Page 37 of Damned and Broken Gods
“Yes, essentially. Show them you understand this world and the etiquette, that you respect the order and want only to help enforce it. Make them believe they can control you.” He looked to Araz. “As Leela’s drohi, you will stay close by her side.”
“Do you believe her life may be in danger?” Araz asked.
“I can’t rule it out. Leela, your existence has shaken the very fabric of our world.”
“Butyoubelieve in me? You think I can be a queen.”
He pushed back his chair and stood. “I think it’s time for change.” He clipped toward the door. “Erabi will be along shortly with appropriate attire for the events, and Leela, when you see me later, you may address me as Chandra.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “A subtle indication of your status and our royal blood bond.” He swept out of the building, leaving silence in his wake.
I twisted in my seat to face Araz. “You think all Asura are scum, but Guru Chandrawantschange. I’d have an ally in him.”
Araz picked up the teapot and poured himself a cup. “Eat. Erabi will be here soon.”
He clearly didn’t want to talk about the future and pushing him would do no good. That much I was sure of.
It was past midday,lunch had been eaten, and I was beginning to get antsy. Chandra hadn’t said we couldn’t leave the guest house, but then he hadn’t said we should, either, and knowing that I was here as some kind of test made me wary of stepping out too soon in case I fucked it up.
By the time Erabi arrived in a whirlwind of gossamer wings, dragging a large trunk on wheels, I was ready to climb the walls.
“Happy high sun,” she trilled, gliding into the sitting room and dropping the trunk. “Did you have a good morning?”
“It was…uneventful.” I joined her in the main space, eyeing up the trunk. “What’s inside?”
“Oooh, you are going to love this.” She unlatched the case and lifted the lid to reveal reams and reams of colorful fabrics. “Dresses!”
“Um…Okay…”
She frowned. “You don’t like dresses?”
“I do, but…Wait, are those for me?”
“Of course they are. Why would I drag them all the way—” She waved a hand, cutting herself off. “Never mind. Look at all the pretty things.”
Of course the dresses were for me. A banquet required the proper attire. It had been a while since I’d dressed up for anything, and Erabi’s enthusiasm was infectious. Teeny bubbles of excitement simmered in my belly. It must have shown on my face because Erabi beamed up at me.
“That’s more like it.” She started scooping clothes out of the trunk and laying them on the sofas and chaises.
The outfits weren’t dresses; these were flowy, heavy, beaded, and sequined skirts with fitted tunic tops, corsets, or belly revealing sequined crop tops. Each came with silken shawls or spider silk scarves. I’d never worn anything like these, but I’d seen others in the Indian community wear similar outfits to functions and events. Back home, we called these lehengas.
I reached for the nearest one, running my fingers over the fabric to trace the intricate embroidery and beadwork.
“Gold would look good with your coloring,” Erabi said. “Or something darker, like this midnight blue? Yes, gold is a royal color, and we don’t want anyone to think you’re being presumptuous.”
“How can she be presumptuous when sheisroyal?” Araz pointed out.
Erabi shot him a glare. “Well, of course she’s royal, but we need to show that she isn’t greedy about it.”
That was quite insightful for someone who’d seemed clueless yesterday.
She shrugged and looked away. “That’s what Chandra says. I just follow orders. And don’t worry, Araz, I haven’t forgotten you. We have something perfect for you here.” She shiftedthrough the trunk and pulled out a midnight blue tunic embroidered with silver thread at the cuff and collar, the material shimmering as if sewn with starlight. “The pants are plain, so it won’t look overly extravagant, just enough to fit in.” She tugged out a pair of flat shoes, silver and embroidered, the toe pointed and curling upward a little. Mojari shoes.
Araz’s jaw flexed as he studied the outfit, a far cry from anything he owned, and probably from anything he’d ever been permitted to wear. My stomach knotted. Because once again, he’d be forced to perform, to be paraded. To be someone he wasn’t.
I hated this for him.
“Does he have to wear these clothes?”
“Do you want him to come with you to the banquet?” she shot back.
