Star Daughter(71)

Reluctant compassion stirred in Sheetal as she listened. She and Minal would have done the same thing, but Minal would never have left her behind. “That sucks, but shouldn’t you be over it by now?”

“Foolish girl!” Rati rebuked her. “If it had ended there, yes. It did not. I had never seen your grandmother so riled. She could not punish Charumati, so she punished me, shaming me before my house, claiming I had corrupted her precious daughter and persuaded her to break the taboo of consorting with mortals.” Silvery flame limned her form, but the astral melody only tinkled and chimed.

“Even that I might have borne. Yet when your mother did not return, I was stripped of my rank as princess. Your grandmother pressed for it, and my parents knew of no other way to mollify her wrath. After all, I had sought to break the taboo.”

So that was why Rati didn’t wear a circlet. And now she had to watch Charumati remain princess of her nakshatra.

That was awful. In her place, Sheetal would probably want to make everyone pay, too.

But she wasn’t in Rati’s place, and she couldn’t afford to get involved. “I’m really sorry to hear that,” she said, “but as you yourself pointed out, it’s not my fault. So maybe leave me out of this petty revenge scheme?”

Rati’s expression went dark as the night sky without any stars. “Hear me well. I gave you the opportunity to leave. You chose not to take it, and now any culpability for what happens next lies with you. Do not be surprised if it is not to your taste, puppet thief.”

In a single motion, she stood and sashayed from the chamber.

By the time Sheetal made it to the hallway, Rati was gone. Instead, she found Minal and Padmini, with squares of plain black fabric over their laps and spools of colored floss neatly stacked on the low table before them.

“I’m pretty sure Rati just threatened me,” Sheetal told them, breathless. She recounted the conversation as fast as she could.

“Oh, Sheetu, I’m sorry,” Minal said. “I got distracted. I didn’t even notice her.”

Well, thought Sheetal, a little miffed, if you hadn’t disappeared yesterday at the library, you would’ve known to be wary of her.

But that wasn’t fair. Minal wasn’t her bodyguard.

Padmini began packing up the cache of supplies. “I am glad you did not accept her offer. Their enmity is old, and we need you here with us.”

Feeling contrite, Sheetal changed the subject. “What are you two doing, anyway?”

Minal held out a needle threaded with blue floss. “Padmini’s teaching me how to embroider! You know how much I love making things.”

Sheetal, who also knew how much Minal avoided anything that even slightly resembled sewing, raised her eyebrows.

“Did you know Padmini designs all the fabrics for your nakshatra?” Minal gushed. “She spun this floss out of night winds.”

“Very cool,” Sheetal agreed. “So what’re you making?”

“We are working up to a peacock feather,” Padmini explained.

Sheetal stared suspiciously at the tangled lumps of floss on Minal’s square. They looked nothing like the feather on Padmini’s. “Right,” she fibbed. “I totally see it.”

Padmini winked, letting her fingers graze Minal’s under the guise of smoothing out her fabric square. “Everyone must start somewhere. I am certain your next attempt will show great improvement.”

“Oh, for sure,” Minal said, though she looked sheepishly at her mess of lumps. “Why stop at one feather? We can do a whole peacock next time.”

“It is good to have dreams, or so your mortal television claims,” Padmini teased. She bopped Minal on the nose, then got up and excused herself. “Sheetal, do not forget your next session is a rehearsal period.”

The second she was gone, Sheetal nudged Minal with her shoulder. “A palace full of amazing things to explore, and you thought, ‘I’ll just take up embroidery, a thing I hate with the passion of a thousand suns, today.’”

“Hey,” Minal protested, “I have to keep myself busy somehow.”

“Please. I saw that wink.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Minal ran a finger over her mutilated feather, all studied innocence. “I’m just gathering intel for you.”

“Such a noble sacrifice you’re making on my part. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that she’s beautiful.”

“Is she?” Minal’s eyes brimmed with mischief. “I hadn’t noticed. Funny that you think so, though.”

Sheetal screwed up her face in disbelief. “Out with it. What’s going on with you?”

“Okay, fine.” Minal danced in her chair. “We’ve been talking every chance we get. She’s so pretty and smart and nice and loves fashion. I’ve been showing her some of my designs on my phone.” She slowed just enough to take a breath. “She’s a really good sister, too. I think there’s this part of her that wants to be this secret rebel—you’d never guess from the way she follows the rules—but she has to look out for her brother, so she hides it.”

Sheetal laughed. She’d never seen Minal like this. “I knew you had it bad, but . . .”

“I know, I know, but Sheetu, she took me to this orchard under the stars!” Minal’s voice grew dreamy. “It was all glowy, and we sat under a tree and ate blue mangoes.”