Page 89 of Her Soul for a Crown
Ally.
Is that what they were?
Yet as he reached out his hand to graze her fingers, she pulled back.
“One more thing. You must promise to take a tincture I give you.”
“Do you always poison your allies?”
“Not poison. A tincture. To fight off the dreams.” She huffed. “I can’t stand looking at those bags under your eyes. You won’t guilt me into staying up all night to keep them away either. I can’t afford to lose sleep. Do you know what stories they’ll tell if the first raejina looks haggard in all her portraits?”
“All right,” Reeri said, soul stirring. She had noticed his lack of sleep, the reason behind it. Mayhap she would soon see him. “Tinctures for the death of Wessamony.”
Anula smiled, not sardonically, but with purpose and passion. She grasped his hand, their palms warm and firm, intentions clear. Each an echo of the other.
Both no longer alone.
Part Three
34
“This will be the last time,” Anula said, tightening her sari as she led Kama and Bithul through the Pleasure Gardens to the Kattadiya cave entrance.
The truth about the day she’d lost everything rattled her bones. Wessamony was the culprit. The three names at the top of her list were mere pawns. Selfish and guilty for the parts they’d played, yes, but pawns. A new name was atop her list now, and the only way to bring him to justice was through Reeri. With him, her bargain would be complete and so would her purpose. She’d punish the one responsible for Thaththa’s and Amma’s deaths, while taking the throne to lead Anuradhapura as the first raejina, marking the end of the Age of Usurpers and initiating a new age for peace and protection for all people, as Auntie Nirma had wanted.
Anula had no need of the Kattadiya now. Returning to the caves any longer would waste precious time. The Festival of the Cosmos was in a week and a half, starting with the day of the Maha Equinox.
To think she’d gone so long without knowing the truth, thatshe and the Yakkas sought the same thing. Her palm tingled, directly where Reeri had shaken her hand when they became allies. His grip was strong and callused. A worker’s hand. Nothing like she’d expected. Nothing about Reeri was, not even the shadow that hovered behind his stolen eyes. She’d half expected for it to appear, like smoke sliding through fabric, twining along her fingers, grasping her the way it had in the shrine with their first bargain. Instead she’d seen his thoughts, his idea that they were both defenders of their families.
She’d eyed him, his broad frame and soft muscle covered in dark curly hair that ran from chest to knuckle. She hadn’t forgotten that Kama said this body resembled Reeri’s true form. Nor had she forgotten his shadow: the square jaw and full lips, the softness, even in wisps. Only the saffron eyes were missing. When would she look into those again?
“If this is the last time we jaunt together,” Kama said, trailing her fingers through flower bushes, “I shall receive my heart soon, yes?”
Anula blinked back the nonsensical thoughts. “Yes.”
“Do you have someone in mind?”
Bithul flicked her a questioning gaze. She ignored it. “Don’t worry. My list of enemies seems as fertile as these gardens—a new bloom every day. You’ll have your heart.”
Kama pouted. “You mean thatyoushall have their heart.”
“What?”
Kama pressed a finger on Anula’s chest, drew a circle, as if carving out her heart. “You must take it and offer it to me. Alive and beating.”
Bithul gaped. Anula’s mouth dried. “And you wonder why people fear you?”
Kama smiled. “Sheer the skin, break the bone, and hull the heart. So…what’s their name?”
“Does it matter?”
“Why would a name not matter, when a life does?”
Before, Anula would have bristled, judged her not as the Yakka of Lust but of Bloodlust. But now…they shared one enemy. Why not two?
“Dilshan,” Anula answered. She paused at the bush where they usually split off. “His name is Dilshan.”
Bithul frowned. She ignored that look, too, and dove into the brush.
