Page 97 of Her Soul for a Crown
“Do you trust me?”
“As far as a chicken can throw an elephant.”
“Will you try, once?”
Agitation skittered up her arms. “He’s—”
“On your list,” Reeri finished. “I know. I am not telling you to leave him alone, only asking that you wait, and trust me.”
Every muscle flinched. She trusted him with Wessamony, because she trusted his hatred, but this? It might be her only chance. “Why?”
“Because I want to help you.”
Anula startled. Not at the words but how they sang with truth, how she heard it as surely as a bulbul’s song. It swelled in her chest, tilting her off guard, and she almost didn’t hear herself say, “All right.”
***
For an hour, Anula tried and failed to avoid thinking about Reeri, about the ease with which he had convinced her to stay, the feeling he’d stirred up—the want for her old dream—and what that said about her, about him, about them. Not even summoning Premala to deliver her morning meal could fully pull her from her thoughts.
Anula thought Premala would like it, seeing all the gifts from those she venerated most, but she quaked the moment she stepped into the bedchamber, half the tray’s food tumbling to the floor. She peered around vases and jumped at the sound of the wind as if the terrible Yakkas would spring out and eat her.
“Tell me, how did a girl from a fishing village become a—” The word choked. Anula flicked at the kiribath. “Cursed blessings, I can’t even say it to you?”
“Not outside the caves. It’s for protection, yours and ours, my raejina consort.” Premala checked a shudder. “If the Yakkas were to find out, they’d kill us all.”
That feeling rose again, this time with a sea of questions. Namely, why she’d bent beneath it, why it had felt so familiar and yet so foreign, why she wanted Reeri to come back and explain himself. Why she was afraid if he did. She murmured into her food, “You don’t know that.”
The chamber door slammed open, cutting off the argument poised on Premala’s lips.
“The commander awaits you in the administration building,” Reeri said, skidding to a stop at the sight of the maid.
Premala squeaked, fear flaring in her eyes as she took in the raja. Clearly, she believed her own theory. She bowed and fled before Reeri had a chance to give her an order. Perhaps terrified it would have to do with the Yakkas. The girl needed to find her backbone if Anula was to save her from the Kattadiya. Though prying her out of the caves one-handed would work, too. But that was a problem for another day. Today, there was Dilshan. He had returned to her city and was waiting for her. Because of Reeri.
“Why?” Anula stood, finally asking aloud what she’d chewed on for hours.
“He is a man who bargained to allow an entire village to perish,” Reeri said, meeting her gaze. “He must stand trial and face the consequences of his actions. I have set it up for you to be his judge and juror.”
Anula quirked a brow. “I thought you didn’t want me to be a murderess.”
Reeri’s lips pressed tight, and she saw it in his eyes, the same thing she had seen when they touched this morning: a dream of connection.
Anula swallowed.
“I understand that you want to change your kingdom for the better,” he said. “Though for what it is worth, mayhap it is best if you deal with him differently than you did Prophet Ayaan.”
Anula stepped back. This didn’t feel like a connection, but more…it felt like caring. She should decline, draw a line.
But it was Commander Dilshan: the first voice she’d heard after Amma’s screams had died in her ears, and now the second name on her list. His heart was promised to Kama for the sake of the Yakkas. His death would lead directly to Wessamony’s.
Stepping around the back of the table, she gave Reeri a wide berth. “You’re giving him to me for free, no bartering?”
Reeri dropped his chin. “The fastest way to earn trust is to prove myself trustworthy.”
She grabbed a knife on display. Perhaps Reeri only did this for the bargain and she was reading too far into a feeling.
Reeri cleared his throat. “If I were to ask you a question, would you answer it, with no bartering?”
“Depends on the question.”
