Page 29 of The Prince Without Sorrow

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Shakti

A RUSH WAS MORE MALLEABLE THAN SHE HAD THOUGHT.

Two days following the dream invasion, he called for an impromptu council meeting, stating that it was a matter of great importance. Shakti was with Princess Aarya when the directive was given to meet the emperor in the throne room in two hours.

Aarya had rolled her eyes. ‘I will not be made to wait,’ she announced, ‘and I do not want to be attacked with any sudden announcements.’

She’d stalked out of her quarters, leaving behind a handful of ruffled maidservants. Shakti had no choice but to follow the princess to the throne room.

‘Brother!’ Aarya exclaimed once they entered. Emperor Arush was sitting on the Obsidian Throne, guards lined neatly in rows behind him. Shakti bowed as was customary as they approached. Aarya, meanwhile, did no such thing and remained as she was. Arush wasn’t as fear-inducing as Adil had been, but there was still something imposing about him, as if he could snap your neck without thinking twice about it. Cruel and handsome features seemed to be a speciality of the Maurya clan.

‘Little sister,’ Arush greeted her. ‘You forgot to bow.’

Aarya stared at her brother, gaze unflinching as she came to a halt at the base of the steps to the throne. ‘Well, go on, then,’ she ordered. ‘Tell me what it is you intend to surprise the council with.’

‘Bow, sister,’ Arush repeated, this time with more force. ‘Being family does not exempt you.’

Still, the princess did nothing. When three of Arush’s soldiers stepped forward, instinct drove Shakti to move in front of the princess. Despite her grievances about the Mauryas, she still had a role to play. Her duty was to the princess first.

She felt a hand gently press against the back of her shoulder before it disappeared. Aarya. The look she gave Shakti was inscrutable as she conceded to Arush and bowed, her gold throatlet swinging like a pendulum, lapis-studded earrings clinking like glass.

‘Better,’ came Arush’s voice. Shakti saw Aarya stiffen as she straightened up.

‘Well then, brother,’ she began, ‘tell me what it is you plan to do.’

The emperor’s response came fast. ‘I am removing all our soldiers from the southern border,’ he stated.

Incredulity and euphoria worked together to lift Shakti’s spirits as she recalled her commandment to Arush. Forget the south. Conquer the Frozen Lands. Make me proud. The dream manipulation – it had worked. Satisfaction rushed through her, cold and sharp.

Meanwhile, Princess Aarya let out an audible gasp. ‘What?’ she screeched. ‘Brother, what on earth for?’

‘My plan is to focus on the conquest of the Frozen Lands.’ Undeterred by his sister’s palpable indignation, Arush continued. ‘Our army is currently spread thin across the four corners of our empire. We need to concentrate it on one area at a time.’

‘What about the Ridi soldiers?’ Aarya demanded. ‘Are they not to be stationed at the northern border?’

Arush shook his head. ‘I received correspondence from Saudamini,’ he said. ‘Apparently the crown prince was unable to be swayed completely. According to him, Prince Ryu was initially preparing to remove all remaining Ridi soldiers from the Ran Empire, but Saudamini convinced him to keep half.’

Aarya muttered something unintelligible.

‘Father was intent on conquering the north as he was the south,’ Arush said. ‘Losing half of the Ridi military is already a blow. I’m simply going about this logically.’

Shakti wondered if his logic had come from her whispering in his dreams.

‘No, you’re being foolish.’ Aarya curled her lip. ‘We are ill-equipped to trek into the north. Our supplies are not enough.’

Arush’s expression was stony. ‘You disagree with my plans, then,’ he said.

Princess Aarya crossed her arms. ‘Completely,’ she replied. ‘Removing our soldiers from the southern border is madness. What about Taksila?’

At the mention of Taksila, Shakti’s ears perked up.

‘What about Taksila?’ Arush sounded almost bored.

‘ Ashoka ,’ Aarya said as if that were answer enough. ‘He is – how will he maintain control of the region without an adequate number of soldiers?’

A curious expression flitted across the emperor’s face. ‘Oh yes, it nearly slipped my mind,’ he said. ‘Some of the Ridi soldiers will be sent to Taksila. It would counteract the removal of our own soldiers there. I heard that Saudamini negotiated her way through that deal as well – what a good pick on your behalf.’

From Aarya’s consternated expression, Shakti had an inkling that the princess had not expected this whatsoever. Pleasure shot through her at Aarya’s sudden bout of misfortune.

‘Why this sudden concern for little Ashoka, sister?’ Arush asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘I was half-inspired by him, too, you know. He sent me correspondence suggesting I relocate the soldiers in Taksila and replace them with Ridi soldiers at my behest – it seems that they are too many in number there. Rest assured; this change won’t expose us. I don’t see Kalinga attempting to conquer what is unconquered. Do you?’

The princess appeared not to be listening. ‘Ashoka suggested this to you?’ she asked.

‘Are you deaf, sister?’ Arush replied. ‘What exactly is the matter?’

Shakti watched Aarya close her eyes and breathe in deeply. When she reopened them, they were as dull as an unsharpened sword. ‘The mayakari, brother,’ Aarya said. ‘Did you forget them? Those monsters still infest the south, and you wish to halt your attacks?’

The urge to wrap her hands around the princess’s throat was strong enough for Shakti to clench her fists together. Monsters . As if this privileged brat knew anything about her. Had an original thought ever crossed her mind, untainted by Emperor Adil’s words?

‘Temporarily,’ Arush explained. ‘It does not mean that we halt mayakari burnings altogether, sister. People can still report sightings, and soldiers can still investigate. I simply will not have a horde of soldiers blaze through the unconquered lands when they could be sent to the Frozen Lands.’

Hearing the two talk about mayakari like they were nothing more than a rat infestation was bloodcurdling. Shakti realized that she had perhaps become too lax here, had forgotten what kind of power the royal children now wielded. All these talks of expansion and she was forgetting who its victims were.

Aarya, it seemed, was not appeased by this. ‘You are making a mistake,’ she said bluntly. ‘This is not out of respect for father’s provision. You want some sort of glory, some sort of satisfaction for yourself.’

Arush smiled. ‘Yes, little sister,’ he said. ‘It’s called a legacy, and I intend to leave one.’

That night, Shakti stole into Princess Aarya’s dreams.

Dream Aarya sat on the Obsidian Throne. She wore a crown bedazzled with jewels, hewn from gold. Swathes of men and women surrounded her, kneeling respectfully on the floor as she surveyed her subjects.

Shakti could feel Aarya’s desire. This aching, chasmic want for power, to hold onto it indefinitely.

‘We are victorious, Your Highness.’ A faceless advisor approached Aarya and bowed. ‘The mayakari infest this land no longer. They are eradicated. Your father would be proud.’

That last sentence spoke volumes. Shakti could sense the happiness radiating off Aarya like a monstrous wave crashing to the shore.

Her conversation with Emperor Arush must have enraged her enough and made her feel powerless enough to redirect her anger at the mayakari. Only in dreams could the princess get what she wanted.

Not this time , Shakti thought as she crossed into the dream as Emperor Adil. The barrier felt thicker than last time. Heavier, more resistant than Arush’s had been. Once she made sure that her identity had shifted to Adil’s, Shakti called for Aarya.

‘Daughter,’ she said loudly. Aarya turned to her, dark eyes bright.

‘Father!’ she exclaimed, making to sit up from the throne. ‘Father, look! I’ve killed every last mayakari. I’ve accomplished your vision.’

‘I see,’ Shakti said, gesturing around the hall. Here was a child who waited for the parent to burst into tears of pride. ‘You’ve killed hundreds of innocent women, my daughter. Well done.’

Shockingly enough, Aarya didn’t pick up on her derision. She did, however, pounce on one word.

‘Innocent?’ she echoed. ‘They possess power that humans should not. They are a threat to the Ran Empire, father. You taught me that. And have I not proven myself to be a great ruler? Do you not approve?’

Aarya was waiting for it. She was hoping so desperately for the crumbs of approval to fall from Adil’s mouth, and he was only a dream. Shakti smiled inwardly. Her weakness was all too easy to discern.

‘You’re pathetic,’ Shakti said, her voice like thunder. At least Adil’s voice was effective when it needed to be. ‘Sitting on that throne as if you deserve to be. But let me tell you now, daughter, that you will never be enough for the throne. You will never achieve greatness. You are a little girl playing make-believe.’

She watched Aarya’s mouth fall open, her lower lip tremble. Shakti wondered if the golden child had ever received backlash from her father before.

‘Father, I—’

‘Arush,’ Shakti let her voice drip with cruelty. ‘He ought to be where you sit. You say you killed the mayakari? Foolish child, you’re sitting on the graves of your brother’s victories.’

For good measure, she began to laugh in earnest. ‘And Ashoka. Ashoka will surpass you all,’ Shakti continued to laugh, silently praising herself for her acting. ‘He is the terrible. He is the great. But you? You will slip away into the shadows of history, unknown.’

The scene around them started to dull to a pale and furious red. The sound of flutes and horns screeching filled the air in a delicious cacophony. There was no sense of mercy. There was no voice in her head, Jaya’s voice, to remind her that she was wrong. No, that voice was dulled to an undiscernible frequency.

To drive home her verbal assault, to twist the dagger where it was lodged in the proverbial heart, Shakti found herself uttering a dark commandment, unlike that she had asked of Arush.

‘Take a knife in your hands,’ Shakti spat out, ‘and cut yourself, for you deserve to bleed, daughter.’

Aarya’s shrill scream rang in the air as the dream shattered like pieces of glass. Shakti felt a lurch in the pit of her stomach, and in moments was whisked back to the Obsidian Throne where she was met with a still-faced Emperor Ashoka.

‘You hurt Adil’s child,’ was all the emperor said once she fully materialized.

‘That is the least I can do for what Adil did to me and my village,’ Shakti glowered.

His intelligent eyes appraised her as he beckoned her forward.

‘Come. I want to show you a memory,’ said Emperor Ashoka. His glowing brown eyes started to dim as his gaze pinned her own. ‘One I believe to be important.’

‘What—’ Shakti began, before the world was shrouded in darkness, as the emperor and the throne room vanished like smoke. What reappeared was a dark and moonlit night in a wide and spacious building: the Maurya palace.

It was as if she had slipped into a strange dream. She had the distinct feeling that it wasn’t hers, but she was viewing the memory as if it were her own, albeit very distorted. She felt like she was drunk on spirits and had smoked enough opium to kill herself with.

‘Did she name it?’ she heard herself ask. Except, it didn’t sound like her. This voice was a harsh baritone, one she could now discern without fail.

Emperor Adil.

‘It’s a boy,’ a tentative voice replied, but she couldn’t place it. The speaker sounded on the verge of tears. ‘She has named him Ashoka.’

‘ Without sorrow .’ Shakti-as-Adil’s voice had turned as venomous as a viper. She had never felt this much blind hatred.

‘Yes, for she bore him without sorrow,’ said the voice. It lulled for a few moments before it spoke again, albeit tentatively. ‘Would you rather he had died?’

‘ Without question .’

Shakti’s blurred vision disappeared, just as Adil’s final words rang like an echo in her ears. Emperor Ashoka reappeared, lounging on the Obsidian Throne, cognizant eyes watching her with interest.

‘What...’ Shakti felt dizzy as the world around her adjusted to its normal surroundings in The Collective. ‘That was... I was Adil.’

‘Yes.’

‘And he was talking about Ashoka. Prince Ashoka.’

‘Yes.’

‘Why would that be of any importance to me?’ she asked. ‘So, Adil wished his son had never been born. He cannot be the only parent to feel that way about their child, I can tell you that much.’

‘This memory is important,’ Emperor Ashoka said again, just as he glanced up. A peculiar expression crossed his face. ‘Remember that. For now, you must reckon with the consequences of your actions.’

‘Reckon with my actions?’ Shakti echoed, confused. ‘What are you—’

Strangely enough, she could hear a bell. One ring after a five-beat interval, repeatedly. In front of her, Emperor Ashoka turned grey. She felt disconnected, then, as if not properly tethered to The Collective. The bell continued to chime until she realized what was happening.

‘Wake,’ the emperor whispered before he vanished.

Wake, little bird.

Shakti gasped as she opened her eyes and sat up on her bed, breathing hard and fast like she had been starved of air. That aggressive bell continued to ring, the sound reverberating through the stone walls. Outside her door, she could hear voices. Multiple. They sounded concerned. Fearful.

Blinking furiously, she swung open her bedroom door to see utter chaos.

Palace staff rushed through the corridors of their sleeping quarters. They were headed back upstairs, she noted. What was going on?

She managed to grab the elbow of an older man who was speeding past her. ‘What’s the commotion about?’ she asked.

The man’s expression was inscrutable. ‘Some of the staff had to rush to the northern chamber, along with the physicians,’ he said as his eyes assessed Shakti. ‘Princess Aarya has been injured.’

Shakti felt herself still.

‘How?’ she asked.

The older man winced. ‘I heard she woke up screaming nonsense, and then proceeded to slash her arms with a ceremonial knife.’

‘What?’

Cut yourself, for you deserve to bleed, daughter .

Her commandment echoed in her head. It had been intended as a cruel jab, a thorn meant to prick the recesses of the princess’s mind. A small act of psychological warfare. She couldn’t have imagined that Aarya would take it as a decree.

Shakti knew without question that this was her doing. She had not just influenced a mind – she had managed to translate a hellish order into reality.

‘One child wasting soldiers in the north, the other going mad from grief,’ the old man replied nervously. ‘Spirits know what’s happening to Emperor Adil’s children.’

‘Do you happen to know what she said?’ she pressed. ‘The nonsense?’

The man was silent for several beats before he spoke. ‘Apparently, she was screaming Emperor Adil’s name,’ he replied sombrely. ‘As if it was a curse to end her very existence.’