Page 45 of Her Soul for a Crown
As ministers and courtiers streamed in and out of the palace, typical of any day, a group of women paused as she passed. Sharp eyes took in Anula’s darkened mehendhi; sharper tongues clucked at her tight sari. They bowed in shallow respect.
“The statues do not speak of her reign,” one whispered. “Come, let’s not waste our time with one whose fortune will fall.”
They flitted away as Anula took the stairs. Clay pots lined the walkway, bright blue hues darkening to black with each step. If she were a true believer, the woman’s words might instill fear. She’d wonder at her future, at the outcome of Auntie Nirma’s plans. But if the statues could foresee the lives of rulers, then usurpers wouldn’t be a problem. Clearly, the blessed gifts were not all they were rumored to be.
The doors opened, and Anula brushed the gossip off her shoulders, trampling it on her way inside. Auntie Nirma’s allies had mapped out these rooms, explaining who met where and when. Information the first ruling raejina would need. She knew exactly which door to aim for, what she might encounter on her way.
First were the guards. Though they bowed fealty, their gazes lingered curiously on her curves, suspiciously at her appearance. This was not known as a place for women. Yet all apprehension vanished when they noticed the iron rhythm behind her. The sight of Bithul drew straight backs. Anula tucked the information away for later.
She arrived at the largest set of wooden doors, and a guard looked questioningly down at her. The tether jerked, a warning of her distance. She yanked back on it, a horse gaining its head. The Blood Yakka had admitted he didn’t know everything about the tether. Perhaps she could control it.
Holding it firmly in place, she smiled sweetly. “I’m here to speak with the board of ministers. Please announce me.”
The guard blanched. “Raejina Consort, they’re in a closed meeting.”
“Please announce me,” Anula repeated, sure to keep the gentleness in her features. A soft word did more to move a cow, as the palace cook had said.
“The ministers don’t like to be interrupted.”
“I’m not interested in what they like.”
He flicked helpless eyes to Bithul. Whatever signal Bithul gave jolted the guard into action. He slipped inside the room.
Anula gazed over her shoulder. “Interesting.”
Bithul merely grunted.
“Apologies, my raejina consort.” The guard returned. “The ministers are indisposed. They can’t allow an audience right now.”
“Allow?” Anula’s smile fell. “I didn’t ask for permission.”
She might be stopped by a Yakka, but not by a guard. Not now. Throwing an elbow, she rushed the door and flung it open.
“Raejina—” Bithul caught the guard as he sank, one arm reaching for her. It was too late.
“Ministers!” she shouted, entering the wide, open room. Latticed windows cast seven men in broken light. “How kind of you to receive me on such short notice.”
They shifted and puffed. Naina Wijetunga, the chief minister, stood. Her words hung in the air, a challenge and a charge. Bithul rushed in, but Naina raised a hand.
“Raejina Consort.” His husky voice was displeased. “What a surprise to see youhere.”
Inflection weighed heavy on his last word. Anula sauntered closer, eyeing the men around him. A hand glided along her necklace, but she knew nothing there would help. Though the seeds for the persuasion tincture could be found in the Pleasure Gardens, the rest of the ingredients hailed only from Kekirawa. Auntie Nirma was supposed to bring seedlings to plant, but if shehad, Anula never received them. She’d have to do this without poisoncraft, her new title her only aid.
An itch began at her wrist. “I won’t take up too much of your time. I only wanted to bring something to your attention.”
“Your mere presence takes up our time, dear.” Naina took off his glasses. “We do not hold court for wives.”
A murmur of agreement flowed down the table.
Anula laughed unamusingly. “I’m no mere wife.”
“Yet you are neither the raja nor a minister. We have a great duty to Anuradhapura, which is why we are selective in our meetings. If we met with every person who wished to bring something to our attention, the kingdom would fall to chaos.”
Anula’s nostrils flared. The itch traveled up her arm. “Even if a mere wife had information about a corrupt and traitorous minister?”
Six pairs of eyes widened.
“Would you not want to learn about the man who wields his power wrongly over the people of the kingdom that you are bound to protect? A tax collector who demands double pay, in order to pocket a profit, and sells those who come up short into indentured servitude? Would you meet with a wife then?” Irritation skittered along her arms, burrowed deep. Or was that the tether? She ignored it and pressed on. Anuradhapura’s chief tax collector had come to Auntie Nirma’s awareness years ago. His was the fourth name on their list. “If our chief tax collector was using the sale of servants to also sell secrets to the Polonnaruwa Kingdom, would you meet then?”
