Page 42 of The Burning Mountain
Perhaps understanding this, the regent smiled, and this time, there was a gentle quality to it. “I hope you never have to realize the meaning behind my words, Princess.”
A distinctive two-three knock sounded just then.
With bated breath, Namata Devi cracked open the door and sighed in relief, opening it wider to let Billadev enter.
Billadev and Namata Devi held a brief conversation that Chandra tried to follow but gave up after a while. She instead focused on the fact that at least Billadev appeared unscathed. Which meant the key piece was safe as well.
They had accomplished that much.
“Princess, we should make a move. Try leaning on me,” said Billadev, draping a scratchy, woolen cape on her that was dyed so dark that it seemed like an extension of night.
He dimmed the light on his lantern until it was barely visible and then stepped out to check if the coast was clear.
Chandra leaned against the doorjamb and thanked Namata Devi one last time.
“No thanks necessary, Princess,” she said. “I only wish we had met under better circumstances.”
“Come with us,” said Chandra on an impulse, suddenly fearing that their disappearance would be blamed on Namata Devi.
Namata Devi shook her head. “I’ll be fine. My place is here. Don’t worry about me. They need me too much to do me harm.”
“But…is there something I can do? As thanks?” said Chandra, loath to leave her there in the den of vile men, even though she could sense Billadev’s impatience to leave.
“Maybe make another shawl for me the next time we meet?” said Namata Devi with a lopsided grin. “I promise I won’t throw it back in your face after it’s done.” She sobered and then hesitated. “If I don’t see my nephew again…will you let him know…will you tell him that all I’ve ever wanted, all that I do, is for him?” Her eyes shone with moisture and Chandra realized the proud princess wouldn’t allow herself to shed tears.
She nodded, understanding. “Farewell, my queen,” said Chandra, slipping away into the night, using the incorrect form of address deliberately. Because at the end of the day, Namata Devi had proved herself to be one. Even if she wore no crown.
19
THE QUEEN’S PROCLAMATION
In the main thoroughfare of Thanepur, a platform was built overnight. Curious people milled around until a substantial crowd started growing.
Ketuvahana leaned back with a pleased expression, surveying the mass of people from his ornate seat set on another dais placed at a right angle to the platform on one end. A closed box covered in a cloth took center stage, and a small podium was erected to one side.
“Did you hear? Is it really Prince Aditya?” asked a voice from the throng.
“That’s what I keep hearing. What’s that box, do you think?” asked another.
Murmurs swirled as people’s curiosity grew.
An announcer strode onto the platform. A brief hush descended. Ketuvahana watched the crowd as his man cleared his throat and announced Aditya’s death. “Anyone who doubts this statement is welcome to check the coffin,” he said and removed the cloth that covered the box.
Guards stationed on either side of the short flight of wooden steps leading to the platform removed the rope partition, then directed the queue into a single file of people.
Ketuvahana watched the proceedings, feeling inordinately pleased with himself.
“Is it true? Have you seen the coffin?” came the rising whispers, once again.
“It does look like Prince Aditya. Poor Queen Gauri Devi,” said a shopkeeper of a nearby business, rubbing his beard in agitation. “What’s to become of her now?”
“Poor queen!” said his companion, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a cloth that hung around his shoulders. “Why are you worried about her? Worry for yourself and the rest of us. We were counting on the heir to come rescue us. What’s to become of us now?”
“How can we be sure it’s really Prince Aditya?” a well-dressed man said, his brows drawn together into a suspicious frown. “No one can recognize him. Didn’t you see his face was burned?”
“I agree with you,” said a priest, who joined the conversation. “It could be anyone. I wouldn’t put it past Prince Ketuvahana to hoodwink us like this.”
And the speculation continued. His guards maintained an impassive facade in the face of these rumors, but Ketuvahana’s expression steadily melted into a pronounced scowl.
