Page 116 of Her Soul for a Crown
Reeri nodded to the front of the parade. Instead of ending at the gates, it continued on to a hill and a grave, bodies prostrate amid a bed of flowers. The petals drifted on the wind. They caught in circles atop each person’s head. A crown for every member of the kingdom.
“True balance is an unending connection. A circle with no beginning and no end. All exists together, at the same time. Kama was not wrong when she said passion and pain were one. And neither was Wessamony when he said we had unbalanced thecosmos. For if one hole punctures a water tank, will not the entire thing drain?”
Anula watched the procession, saw the way the traditions of her people wove in and out of Reeri’s narrative. Was this what the Yakkas and the Divinities had intended all along? Perhaps the festival and the blessed gifts were meant to remind humanity of a time before the banishment, before the Kattadiya, before jealousy and greed took precedence over peace and oneness.
“It’s nice,” she whispered, a flower resting on her head.
“Yes,” Reeri whispered, too, taking the bloom in his hand. “I miss it. I am grateful it exists, if only in this form.”
“Sohon was right: all art transports us.” Anula plucked a petal from his curls. “You’ll have this again.”
“Fate willing.”
Anula snorted. “Was that a jest?”
“I would never.” But his lips twitched at the edge. Anula’s heart fluttered.
“And what about me? What will happen to my soul when our bargain is complete and Wessamony is dead?”
Reeri frowned. “I am not entirely sure.”
“My auntie used to say that we only understand a quarter of what the Heavens are capable of.”
“A wise woman,” he murmured, then regarded her. “I may not know the specifics, but I promise to be next to you when it happens.”
Anula met his gaze. A quiet, heavy moment slipped between them. Singing crested the hill. Reeri closed his eyes, tapped his foot, and hummed along.
“You know this song?”
“It is as old as I am. Though they do not dance the same anymore.”
“Youdanced?”
Reeri’s eyes flashed open. A hint of saffron blazing, smoldering out as his throat bobbed. Then he reached out and grabbed her hand. He spun her out and back in, twirling her up against his chest.
His heart beat erratically.
His breaths came heavy and fast.
Reeri tucked the flower behind her ear, and she saw it, what they were both thinking of: The press of his body against hers, their lips crushing into each other’s, their mouths exploring. A kiss, fast and deep and long.
It tingled up Anula’s spine, blazed in her belly, and she squeezed his hand tight. But still, she yearned for more. More of him, his mouth, his hands, his everything, everywhere. She drowned in the want. Perhaps she could make another bargain after this one. Ask him to stay. Ask him to be by her side as she ruled by day and in her bedchamber by night.
She flushed at the idea that she had ever seen Reeri as anything other than what he was. For ever making a deal with the Kattadiya and putting him in danger…all for a crown.
Vengeance had ruled her heart once. But now—
“We cannot,” he growled, even as he pulled her closer and their dancing turned to a slow sway, his fingers twining into hers.
“I know.”
“But I—”
“Me too.”
“You cannot dance here alone,” a voice called.
They jolted, breaking apart. Heart hammering, Anula glanced up into the too-long, too-sharp features of a cosmic being. One she actually recognized.
