The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen #3)

Indah’s golden eyes reflect her worry. “I’ll find you a more experienced healer in Lestari. In the meantime, save your strength and powers.”

I have had no need to call upon my Burner abilities since I battled the Voider. But what will happen when I need them? I suspend my concerns. We are nearly to Lestari, the imperial city of the Southern Isles. I can hang on until we arrive tonight.

Pushing to my feet, I test my weight on my bad leg; no pain hisses at me. Indah offers me her arm, but I pick up my cane. “I’ll be all right on my own.”

I shuffle out the door, mindful of the gentle sway of the ship. Several steps later, I rest in a sunny patch of deck. The brightness warms my skin, but the inner hoarfrost will not yield.

“Does Indah know you’re out here alone?”

I swivel toward Natesa and link my arm through hers. “I’m not alone. You’re here.”

“Let’s walk.” She tugs me from the banister, and we stroll around the outer deck. Her hips swish, swinging her braid like a pendulum, though not on purpose. Natesa cannot suppress her curves any more than I can change my skinniness.

As former rivals in my rank tournament among the rajah’s wives and courtesans, for a time we could not stand each other. Natesa and my other competitors fought to gain a better life in this world of men. Only I won the rank tournament. My second victory in Iresh’s trial tournament secured my throne as rani of the Tarachand Empire. I competed against four female bhutas in a series of contests designed to test our powers. My prize is to wed Prince Ashwin as his first wife, his kindred. I respect Ashwin, but marriage to him hardly feels like a reward.

“The prince left rather quickly after the burial,” Natesa notes.

“He’s avoiding me.”

“He’s avoiding Deven. Did he tell you about their altercation?”

“No . . .”

Natesa’s lips twist wryly. “Right after we left Iresh, Deven struck Ashwin and nearly threw him overboard.”

Gods help me. As captain of the guard, Deven’s duty is to protect the prince, but he blames Ashwin for unleashing the Voider. The demon came disguised in the physical form of Ashwin’s father and my deceased husband, Rajah Tarek. For releasing him, the Voider must grant Ashwin his heart’s wish—to unseat the bhuta warlord from the Turquoise Palace in our imperial city of Vanhi.

The demon rajah has set out to do just that. He delivered our people from the awful encampments in Iresh, earning their devotion while preying on their suffering. Our army intends to march with the Voider to far-off Vanhi. The rest of Tarek’s wives and his courtesans are trapped there; my friends and fellow sister warriors, held captive by the warlord and his band of rebels. I want to see the ranis released, but the demon rajah cannot be allowed to overthrow the warlord. If he succeeds, he will be free to inflict terror on our world.

“I’ve tried to explain,” I say, “but Deven won’t listen.”

“Maybe he’s right to be angry.” Natesa’s gaze wanders to the river. “Even Brother Shaan feared our fate.”

Unfortunately the loss of Brother Shaan is another tragedy for Deven to blame on the prince. “Ashwin couldn’t have known that the demon would disguise himself as Tarek and convince our people he’s their rajah.”

We round the stern of the boat and nearly bump into the prince. He holds an open book, appearing as he did when we first met. Only, this time, I do not mistake him for his father. Ashwin may possess Tarek’s compelling good looks, but he is kindhearted. From his wounded expression, he overheard our conversation.

“Your Majesty,” Natesa says, bowing. “We didn’t see you there.”

“Clearly.” He snaps his book shut. “I’ll go around.”

He starts to pass, but I loop my arm through his. “Walk with me?”

Ashwin slowly pivots and rubs the side of his head as though massaging a headache. I tug him forward, and Natesa gladly goes, leaving the other direction.

“How have you been?” I ask the prince.

“Well, thank you.” His perfunctory answer quiets me. The clack of my cane on the wooden deck is the only noise between us. I have nearly given up on a conversation when he asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Indah said I should be walking on my own soon.”

He nods but says no more. I long for the easiness we once had between us. In Iresh, while Deven was imprisoned in the military encampment, Ashwin and I learned to trust each other. I still wear the brass wrist cuff he lent me for good luck before my final trial. Ashwin is my cousin and only living family. Dissolving his friendship is a loss I cannot sustain.

I stop, halting him. “What can I do to fix this? The awkwardness between us is unbearable.”

“You know what I want.” He looks everywhere but at me. “I can repeat my wishes if you’d like, but I will keep my word. You won the trial tournament and have no further obligation to me or your throne.”

“Do you really think I’d abandon you?”

His brow creases. “I thought now that Captain Naik has returned—”

“The Tarachand Empire is my home too. Our people have been deceived by the demon rajah. He’s marching upon our palace with our army, where my fellow ranis are held captive by the warlord. I’m with you, Ashwin. Perhaps not the way you hoped, but we’ll confront the demon rajah together.”

His lips twitch, withholding a smile. “Understood, Kindred.”

I pull him forward, and he keeps up, relaxing into my side. “Where did you find your book?” I ask of the text under his other arm.

“I stuffed it under my shirt before I left Iresh.”

My gaze flies to his. “You did not.”

“I did. I saw it on the ground and grabbed it.”

Ashwin has read more books than anyone I have met. “Is it any good?”

“Dull as a cow’s nose. On the upside, I learned how to sew a turban.” He shows me the title. A Seamstress’s Guide to Men’s Attire. A laugh erupts out of me. He chuckles quietly, his shoulders shaking.

I sober some, questioning the appropriateness of our humor just hours after Brother Shaan was laid to rest. But Brother Shaan believed all children of Anu, bhutas and mortals, should dwell in harmony. He would like for Ashwin and me to make amends.

We reach the unoccupied bow. Past it, blue sky yawns above the water and mangroves. A breeze tousles Ashwin’s short ebony hair. I rest on the wide ridge near the rail, winded from my short jaunt.

“Can I escort you back to the wheelhouse?” he asks.

“I’ll stay here awhile.” Ashwin does not sit, nor does he leave. His indecision about our closeness exasperates me. I have missed him, but the sentiment clings to my tongue. He may interpret my feelings differently than I intend. “Thank you for the stroll.”

He hesitates, all seriousness. “I’m going to regain the empire, Kalinda.”