Star Daughter(102)
And she had inspired that.
She shivered. The lyrics, the utter power of his voice, reverberated even now through the court, imprinting themselves on the most resistant of House Pushya’s detractors.
But what would the judges say? They could be biased or just plain have bad taste.
And the other nakshatras, the ones the starry judges belonged to, had no reason to love House Pushya.
Dev’s final notes, rife with sorrow, with hope, faded until only a hush remained. Glancing around, Sheetal glimpsed tears sparkling on more faces than she could count. At least she wasn’t the only one crying.
Charumati and Nana looked troubled, but Nani sat with a stone face. The astral melody betrayed nothing of her actual state of mind as Dev stumbled down the platform and headed toward House Pushya’s tent.
Oh, Nani. Come on. I know that moved you. I know it.
Looking dazed, Dev took the extra seat Beena had placed next to Sheetal’s. “How was it?” he whispered, his beautiful eyes lit from within.
“You . . .” She shook her head. “I can’t.”
The judges had retreated behind their curtain of invisibility to deliberate. Sheetal started gnawing on her cuticle before catching herself. So becoming a full star hadn’t changed everything.
If they didn’t win, she reminded herself, she’d done her best. They both had. She found Dev’s hand with her own, not minding at all when he squeezed back too hard.
A few minutes later, the judges reemerged, led by the mortal man. “We have reached our decision.”
Hanging on to Dev’s hand, Sheetal tuned everything out but the judge’s words. “Each performance was a piece of art,” he droned. “I wasn’t even sure we’d be able to pick a winner. All of you should be proud.”
Ugh, she thought, get on with it.
“But alas, a choice had to be made, and I’m glad as can be to announce the winner of this competition: Dev Merai, with his song from the heart!”
Applause thundered through the court, laced with shouts of gratification and grumbles of disappointment. Sheetal could have screamed. He’d done it, he’d done it, he’d done it! He’d won!
Dev looked flabbergasted. In front of everyone, he pulled Sheetal out of her seat and spun her around. “I don’t believe it!”
“I do.” Grinning, Sheetal returned the spin. Minal grabbed her in a bear hug, while Padmini and Beena formed an impromptu dancing circle around them. A few of the younger stars from House Pushya, including Kaushal, rushed down from the stands and joined in.
The former ruling matriarch gave one sharp clap, silencing the court. “Many congratulations to House Pushya on its victory this day. House Pushya will succeed House Dhanishta as next to rule over our court.”
Even Nani had to be happy about that.
Along with the rest of her house and her friends, Sheetal cheered. Her skin exuded silver flame, her hair shimmered and flashed, and her mind whirled. There was so much to do, so much to think through. First, of course, she had to get home and save Dad. Nothing was going to stop her from doing that. And now, she realized, her breath catching, she didn’t even need anyone else’s blood to do it.
Nani wouldn’t close the gates, then. If she tried, she’d be trapping Sheetal on Earth, leaving her to burn out like Ojasvini had.
“And now,” declared the former ruling patriarch, “it is time to present the winner with his well-deserved prize. Mortal Dev Merai, please approach the dais.”
Only too late, far too late, her stomach falling ten stories, did Sheetal remember the prize for winning the competition had to go to someone. The prize Dev had never wanted.
And from the horrified look on Dev’s face, he did, too.
Nani and Nana held a whole conversation in a glance, and when Sheetal checked the starsong, they’d bricked their feelings away behind a harmonious front. Whatever Nani thought about her plans being usurped and her secret revealed, she would never dream of letting it travel outside their immediate family. Let rumors spread as rumors would; she wouldn’t bother to address them.
No, she would take her revenge in subtler ways. Sheetal’s euphoria curdled like expired milk.
“How fortunate our desires align.” Nani moved toward Dev like a panther coiled to spring. “Certainly the Pushya nakshatra can do no less than honor our champion and his victory by presenting him with his award.”
“I don’t need any award,” he said hastily. “Give it to Priyanka. Or better yet, keep it. I was just filling in. Like a substitute teacher. No one rewards substitute teachers.”
“No,” said Nani, silky as a snake’s hiss, “I insist. You won the competition, and we would be remiss as hosts to deny you that.”
“Mom?” Sheetal tried.
Her mother merely gave her a frail smile. “The Esteemed Matriarch is correct. It is stated in the bylaws: the prize must be awarded to the winner.”
Nani’s next words came as a whisper only those closest to her could hear. “Make no mistake; the mortal boy will get what he has earned—eternal renown. What you, my dikri, have helped him earn.”
“Nani, please,” Sheetal begged. “Please don’t do this to him.”
Nani only laughed. When she spoke, her voice was as imperious as Sheetal had ever heard it. “You are young, Sheetal. So very young. You do not yet know what you do not know. If you must purge this youthful rebellion from your system and wander the mortal world for now, I can wait. Heal your papa. Enjoy your time with him. I have had many eons in which to learn patience.”