We’re ready for dinner.”

Omar dipped into a deep bow and pressed his hands together. “Yes, Your Majesty. The solarium is ready for you.”

“Come,” Abishek said, “let us get to know one another over food and drink and fascinating conversation.”

They all filed into a group with Abishek at the front. Behind him, Rabin and Ekaja walked next to one another, sharing looks Zarya couldn’t interpret.

Zarya walked alone behind them while Yasen and Miraan followed. She kept glancing over her shoulder at Yasen, who offered her a series of cautious looks. Everything appeared fine. Abishek didn’t seem like the monster she’d imagined, and if he meant her harm, why bother welcoming her? He had enough guards to easily overwhelm all four of them upon their arrival if that had been his intention.

As they walked, Abishek regaled them with details about the castle and the art surrounding them, explaining where he’d acquired each piece. It was obviously something he was very passionate about. They passed more tapestries of the same city she’d seen earlier. She again noted the great stepped building made of silver stone with the sparkling star suspended over it. She blinked as something sharp tugged in the layers of her subconscious. Almost like she’d stood on those very streets herself.

As Abishek continued speaking, she wanted to ask more about the images, but she couldn’t get a word in edgewise. What had started as moderately interesting became wearisome as his monologue dragged on, and her thoughts drifted off.

She stared at Rabin’s back and his stiff shoulders, trying to cast her mind into his. She wished she’d practiced more in Ishaan, but there wasn’t much need. If she’d known they’d find themselves in Andhera, keeping their love a secret, she might have put more effort into communicating without fully entering the mind plane.

She recalled the helplessness she’d felt lying on the floor, being tortured by her sister, when she’d tried to reach for him and had been met with only silence. Her hand drifted to her throat, clutching at the emptiness where her mother’s necklace had once hung. Dishani still had it—or so Zarya presumed. She wondered if there was any chance of recovering it. It felt like a piece of her was missing.

Now she could sense Rabin at least. His presence was there, buried deep in the layers of her subconscious. She couldn’t quite reach him—there were too many distractions here—but at least it felt possible.

Finally, they arrived at a set of doors. A guard opened them, and they entered a large solarium with a glass ceiling and walls. Frost coated the panes, and snow gathered in the corners. Zarya looked up at the pale blue sky and the gentle wisps of clouds floating across the horizon.

Dozens of plants lined the space, surrounding them on every side, softening the stinging chill. In the center, a large table sat surrounded by six chairs, groaning with an abundance of food and drink.

She wondered what he considered a feast if this was a simple meal.

They all sat around the table, and she landed between Rabin and Abishek. She gave Rabin a questioning look, but his expression was unreadable. He seemed even more broody than usual.

When they were seated, a rush of servants entered the room to pour wine and dish out food. More vanshaj bearing the collar. They piled their plates high with coconut-dusted chicken, spiced potatoes, and poached fish swimming in saffron broth. Everything looked and smelled delicious, but Zarya was much too anxious to eat.

“Now, tell me everything,” Abishek said. “I want to know every detail about you from the very beginning.”

Zarya blinked nervously around the room. “I’m sure they don’t want to hear all that.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “This is my table, and I will decide.”

She pressed her mouth together and nodded before recounting the more salient parts of her upbringing. Abishek asked many questions, probing for more and delving into the pieces of her life. She noted Miraan’s interest as he sat forward, nodding here and there. Ekaja also hung on her every word but in a cool and detached way, like she was cataloging every fact, should she need them later.

Rabin listened intently while Yasen looked like he might fall asleep. He already knew all of this, and she didn’t blame him one bit.

When she was done, Abishek chewed on her words, his expression pensive. The sun was setting now, and servants entered to light the tall candelabras circling the room’s perimeter.

When his questions focused on her time in Ishaan, she confessed a few details about what they’d been doing and their role in the rebellion. She mentioned the collars but not how they were specifically related to her magic or the sixth anchor. She hoped to discuss it with him in private so that she might ask about her visions, too.

Surrounded by the others, she wasn’t ready to reveal this secret.

She studied his reaction to freeing the vanshaj but couldn’t read his expression. In the short time she’d been here, she was already discovering that he was a closed book unless he chose to reveal himself. Vanshaj servants surrounded them, and that alone told her where he stood on the issue. But was he like the Madans, clinging to this archaic practice by the very edges of his fingernails, or was he open to being convinced there was another way?

She also confessed that they’d fled to Andhera because they feared Dishani’s wrath and what she might do to Zarya and Miraan.

Abishek took it all in stride, almost as if he’d heard it before.

“Tell me about being masatara and paramadhar,” he said, folding his hands on the table and leaning forward. Zarya and the king glanced at Rabin as she waited for him to take the lead. How did he want to reveal this, and how much did he want to share?

“What would you like to know?” Rabin asked.

“Do you intend to perform the Bandhan? Kishore could start preparations as soon as he returns from an errand he is currently tending for me.” He turned to Zarya. “He is my personal mystic.”

Rabin’s gaze jumped to Zarya, the corners of his lips pressing together before he met his mentor’s gaze. “We have already completed it,” Rabin said. “In Ishaan.”

Abishek’s eyebrows pulled together as his gaze traveled over Rabin’s face. “I see. Did you not think to consult with me on this first?”

Rabin exchanged another look with Zarya. She squeezed her thighs, her defenses rising at Abishek’s tone, almost like he was chastising a toddler and not speaking with a grown warrior.

“It was necessary to aid the rebellion. And we did not want to delay.”

Abishek leaned on his elbows. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Rabin was about to speak, perhaps to apologize or explain everything, but Zarya interrupted. She had already sensed that she might need to intervene when it came to Rabin and the king, and that was already being confirmed.

“It was our decision to make. We chose this. Together. And our reasons are our own.”

Abishek’s gaze moved to her, his expression flattening.

She stared at him, refusing to feel anything but indignant that he thought it was his place to question their choices. He’d met her all of ten minutes ago, and Rabin wasn’t even technically his subject or a citizen of this realm. She was beginning to understand why Rabin insisted on keeping their marriage a secret.

“Of course,” Abishek said, his expression softening. “I am only surprised as I thought you would take some time to consider it.” He looked at Rabin. “It is a rather big decision to make. One that could have far-reaching consequences.”

“One I made willingly,” Rabin offered immediately, and Abishek nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said, addressing Zarya now. “I’m new to being a parent. It seems I have much to learn.”

She returned his nod, trying to rein in her annoyance. “I’ve managed on my own so far.”

“Forgive me,” Abishek said, pressing both hands to his heart. “I did not mean to overstep.”

Zarya studied him for a moment, sensing his remorse was genuine, before tipping him a small smile. “It’s fine. I’m sure we both have a few things to learn.”

“Kishore is considered the most skilled of his kind. I would have been happy to offer his services,” he continued.

She did her best to affect a pleasant smile. “That’s kind of you, but again, we managed fine.”

“Would you allow him to examine the bond once he returns? I’d prefer if he ensured it was done properly.”

Zarya’s mouth opened. Thriti had seemed more than competent, and Zarya was sure the mystic had known exactly what she’d been doing.

“Please,” Abishek asked. “It would make me happy.”

She found herself nodding. “Sure. Of course. As long as Rabin is okay with it.”

Rabin nodded, and Abishek smiled. “Wonderful—he’s eager to meet you.”

Zarya waited for him to elaborate on why that was or why it mattered, but instead, he swept out a hand and called for dessert. They spent the next hour drinking and eating while Abishek asked questions of Yasen and Miraan, delving into the details of their lives. He seemed genuinely interested and concerned for all of them.

As they ate, Zarya finally felt herself relaxing.

She’d been so nervous about arriving, but the king wasn’t what she’d expected at all. Yes, he was a bit overprotective and perhaps a little autocratic, for lack of a better term, but he was a king, and that was his nature.

But he also seemed genuine in his eagerness to know her, and she didn’t sense anything sinister or amiss despite all of Row’s warnings. How he engaged with Miraan and Yasen also suggested a sincere person living under his somewhat abrupt exterior.

When everyone had eaten their fill, Abishek turned to Zarya again.

“I would love to talk more about your nightfire,” he said. “I’m still somewhat in awe that Asha’s prophecy was fulfilled after all this time.”

Zarya hesitated, searching for any hidden meanings in the question. Row had been so sure Abishek would want her nightfire.

“What would you like to know?” she asked carefully.

“More about how it works. If you are willing, I’d love to see it. I’ve read the accounts of the Ashvins and the way they described it. As Rabindranath has probably explained, I’ve always been fascinated with magic of all kinds. Particularly a gift as rare and ancient as this.”

“He did. I also have some questions to that end.”

“Of course. I’m happy to share whatever I can.” He clapped his hands together. “I do hope you’ll all stay for a while. You’re welcome to remain for as long as you need, and you’ll be safe within my walls.”

Zarya swallowed the sudden knot in her throat.

She’d expected to feel every emotion when meeting her father. She hadn’t been given much time to prepare for this, and they all crowded for space in her heart.

Abishek looked at Zarya again, a soft smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He raised a glass and tipped it to everyone seated around the table, finishing with her.

“Welcome, my daughter. I am so very pleased that you’ve finally come home.”