The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(88)

“I don’t know why you don’t just sleep there all the time.”

Esha sighed, tugging off her clothing and pouring herself a cold bath. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with a maid and she wanted to talk to her friend in confidence.

“You know it’s not like that, Arpiya. It’s never been. It’s an arrangement, nothing more.” She pushed away memories of when it might have been more than an arrangement, when they had stood on the precipice of something more.

Her relationship with Harun had always been . . . complicated.

Arpiya raised her shoulders as if to say, sure, whatever, not my business anyway. But her eyes flashed with mischief and Esha knew this wasn’t the last she’d hear of it.

“What have I missed?” Esha asked instead. Arpiya launched into the rundown.

The peace summit was still on and a messenger had arrived just this morning. Surprisingly, not a word about the general’s death. Not even a sole squawk of protest that their general had been murdered. That raised Esha’s hackles—was silence indication of an upcoming attack? It was the last thing they needed right now. She made a note to inform Harun and send out the Yellow Squad leaders to hunt for information.

Kunal might have information; now that he knew the truth about his uncle’s death, maybe he could be a real asset. Despite the kiss and the unspoken words, Esha felt as if they had reached an understanding yesterday. She hoped she was right.

Aside from that, training was going abysmally, in Arpiya’s words. But she had never been one for patience and coddling, which was what new recruits needed in the beginning. Arpiya was like a dust storm—unpredictable and ever changing. The fact that she had remained with the rebels was a constant source of fascination to everyone, even Arpiya herself.

Esha thought it was because no day was the same with the rebels. And they had a purpose. Purpose could overcome boredom and fear, two of the biggest problems they faced with recruits at first. It was why Harun was an integral part of the first moons of training. He was the best at boosting morale, and Esha swept in after to whip the recruits into shape after their morning indoctrination.

A brilliant setup. Sometimes Harun’s mind frightened her.

Esha sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Moon Lord, Arpiya. I have so much to tell you.”

She hesitated then.

Trusting Arpiya was second nature, but Esha had to be careful. Betrayal often came in the least expected packages. There was the truth with the general, but also Kunal. Esha had been pulled between thinking of all the advantages Kunal could bring to the rebels and wanting to pack him far away from here, away from politics and war.

Since coming back a week ago, she had taken on the mantle of rebel leader again, and she found herself hating the way she now viewed Kunal. He deserved better and she needed someone to talk to.

Arpiya rolled her eyes. “I can literally see you thinking, Esha. Is this how you became the Viper? If so, it’s a wonder you haven’t been killed yet.”

Esha scrunched her nose up at Arpiya. “Only you can read me that well. Anyway, I don’t want to burden you . . .” She didn’t see the flat pillow before it hit her, smacking her square in the face. Esha sputtered.

“Don’t ever say that again,” Arpiya scolded.

Esha began to protest but Arpiya waved her words away. “Our bond is deeper than mindless gossip and meaningless gestures. You’ve killed for me, Esha. I’ll keep your secrets. It’s just a drop in the bucket of what you’ve given me.”

Esha swallowed hard. They didn’t speak of that night often, but Esha had never forgotten it, and apparently, neither had Arpiya.

Arpiya’s expression lightened. “And you’re my friend. Stop looking like you swallowed a prickly jackfruit and tell me everything.”

Esha took a deep breath and started with the truth of the general’s death. When they came out of the whirlwind of words a half hour later, Arpiya’s eyes were wide.

“The general’s nephew? Have you told Harun?” Arpiya asked. “This could be a great opportunity.”

“No, not yet. It’s not like he’d be that useful, especially now that the general is dead.”

“It won’t matter and you know it; Harun isn’t going to let the soldier leave easily if you tell him. It’s too good of an opportunity,” she said.

And this was only with the knowledge that he was the general’s nephew. Esha rubbed her eyes, pressing the heels of her palms against them. She breathed in, heavy and tired.

She knew this.

If she was being a true leader to her rebel family, she wouldn’t let Kunal leave either.

But something had shifted in her, her allegiance being split in two. Esha sighed, realizing she hadn’t even revealed the worst part to Arpiya yet—that Kunal was a Samyad.

“And he’ll be even more displeased when he realizes the soldier’s halfway in love with you.” Esha’s head, bowed in thought, shot back up. She sent daggers at Arpiya, who was unfazed. “Why else would he have let you live, over and over?”

“In love?” Esha scoffed, her heart beating faster in spite of herself.

“And now I know it might be mutual.”

Esha said nothing but knew she was caught. She had known from the beginning that the feelings blooming in her heart were madness, utter stupidity. Arpiya’s words simply confirmed it.