Page 149 of Her Soul for a Crown
“But if you unlock the doors for us to pass between paintings, what will stop us from being lost now?”
“He’s the prophet,” Premala said. “You can lead us through, can’t you?”
Prophet Revantha rubbed his neck. “It is true that I see the cosmos when I meditate—it’s what we are taught and why we’re chosen as acolytes. Yet, despite years of trial, none have been able to map it. The cosmos is vast and ever-changing. Even the prophets are warned against walking.”
Anula shut her eyes. Perhaps it was too dangerous for all of them to go through, but perhaps not for one. After all, it was she who knew where the ingredients were hidden in the raja’s chamber,she who knew how to mix and serve. Perhaps only she must take the risk and act.
“I will lead you through,” Fate said. Anula blanched.
“Then it’s settled.” Bithul clapped his hands. “We take back the throne, take back our kingdom.”
Sandani tugged on Premala’s arm. “The Kattadiya will be needed, to help those injured.”
“But we have no guruthuma.”
Sandani leveled a gaze.
Premala squeaked. “Me?”
“You saved me at the expense of yourself.” Sandani turned to the others. “What more could we want from a guruthuma?”
“But…”
“Guruthuma Premala,” one Kattadiya said. Then another, and another.
“Kattadiya do not act for themselves,” Sandani quoted. “Only for the protection of others. You are a true Kattadiya. A true guruthuma.”
Flushed, Premala’s hands twitched, her lips slid between her teeth—but instead of the wringing and biting, she squared her shoulders and took a breath. “Thank you for choosing me, for always accepting me, even when I couldn’t. I will always choose you, too, along with our people, the way Guruthuma Thilini taught.” She turned to Anula. “We’re with you, Raejina Consort.”
Anula scoffed. “First of all, friends refer to each other by first names. Second, I am no longer a consort.” She ignored the squeeze that brought to her heart.
“No,” Premala agreed. “You’re going to be the first raejina.”
“No,” Anula snapped. She rubbed her eyes, then softened her voice. “I don’t want it.”
“A wise leader knows when to share the brunt of a burden,” Fate said. “I never said you must act alone, Anula. Share yourvision and your dream.”
“But you said only I can accomplish my dreams.”
“Only you can spark the flame of your dreams, yet it takes a village to see them through.”
The words settled warmly on Anula’s arms, like a blanket on the coolest nights. And yet an itch bloomed. At her wrists first, then all the way up her neck. She was Anula of Anuradhapura. This was her kingdom. These were her people.
And that was important.
“I want to help,” she said. “But I won’t be another usurper. That Age ends now. A new Age begins.”
“Then go as a soldier,” Bithul said. “Fight for your kingdom, as I will.”
The guards exchanged glances, moved to flank their trainer. In unison, they said, “As we will.”
The Kattadiya picked up the anthem, Premala the loudest, and with all the people free from capture cantillating last, an army amassed. It lifted Anula, buoyed her soul, and she remembered who she wanted to be, who she wanted to be that person for, and what she could do.
An army needed weapons.
Herweapons.
Anula nodded, turning to Fate. “Let’s begin.”
