Page 45 of The Promised Queen
I look at her. At the warmth in her eyes, at the patience she always extends even when she doesn’t realize it. And I know there is no way to soften this, no words to make it less cruel. So I give it to her plain, as it was given to me.
“It was Rajmata,” I say, voice low, roughened by the hours I’ve carried it. “She was the one who leaked the articles. The one who planted that edited photograph in the media.”
Her eyes widen, her lips part. For a moment, she’s utterly still, like her breath has been stolen. And then she blinks slowly, once, as if she’s not surprised.
“You knew,” I murmur, reading the flicker of recognition in her.
“Not knew,” she says carefully. “But I thought. She never hid her dislike for me. It wasn’t hard to imagine.”
Her calm stings more than her outrage would have. I want her to rage, to curse, to tell me to burn it all down for her. But she sits here, composed, as though she already made peace with my mother’s cruelty.
“I cannot decide,” I confess, my voice breaking for the first time. “You are the one wronged, Meher. If there is punishment, it should come from you.”
Her brows draw together, her voice trembling as she says, “I can’t do that, Raja-sa.”
Something inside me crumbles. I don’t want her to carry this weight, but I don’t trust myself to carry it either. My body moves before my mind does—I lean back, lying down against the bed, my head finding her lap. She gasps softly, startled, but I close my eyes, whispering, “Just two minutes, Meher. I am tired.”
Her breath is uneven above me. I laugh without humor, finding nothing funny in this night, yet unable to stop the sound. And then I feel it—her hand, tentative at first, sliding into my hair, stroking it gently. The smallest comfort, and yet it undoes me.
I open my eyes, tilt my head slightly, and find her watching me. Her gaze is steady, questioning, achingly tender.
“What have I ever done,” I ask her quietly, “to make her always look down at me, Meher?” My throat tightens. The ceiling blurs. “Why can’t she let me live in peace?” She doesn’t answer right away. Then she smiles sadly, her fingers never pausing in my hair. “Am I that much of a disappointment, Meher?”
She exhales slowly, her eyes softening. “All my life,” she begins, “I have only met people who disappointed me.” She chuckles lightly, without bitterness. “Maa and Dadi, because they left too soon. Papa, because instead of him taking care of me, I was always the one taking care of him.” Her hand presses lightly against my temple, steady, warm. “So I say this from experience—you are the only one in my entire life who has never disappointed me, Raja-sa. Even when I thought you would. Even when there were always chances. You never did. So no, you will not call yourself a disappointment in front of me.”
Something swells in my chest—so sharp it hurts, so vast it feels like it could undo me entirely. This woman, who has known nothing but loss and betrayal, calls me her one exception. Her only certainty. And in this moment, I want to believe her more than I have ever wanted anything.
I close my eyes briefly, inhaling deeply, steadying myself.Please help me, Meher,I plead silently.Help me come to a decision, because I am lost.
“Let her go,” she whispers.
My eyes snap open, startled.
“She may not have been a mother to you,” Meher continues softly, “but she has been good to your siblings. I’ve seen it. She loves them. And sometimes that is enough.” She smiles faintly, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Besides, it is always said—forgiveness is the biggest punishment.”
I look at her then, really look. This woman who has borne the brunt of my mother’s cruelty, who should be demanding justice, demanding retribution. And yet here she is, offering grace I cannot fathom for the sake of others. For the sake of family. For the sake of me.
And she says she is not fit to be queen.
A laugh breaks out of me, soft and disbelieving. I sit up, turn to her, unable to stop myself from cupping her cheek. “Rani-sa,” I murmur, the title slipping naturally, reverently. I kiss her cheek once, then her forehead, lingering there. “Thank you for showing me the right direction.”
When I pull back, she’s looking at me with that same steady gaze that makes me feel both stripped bare and whole again. Mychest tightens, but this time it isn’t painful. It’s something else entirely.
I smile, the kind of smile that feels rare, unpracticed. “Thank you, Meher.”
And for the first time tonight, I breathe easier.
CHAPTER 35
A Queen’s Verdict
MEHER
The heavy doors of the council chamber creak open before me, and for the first time since I entered this palace as his wife, I step inside.
I’ve walked past this room countless times. I’ve paused outside its grand arches, watching officials stride in and out, their footsteps echoing off the marble floor like drumbeats of decisions that shaped kingdoms. But today is different. Today, I am not a bystander. I am not the girl peeking from the hallway, invisible in silks too fine for her skin.
Today, I am sitting inside.
