The Ivory Key, page 19
“As exhausting as always.”
The Council had insisted that she attend to the Viceroy of Ishvat personally, welcoming Preethi’s parents and sisters into her family. Vira had argued for a smaller engagement ceremony, but the Council had overruled her, insisting that the viceroy be allowed to invite whoever he wished. Most of the visitors were staying in Dvar, but the palace still felt stiflingly full with additional guests and the flurry of engagement preparations.
“Did you tell them about the journey?” he asked.
Vira sighed. The conversation had gone about as well as she’d expected. “The Council doesn’t want me to go to Gauri Mahal.”
They’d cited protests, or the possibility that Lyria would finally make a move, but that was all the more reason for her to go. The best protection was finding more magic.
“And will you listen to them?”
Her mother would probably have agreed with the Council. She’d have focused on the ceremony, on Ronak. But Vira couldn’t think about anything else—not when the Ivory Key was within her grasp.
“No,” she said. “We’ll proceed as planned.”
He nodded. “All right.”
Vira watched him for a moment. He’d never been talkative, but lately he’d been coming around more often—stopping by to visit her, to ask about her day or share a story about his. She’d gotten used to that version of him, and now she had no idea what was going through his head. She didn’t like it.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
He smiled a little. “Yes, of course. I was just . . . thinking.”
“About?”
“Our journey.”
“I have been, too,” Vira admitted. “Maybe . . . maybe we should consider Surya?”
“Surya?” He pushed away from the railing, turning to face her.
“We need a guide who is familiar with mercenary territory. One who can help us evade capture. One who is invested in finding the key.”
“We can’t take him, Vira.” His mouth was set in a grim line. “There’s too much at risk.”
“There’s not,” Vira said. “I’ve thought this through. We can keep him shackled. We can find a way to make sure he doesn’t escape.”
But Amrit shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. What happens after we find the key?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out then. We need his knowledge.”
“I’ll make sure we get there safely. Trust me.”
“It’s not about trust, Amrit. It’s about guarantees. It’s not just myself I have to worry about, but everyone else—Riya, Kaleb, Ronak.”
“I promise that I’ll keep all of you safe,” Amrit said earnestly.
“How can you promise that?”
Amrit opened his mouth. And then closed it. Something unreadable flickered in his expression.
Shadows had always lived in his eyes. She’d known there were parts of his life that he wasn’t ready to share with her—that he might never be ready to share with her. But somewhere along the line, the walls she’d put up around herself had simply vanished with him. She’d told him things she’d told no one else. About her panic attacks, about her mother, about the fears she couldn’t outrun.
And she was starting to fear that he didn’t return that trust.
“You ask me to trust you, Amrit, but I don’t know if you trust me. You know everything about me. And I can count on both hands all that I know about you.”
“You know more about me than anyone else,” he said. “Vira, you know everything that matters.”
Vira said nothing.
“Where is this coming from?” he asked. His eyes were wary, confused, almost a little hurt.
“From me, Amrit.” She suddenly felt exhausted. All she wanted was to climb into her bed and hide from the world.
“There are some things that are not . . .” He huffed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “There are some things I can’t share, Vira.”
“I can handle it. Whatever it is.”
“I know you can. But I don’t know if I can.”
“What does that mean?”
More silence.
“I’m not asking for much. Just something.” Vira sounded like she was begging. Maybe she was.
“We’ve been up here for too long,” he said. “I should go.” He pushed away from the balcony.
“Amrit, wait,” she called after him, but he was already walking out of her room.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
— Riya —
RIYA WAS ACTUALLY enjoying Ronak’s engagement party.
Her body was weighted down by heavy gold jewelry that covered every inch of her. Colorful bangles were stacked up her arm, and even her ankles hadn’t been left bare, encircled by bell-laden anklets that jangled with every step. But she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much.
She’d had fun with the Ravens, of course, but it was different making fun of councilors with Indra or sneaking extra helpings of sweets with Kaleb. She didn’t think she’d missed this, but she had—and it was her last chance to enjoy palace life before she returned to the Ravens with the Ivory Key.
“Can you believe Preethi’s engaged?” Archana asked, dropping into the empty seat at the table they’d claimed hours earlier. But while Riya and Indra had stayed there, Archana had spent the time dutifully checking in on Preethi. Riya felt a spark of guilt that she hadn’t done the same for Ronak, but he’d made it clear that he didn’t want her around.
“Hmm,” Jay said, gesturing to a nearby servant to refill his tumbler of palm wine. Riya didn’t know why he was there and not attending to Ronak, but he’d inserted himself into their group several hours earlier.
“It still doesn’t feel real,” Indra agreed, adjusting the pallu of her sari. She’d selected one that was scandalously sheer, revealing the elaborate embroidery of her full-sleeved blouse.
“You danced beautifully, Arch,” Riya said.
Archana beamed. She’d choreographed and performed a dance with her other family members. She looked stunning too, trading in her simple dance practice clothes for a stone-studded anarkali that flared every time she moved.
Riya stole Kaleb’s untouched tumbler of tadi. He raised his eyebrows, and Riya shrugged. “It’s not like you were drinking it.”
He’d stayed by her side most of the night, not speaking much, looking around as though he still couldn’t believe he was free. He’d loved these kinds of events, she remembered, and it made her sad to see him so uncharacteristically reserved.
Archana suddenly grabbed Riya’s arm. “Wait. Is that Varun?”
“What?” Riya whipped her head around. She found him immediately, standing next to a pillar on the walkway, glaring at the crowd.
“Who’s Varun?” Jay asked.
“He’s a scholar,” Riya said miserably. What was he doing here?
“A very young and attractive scholar,” Archana clarified, as if that made it any better.
“Attractive?” Jay leaned forward, looking in the same direction.
“Go talk to him,” Indra urged. “He looks out of place, poor thing.”
“Who’s this scholar?” Kaleb asked, craning his head. He looked more interested in this than anything else they’d discussed so far, and the last thing Riya wanted was for her brother to meet Varun.
“You’re right.” Riya stood and drank the last of the tadi in her glass. “I should go talk to him.”
She felt their eyes on her back the whole time as she made her way toward him. He turned as she approached, and his eyes traveled down the length of her body. He was dressed in a dark silk sherwani, looking far too much like he belonged in this world, and Riya didn’t like it.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said by way of greeting.
She’d skipped her meetings with him that week, citing preparations for Ronak’s engagement. She’d half expected him to show up at her door and demand updates, but he’d left her alone.
“I saw you yesterday,” she said mildly.
“And you walked away before we could talk.”
“Not here.” She subtly nodded toward where Archana, Indra, Kaleb, and Jay were unabashedly staring at the two of them.
Varun’s eyes flicked to them. “I thought you took care of it.”
“I can’t help that they think we’re—” She stopped herself. She’d had too much tadi. It was making her careless. She’d almost said they think we’re in love.
His eyes narrowed. “They think we’re what?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “That we’re Ravens?”
“No!”
“Then what?”
“It’s nothing. Look, can we do this later?” She wasn’t in the mood for a drawn-out argument with him.
“So you can go back to enjoying yourself with your friends?” he asked. “I’m sorry to inconvenience you by reminding you that you’re here for a reason.”
Vaishali’s bones. “Fine,” Riya said, relenting. She couldn’t avoid him forever. She grabbed his forearm and pulled him deeper into the garden, walking between hedges and rosebushes until the sounds of laughter and music dimmed.
“Well?” she prompted once she verified that they were alone. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I think there’s something wrong with the quarry.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”
“There’s something off about the guards stationed at the entrance. They’re too relaxed.”
“The fort is well protected, Varun. And not a lot of people go into the quarry on a daily basis.”
“But that’s the thing, Riya,” Varun said, his eyes shining as if he had stumbled onto something important. “No one goes there. And in the last month, not a single shipment has arrived at the Mayaka Association. I don’t think they’re taking any magic out of the quarries.”
“That’s absurd,” Riya said. “I’ve been there. Everything is perfectly fine.”
Varun looked taken aback. “You went into the quarry?”
“Yes. Ronak took me. They’re probably just behind on the shipment because of the rains.” The lies tumbled from her lip with startling ease.
His eyes bored into hers. “You went to the quarry?”
She nodded.
Varun crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s funny. Because I also went to the quarry. And imagine my surprise to find that it was entirely empty.”
Riya’s stomach plummeted. How had he gained access? Who had taken him? But it didn’t matter—Varun had been there. He knew just how much magic was left.
And he knew that she had lied to him.
“How long have you known?” His voice was deadly quiet.
Riya swallowed. “Two weeks.”
“You’ve known for two weeks.” Rage simmered in his voice.
“I have a plan.”
“A plan?” he echoed. “What’s the plan?”
Riya bit her lip. “I—I’m sorry, I can’t tell you.”
“You can’t tell me?” He sounded incredulous. “You can understand why I’d doubt you.”
“No, I really can’t.” She turned to face him, unable to stop herself from saying the words that had plagued her for days. “You told me to come here and prove to you that I’m a Raven. And then you showed up a week after I did. You didn’t even give me a chance.”
“Because you’re not taking it seriously.” He was in her space, looming over her, his dark eyes burning into hers. “I see you every day, Riya. Flitting from social engagement to social engagement. Laughing with those girls over chai and sweets. Wasting time.”
“That’s what’s expected of a rajkumaari!” she blurted out, hating how much she sounded like Vira. “Of course that’s not what I want to be doing, but it’s what the Council expects me to do. I can’t defy them outright if I intend to keep my cover. Isn’t that the reason you do research in the library?”
“That’s different.”
“It’s not.” She pulled away from him. “I’m handling this, Varun. I just need some time.”
“You’ve had plenty of time,” he said coolly. “You could have talked to me about this days ago, and you chose to lie. Tell me now. Or I walk out of here and you no longer have a home with the Ravens.”
Riya froze. “You can’t do that.”
She could have dealt with this days ago. She could have accused him of theft and gotten rid of him, but she hadn’t. And some part of her couldn’t help but wonder if that was on purpose. Maybe she’d wanted him to find out. To take the choice away from her.
“You told me you were a Raven, not a rajkumaari. So which is it?”
“I—” Riya swallowed. She didn’t know.
Varun shook his head, disgusted. “That’s what I thought. You’re out.”
Suddenly feeling like she wanted to cry, Riya wrapped her arms around herself, leaning heavily against a nearby tree trunk as Varun walked away from her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
— Ronak —
RONAK WAS NOT enjoying his engagement party. It wasn’t as though it was actually for him. It was for the Council and the string of influential wealthy people they’d invited. But he was the one who was forced to sit on an elaborately decorated throne and smile as stranger after stranger came up to offer the pair their congratulations.
Next to him, Preethi didn’t show the slightest bit of exhaustion. She’d been there just as long as he had, covered head to toe in gold and ruby jewelry, but her smile had never wavered. She leaned over to him, her bangles brushing the sleeve of his kurta. “That’s Councilor Aman’s wife, Jasleen, and son, Ranvir,” she said under her breath.
Ronak adjusted the garland of flowers around his neck and sat up straighter. As much as he’d wanted to ignore her, he’d realized it was easier—and faster—to get through the night with her whispering details to him. Unlike him, she took her duty seriously and learned who everyone was, inquiring thoughtfully about their interests or their children.
As Preethi talked to Jasleen, Ronak looked around the gardens for any sign of his siblings. He hadn’t seen any of them since the formal ceremony in the morning. Ronak had been wakened at the crack of dawn, dragged to the baths, and placed in front of the fire pit next to Preethi. Smoke from the coals had twined with incense and made Ronak cough as the priestess chanted mantras to invoke the goddesses. He’d received blessings first from Vira, as the maharani, and then Kaleb as his elder brother. Ronak had made a commitment he had no intention of honoring. And then it was over.
In the back of his mind it had occurred to him how strange it was that it was Vira’s feet he’d touched, not his mother’s, but the thought passed as quickly as it came. It didn’t matter who was on the throne—he would still only be a string of numbers to them, his worth reduced to the number of resources that would trade hands with this alliance.
“Would you like to eat?” Preethi asked. “I can have one of the servants fetch us plates.”
Ronak turned around, surprised to realize that Aman’s family was gone and the crowd had dwindled, drawn to the feast that had been laid out. He awkwardly fiddled with the collar of his kurta. It would be the polite thing to do, but he didn’t much feel like eating.
“Maybe another time,” he said.
“Another time,” she agreed amicably. She hadn’t pressed him for an answer to her earlier offer, but he could see the question in her eyes every time she met his gaze. He felt bad—he did. But he was leaving the palace behind as soon as he had the Ivory Key, and she deserved someone who would stay.
He gave her a small smile and walked away from the dais. The gardens, for what it was worth, were decorated beautifully. Tiny lanterns with flameless magic light were tied up on strings, crisscrossing in the air. Divans had been set out on the grass and pavement, allowing small groups to gather. On the far side of the garden, separated by a wall of rosebushes, there were silk tents with tables carrying delicacies from across the provinces of Ashoka—deep-fried vada soaked in vegetable sambar; crisp kachoris topped with potatoes and chutney; makki ki roti served with spiced saag; coconut stew ladled over steamed idiyappam; kulchas and stuffed parathas fresh from the tandoor. There was an entire table dedicated to sweets: halwa with dried fruit and nuts, bowls of kesar rabri with creamy malai, rows of kala jamun drizzled with cardamon and rose sugar syrup, stacks of milk peda and coconut burfi.
Ronak stopped in his tracks as a figure stepped into his path. He would recognize Ekta anywhere, but the shock of seeing her here made his mind screech to a halt.
“Congratulations, Rajkumaara,” she greeted him. On anyone else, Ronak would have believed the smile to be sincere. She wore bottle green today, her velvet sari accessorized with muted gold necklaces and bangles that were fashionable when his grandmother had ruled. “How are you enjoying your party?”
“It’s great,” he lied. “I’m having a wonderful time.”
That made her laugh. “I’m not a politician. You don’t have to lie to me.”
“What are you doing here?” Ronak asked. He wasn’t in the mood to trade veiled barbs in plain view of everyone in the garden. And though they were on his turf, it still somehow felt as if she had the upper hand. She wasn’t out of place here. She spoke and held herself like a noble.
“I have a vested interest in you, Rajkumaara. A good businesswoman keeps a careful eye on her assets.” She laughed again. “Oh, don’t sulk. It’s rather unbecoming of a rajkumaara.”
It was the kind of thing his mother would have said—or Vira, for that matter—and it irritated him even more. “Why are you here?” he repeated.
Ekta looked at him and then answered with surprising seriousness. “I was invited. I grew up in this world, you know. Not one of the nobles, of course not, but close enough to know the power they wield.” She looked almost wistful, but Ronak knew better. “See, you and I aren’t so different. We were both unhappy with the circumstances of our birth, and there’s little we wouldn’t do to change it.” Her gaze sharpened once again. “I trust you remember the terms of our arrangement.”
