Page 25 of The Prince Without Sorrow

Chapter Twenty-Four

Shakti

S HAKTI’S FIRST FEW DAYS UNDER THE EMPLOYMENT OF Princess Aarya were spent training before she was able to follow closely behind her like a watchful dog. Combat with Ran soldiers gave her energy; Master Hasith’s teaching had allowed her to be on par with them without too much strain. The thought gave her an inflated sense of pride.

What she despised was having to shadow the princess, especially since much of her days were spent in council meetings. Yesterday’s had been a particularly mind-numbing affair, with the princess proposing a decrease in the cost of textiles.

Often, Shakti wondered if Princess Aarya could sense her distaste: the grudge she harboured for plucking her away from Prince Ashoka and the promise of Taksila. The answer was always a resounding no . It took little time to discover that the princess was as vain as a peacock.

Today’s topic was more disturbing: mayakari burnings. The emperor, the princess, and several council members sat around a large, lacquered table while the guards stood back in silence. This was a frequently discussed topic, one that made Shakti want to go on a rampage and attack every member present. They spoke of her people as if they were nothing more than livestock bred for consumption.

‘The governor of Chalamba reported new two burnings in one of its small townships,’ Consul Rangana said. ‘There was some minor... pushback from its citizens.’

‘Sympathizers?’ Emperor Arush inquired from his seat at the head of the table.

‘No, Your Highness,’ the consul replied. ‘Women and their families. Dozens were burn-tested before the two mayakari were found.’

With a nonchalance that set Shakti’s fury aflame, Arush leaned back and shrugged. ‘Unfortunate, but it is the price that must be paid.’

Just you wait, Arush , she thought, clenching her jaw. My first victim will be you.

To her utter surprise, she was not the only one who appeared infuriated by his response. One, in particular, held all the temperament of a disturbed winged serpent as she spoke:

‘You have the privilege of indifference, brother,’ Princess Aarya refuted, her tone cold. ‘You will never be burn-tested.’

Scoffing in incredulity, Emperor Arush narrowed his eyes. ‘Neither will you,’ he replied. ‘Why would you care? Are the mayakari not so pressing as your insane desire to explore those ridiculous deadlands?’

‘Of course we need to expose mayakari,’ the princess replied crossly, ‘but we should act to reduce the harm of innocent human women.’

The irony of it all , Shakti thought. Mayakari are innocent women, too.

The emperor raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you have a proposal for this, sister?’ he asked. ‘Or will you simply spout vague opinions without presenting a proper plan?’

‘Nothing comes to mind yet, brother,’ the princess replied, schooling her features into an inscrutable expression. ‘Though I shall present a solution if I find one.’

Shakti wondered if the emperor picked up on the princess’s tone: polite and clipped, as if she were holding a thousand curses back.

Once the meeting adjourned, Shakti followed the princess as she took a short stroll about the palace. It was just the two of them, the silence as stifling as a cold. For the most part, the princess was quiet. She appeared faraway, lost in her own thoughts, and Shakti was only too happy to follow along quietly.

She half-wished the princess would request to wander the outskirts of the Golden City; she wished so badly to be surrounded by nature. Shakti had received her first letter from Nayani a few days prior, of Taksila’s hill-laden paradise. Then came the unfortunate discovery that letters to the palace were carefully monitored. Luckily, Nayani hadn’t written anything to arouse suspicion, but it made Shakti think twice about maintaining frequent communication.

To her surprise, the princess eventually made her way towards Prince Ashoka’s quarters, where she stopped in front of the closed door. She seemed to be in a mindless daze.

‘Do you have siblings?’ Princess Aarya asked her, breaking Shakti’s ruminations.

‘I— no, princess. I am an only child,’ Shakti replied. Orphan was the better word for it, but that truth would cost her. ‘Why do you ask?’

Adjusting the bright pink pallu of her sari, the princess shrugged. ‘No matter, then,’ she said. ‘You would not understand the vexation that siblings can cause.’

Interesting. ‘Nonetheless, I can empathize, princess,’ Shakti offered.

Aarya gazed at her for a moment, her hard eyes unflinching. Adil’s face stared back at her, taunting. Mocking. Shakti resisted the sudden urge to deface the flawless face with a rusty dagger.

‘Empathy is difficult,’ Aarya replied. Then, ‘Arush appears disinterested in any proposal that doesn’t consider war.’

Anyone with half a brain could see that. The young emperor’s eyes lit up when expansion was discussed, but the moment more mundane matters came to the forefront of a conversation, his eyes dimmed.

‘Is expansion not what the Ran Empire requires, princess?’ Shakti asked, wanting to gag at the question. She couldn’t imagine how many more mayakari would burn beneath the Ran flag.

‘Of course it does,’ Aarya said offhandedly, ‘but what good is an empire without control of its inner workings? A competent ruler must be interested in both, and it appears that Arush is not. If father were here, he would tell him the same.’

Your father is here , Shakti thought, mildly amused. He is inside my head, and he cannot leave .

‘Not every monarch can be your father, princess,’ Shakti replied.

Princess Aarya turned her head away. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘He can’t.’

Despite herself, Shakti felt a twinge of sympathy. She understood that demeanour, the hung head, the downcast eyes, the glazed expression. This was the picture of someone who had lost and had let that loss affect them badly. It was her whenever she thought of Jaya.

‘You miss Emperor Adil,’ she said without thinking. She hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant to offer what sounded like compassion. The princess’s father was a tyrant, and she a tyrant’s daughter, but grief did not change its ways for those who were wicked. Pain was felt, therefore sorrow followed. ‘It will take time to heal.’

When the princess spoke, her voice was croaky. ‘How would you know, Shakti?’ she asked. Her caustic tone still carried through. ‘Have you ever known loss?’

Shakti kept her face impassive when she said, ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘My aunt passed away from an incurable illness, I’m afraid. She died... peacefully.’

Each lie speared her through the chest. Shakti half-expected a phantom to tear through her skin, break through her ribcage, and rip out her heart as penance for how she described Jaya’s death. She saw it being squeezed, saw the muscle deform under the pressure, and splatter on the ground like pulverized potatoes.

Some would mark her and Aarya’s losses to be similar; both had lost family. And yet, the magnitude of them was different. Jaya died a senseless death. Adil’s had been justified.

Who are you to justify death, little bird?

She felt her wrist being squeezed. When she glanced down, she found Aarya holding onto it lightly. How unexpected. ‘I am sorry for your loss,’ the princess said sombrely. ‘How did you contend with it?’

‘I...’ Her immediate thought was to say ‘ By seeking revenge ’, but that would have been an unpalatable answer. ‘I wallowed in my thoughts for a while. I liked being alone with them.’

The princess scrunched up her nose. ‘I would despise that,’ she replied. ‘I prefer to be accompanied. Distracted.’

Distracted. The whole palace knew how Princess Aarya kept herself distracted from her grief. During her night-time posts, Shakti had seen enough lovers enter Aarya’s bedchambers and leave the next morning flushed, rumpled, some with scratch marks on their arms and shoulders, to know that she had kept herself plenty preoccupied.

At first, Shakti couldn’t decide whose way was healthier in terms of dealing with grief. It was only later she decided that neither was the correct answer.

Before she could respond, another voice cut through their bizarre exchange.

‘Sister?’

A cold shiver ran down Shakti’s spine. Arush . What was he doing here?

The young emperor had arrived with three guards by his side. Shakti had immediately noticed that he never travelled without them. She’d heard that he had them posted outside his doors when he invited court ladies into his chambers. Maybe he was afraid that he would one day fall victim to death like his father now that he was monarch, a sentiment Shakti understood. Paranoia did that to people. Aarya, meanwhile, toured the palace like a self-entitled cat who thought that nothing, not even the mighty nature spirits, could hurt her, and all but chased away guards whenever she invited men and women into her chambers.

‘Arush?’ Princess Aarya threw up her hands. ‘What are you doing here?’

The corner of Arush’s lips tilted upward. ‘Are we missing our little brother, Aarya?’ he asked. ‘He has not yet been gone two weeks.’

Shakti observed interestedly as the princess’s rouged mouth tilted downward. Did she really miss her brother? The princess presented herself to be so spiteful that it left little room to entertain the idea that she could care for her youngest sibling.

‘Missing Ashoka is like missing a pathetic stray cat,’ said the princess, effectively destroying all thoughts of Aarya having a modicum of empathy beneath her ruthless guise. ‘I cannot wait for him to run Taksila to the ground.’

‘Give him some credit,’ Arush replied before he turned his gaze on Shakti. ‘Do you think our little brother has a chance at success?’

Princess Aarya sneered. ‘Please,’ she scoffed. ‘He’ll come back with his tail between his legs.’

Whatever smidgen of humanity Shakti had seen in the princess had vanished. ‘I’m unsure, Your Highness,’ Shakti replied to Arush, adding, ‘One can only hope the Great Spirits in Taksila can be pacified.’

‘Such faith,’ Arush commented. ‘I cannot imagine that the Ashoka who sat around and read could lead well. He does not fight – he only ruminates. I will never understand him.’

‘Only because the concept of thinking is foreign to you, brother,’ Aarya replied snidely.

The glint in the emperor’s eyes resembled that of a hound tracking a scent. ‘I can only assume that dealing with my sister is like handling a pit snake?’ he asked her. At his comment, Princess Aarya visibly bristled. ‘Perhaps she is more aggravated because she fears she will lose her position in the war council.’

Princess Aarya’s expression settled into a hard glare. ‘Ashoka will lose his wager,’ she said. ‘Do not attempt to vex me. Why don’t you focus on your duties, brother. Have you viewed my proposal to relocate our soldiers from the Frozen Lands to the south?’

Before she could stop herself, Shakti’s hands went straight to Jaya’s necklace. It felt like an open confession around her neck.

Arush let out a frustrated growl. ‘No, sister. I will not act on anything without assurance from the Ridi prince that more of his cavalry can be sent here,’ he said. ‘I can only hope Saudamini is able to convince him. Are you so sure it was the best option to send her instead of an older consul?’

Shakti caught the barest trace of a sly smile on the princess’s face. ‘Of course, brother,’ she said.

The princess’s insistence on the redistribution of Ran soldiers threatened to take more mayakari lives. But the emperor... for some insane reason, he seemed obsessive about expansion into the Frozen Lands. A fool’s endeavour, by any means. An environment unfamiliar to warmth-adapted bodies would be disastrous. For all that nature provided, it took away with unflinching brutality.

But it would be far better an outcome than having more mayakari lives lost in the south. If Emperor Arush was somehow convinced to make a sudden decision to act without consultation...

An idea formed; a tuberose blossoming in the night while the world slept, smothered by dreams and nightmares.

The reckless emperor not beholden to anyone or anything – Shakti knew just how to shape him.