Page 119 of The Burning Mountain
Veer winced. It must have been another blow to her—to realize a person she counted as a friend was a spy.
“Do you suppose she’ll ever forgive Meera?” asked Shota.
Veer halted and glanced back at his friend. Shota had his impassive face on, but that question indicated he was anything but.
“I don’t know, Shota. But I understand how it feels to be betrayed by a friend. So give it some time. Maybe they’ll find a way to get past this.”
59
AN APOLOGY AND A PROMISE
Upset was the wrong word, thought Veer when he saw Chandra. She was in the dark garb she usually wore when traveling and, from the looks of it, must have been practicing her martial arts for hours. Sweat sheened her bare shoulders, glistened at her waist, and rolled in rivulets down her temple.
She glimmered in the light, the mark of her ancestor shone—no longer the red of her blood—but a golden beacon on her forehead, as she spun and twirled the twin daggers in her hands.
The sun was setting, turning the marble of the balcony into a transparent reflection of the blue sky, so it appeared like she was dancing on the surface of a lake. Except it was no lake and she wasn’t exactly dancing.
All seven of therudrakshabeads were up in the air, hovering, and the curved daggers in her hands blazed with a golden light. As he watched, two of therudrakshabeads fused into the blade of the daggers and the weapons morphed into swords.
Her movements were quicksilver and so mesmerizing that Veer realized that more than a few minutes had passed before remembering he needed to talk to her, not watch her spellbound.
He cleared his throat. She ignored him.
“I’m sorry,” he began. “It wasn’t even my intention to go there. It’s just that…we are from different cultures and have different expectations from marriage and I didn’t know if this is a duty to you or something else.”
Chandra swung her swords, her movements smooth despite the change in her weapon’s dimensions. She gave no indication she heard him.
“Chandra, I’m sorry.”
She continued to ignore him, practicing her moves.
He changed tactics. Maybe he could get her angry enough to shout at him. “It isn’t like I was completely wrong, though. You must admit those aren’t exactly lies either. Damn it, will you stop?”
She halted, chest heaving. Sweat rolled down her torso. Veer stepped forward but stopped when he felt the tip of her blade at his Adam’s apple.
“If it helps, I’ve decided to let you come with me to Meru,” he said carefully, wondering if he would feel the slice of the blade on his skin today. “Bhupathi is needed…elsewhere.” He could tell how angry she was by the way her eyes blazed, the amber flecks on fire.
“Youhave decided, have you?” she deadpanned. Veer sensed, with some male instinct, he had put his foot in his mouth. This was a first for him, trying to pacify a woman.
“I…” His glib tongue wouldn’t cooperate, and whatever excuses he planned withered under her gaze.
“What makes you think I was content to sit and let you take the lead, Prince Veer?”
He gulped, his Adam’s apple alarmingly close to the sharp tip, and hoped she would remove the sword. “I have the Lotus Key.” It was all his benumbed brain could supply.
Chandra scoffed out a breath and lowered her sword, sheathing the other. She closed her eyes and raised her hand, palm cupped in the air.
Veer felt a jerk at his robes, as if something tugged at them.
The Lotus Key sailed from his pocket and into her hand, as if summoned.
“What were you saying?” she asked, chin tilted in a smug challenge.
It took him a moment to notice his mouth had fallen open. His jaw snapped shut and he had the disturbing comprehension that he was at a disadvantage here. In many ways.
“The Lotus Key is rebuilt using my blood, I can summon it at will. Youwillhave to take me.”
Veer managed a nod and took a step forward, stopping when she placed her sword tip at his neck again.
