Page 39 of The Prince Without Sorrow

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Ashoka

S HIELDING HIS EYES FROM THE AFTERNOON SUN, A SHOKA returned to the royal estate on Sahry after flying Naila and Nayani back to the razed lands. They’d agreed to meet him the next day with a handful more mayakari in front of his father’s statue to undo Usra’s curse. He didn’t want to dally any longer now that they had found an answer. Once the Great Spirits were pacified, his main concern was resolved, and he needed to move towards deposing Governor Kosala without killing him.

Stupid boy. Violence comes easier than any convoluted plan you will think of.

When he entered his study, Ashoka found that he couldn’t breathe. It was not due to his father’s voice, but rather from the intimately recognizable pair of broadswords that sat atop his table.

Suddenly, a pair of arms latched around his neck and Ashoka was pushed headfirst onto the ground as the intruder gave the back of his knees a swift kick. The unexpected attack caught him off-guard, but only for a split second. Before his stomach hit the ground, Ashoka’s training came rushing back and he swivelled around with just enough time to grip onto the muscled arms with as much force as he could muster. His eyes found a pair of familiar umber ones shining in the light that filtered through the windows, and he felt his grip loosen immediately.

Rahil.

Was he dreaming?

‘You’re here,’ Ashoka said, feeling idiotic.

Rahil’s smirk played across his heartstrings. ‘I’m here,’ he said.

Blood and heat were rushing everywhere as Ashoka felt his heartbeat pound in a way that he’d never noticed before. He’d dreamed of Rahil for what had felt like aeons, felt the pangs of loneliness at the distance between them. Now, here he was, so close that he could just—

Just what?

The answer came rushing at him like a heatwave. This had not been a loneliness born from being apart from someone he considered family. This was lovesickness.

Rahil was so close that he could just kiss him.

The realization hit Ashoka harder than he expected.

There it was – the reason a part of him had felt so impossibly alone without Rahil. Spirits knew if Rahil had ever reciprocated his feelings. Ashoka was too scared to ask. He wasn’t like Arush, who was confident of himself. He wasn’t like Aarya, who made her feelings as clear as glass to the men or women she desired.

The thought of ever asking Rahil only for him to say that he did not return his feelings was too unpalatable. Not taking a chance was better than taking one that ultimately led to failure. At this point, their friendship was far more important than his feelings.

‘When did you arrive?’ The voice was his, and he very much wanted to kick himself. Rampant emotions like this needed to be controlled. He could never, he would never. At every possible moment of expectation and longing, he would pull himself away. It was one of most cruel forms of self-inflicted torture imaginable, but he had to.

The moment lingered in the air as Rahil let him go, pushing himself up before pulling Ashoka with him.

‘An hour ago,’ Rahil said nonchalantly. ‘But I was informed that the prince was out on official business. Were you trying to expand the irrigation system here, or something as equally yawn-inducing?’

‘I returned from the razed lands,’ he told Rahil nervously. ‘We finally found out why the Great Spirits were destroying it.’

‘We?’ Rahil raised a curious eyebrow. Ashoka quickly informed him of the events that had transpired mere hours ago.

‘I’m glad that the mayakari were able to aid you,’ Rahil said appreciatively, but he seemed rather doubtful. ‘And they trusted you, too? That’s surprising.’

‘I found a way to earn their trust.’

Rahil’s lips quirked up into a wry smile. ‘Through successful diplomatic relations?’ he asked, teasing.

Sighing, Ashoka picked at his ear. ‘Through a promise,’ he replied. ‘To cease mayakari killings in Taksila.’

He stilled as Rahil reached out a hand to ruffle his hair and said, ‘To think Arush doubted you.’

‘I doubt myself,’ Ashoka said. Admitting it aloud seemed like a weight off his shoulders. Admitting it to Rahil eased his conscience even more. ‘Don’t forget the governor. With him present, my hands are tied. Any semblance of sympathy for the mayakari enshrined into law will be repealed. Realistically, there is only one way to achieve their request.’

‘Which is...?’

‘A murder,’ Ashoka replied.

For a split second, Rahil’s expression became endearingly confused.

‘Murder?’ Rahil narrowed his eyes. ‘ Killing murder? Or are you talking about a murder of crows?’

‘What about this conversation makes you think I’d be talking about a murder of crows?’

‘It makes more sense than you considering killing someone,’ Rahil said, crossing his arms defensively.

‘It wasn’t my initial idea,’ Ashoka said. His whole body was tense. ‘One of the mayakari inferred it to me and – what?’

Rahil’s whole posture had gone rigid, as if he had just heard something truly unbelievable. Something in his eyes shifted, as if he were watching Ashoka in a way that he hadn’t seen before.

‘A mayakari asked you to do this, and you’re considering it?’ he asked slowly. Ashoka knew that he found both statements to be contradictory.

‘It’s a matter for later,’ he said. ‘First, the Great Spirits need to be pacified.’

‘You’re hedging, and you know it,’ Rahil pointed out. ‘Once that is done, it leaves you with the governor and a promise you made. What will you do then?’

Ashoka wanted to argue. Wanted to respond with a clever idea in which he could achieve his promise without murder, but he couldn’t. Mind blank, the only thing that reverberated was that insistent voice in his head; himself and not himself all at once:

To bring about peace, you must enact justice in whatever form it requires , it purred. You think yourself to be above your father, but let me tell you otherwise, little prince. When you have the power to change the world for the better, your duty to the weak must override your duty to the self.