Page 7 of The Burning Mountain
Veer faked a loud yawn and leaned back against the mud wall, shading his eyes as the dawn steadily lightened the sky outside. “It happened so long ago, I don’t remember.”
“Liar. I would like a straight answer, for once, from you.”
Veer gave her a sly smile as he picked up their cloth bundle and slung it over his shoulder. “Your sister is prettier, sure. Then I learned she was engaged, so I wanted Amaravathi to lose face by making them break that engagement. But then you crossed my path. And my priorities changed to bringing you to heel…”
He caught her fist as it swung through the air and laughed, pinning her against the wall.
“You wretch, let me go,” she said, struggling against him.
“You started it, Princess,” he said, eyes dancing. Then he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “But maybe the more basic truth is, I married you because I wanted to sleep with you.”
He let her go, and she scrambled away, eyes wide. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she turned her back to him and walked out of the hut. She could feel his amusement at her back. If only that was all she felt, trying to forget the look of unmistakable desire in his eyes.
3
THE THREE BROTHERS
“Why can’t we just kill the boy?” asked Nandiketu, the eldest son of King Naga Bhairava, as he paced across the carpet in the royal palace of Thanepur. His question was rhetorical; his father had decreed Aditya was not to be harmed yet.
A vague sort of anxiety plagued him. Two months prior, one of the granaries in the royal compound was set on fire. No one was hurt, fortunately, but its proximity to the king’s quarters raised eyebrows, and murmurs began about how powerful the burgeoning rebellion actually was.
Nandiketu stopped at a window and peered out into the night.
A group of rebels, calling themselves the Resistance, were determined to restore the throne to whom they considered deserving. Who questioned the legitimacy of the current rulers. Right now, they had thrown their lot behind Prince Aditya, the last surviving descendant of the previous rulers of Thianvelli.
His father wasted no time in starting an investigation and sending his second son, Nagadhar, to find everything he could about—and crushing—the rebellion.
And then he named Nandiketu the crown prince and announced an official engagement between Nandiketu and Namata Devi—the regent of the previous ruling family and the only true royalty they had in their possession. Officially.
Killing Aditya at this time would make their position unassailable, and yet his father tarried. Nandiketu didn’t know what his end goal was, and the not knowing was making his paranoia worse. More so than usual.
“We should just kill that boy,” he repeated, resuming his pacing. “All our problems with the rebellion will be solved. Once we hang him publicly, the Resistance will fold like a pack of cards, and even Gauri Devi cannot help the cause if they believe the heir is dead. It’s absurd to wait until we get the all-clear from Father before killing Aditya. He’s a mere boy—what are we tarrying for?”
Outside, the wind rose in eerie howls like a jackal hunting in the graveyards. It was unseasonably cold for this time of the year, so much so that several charcoal braziers were brought in to make the room warmer.
Nandiketu went toward one next to a window to warm his hands and peered past the curtains once again. There was no sign his younger brother was going to make it today.
“Finally, an intelligent thought in your stupid brain,” said a slurred voice.
Nandiketu whirled around in anger. “What did you say?”
A man, slumped over in his chair, attempted to straighten himself.
“Well, it took you this long to get to this point,” said Ketuvahana, blearily rubbing his eyes.
His youngest brother, despite the bloodshot eyes and haggard appearance that spoke of an afternoon spent chasing the bottle, was a well-built, handsome man. Nandiketu buried the trace of inferiority he always felt in his presence.
“Did you really think the purpose of capturing Prince Aditya was to coddle him? The wizard had a reason for doing the ritual in that tower.” Ketuvahana gave a loud yawn and scratched his beard.
“Get to the point, Ketuvahana.” Nandiketu surveyed his brother’s state of attire with a curled sneer and said, “You’re drunk. I doubt you even know what you’re saying.”
“The point is, my dear brother,” said Ketuvahana with exaggerated patience, a glint in his eye at the insult, “we cannot kill the prince. The wizard has been clever. That snake stone, thenagamani, that he made Aditya wear? It’s not just for imprisonment like we assumed. It’s also for protection. Anyone who approaches Aditya when he is wearing it, dies.”
“How do you know this?”
“I know, because unlike you, I haven’t been twiddling my thumbs. I’ve tried to have Prince Aditya killed in that prison tower several times.” Ketuvahana scratched his day-old beard. “Wasted a good number of my men too.”
“You went against Father’s orders?”
