Star Daughter(84)

Poor Minal only had one lady-in-waiting attending to her—Padmini, who must not have been able to give up attendant duty completely. They were the only two silent people in all the room, their smiles brittle.

Meanwhile, Nani hovered over Sheetal, directing the others to drape here, pin there. Too bad she couldn’t command away Sheetal’s nerves about the competition.

Tomorrow. Tonight she would compete, and tomorrow she would have the drop of blood and go home to heal Dad. Tomorrow everything would be better. She just had to keep telling herself that.

She reached for her scab, picking at it, almost ripping it off. Oh, gods, she’d never performed before anyone except her parents and Minal. Never, ever. Now she had to go in front of the entire starry court and be judged? How could these two days of training ever be enough?

And where was Charumati? Her mother should be there with her.

Following Nani’s instructions, the ladies-in-waiting swathed Sheetal in a confection of sheer black speckled with little diamonds and bordered with silver ribbon. She recognized it from the night she’d arrived; her mother had worn this same fabric. “This is shadowsilk,” Nani explained, “a textile reserved exclusively for the royal houses. You will be a dream when you play your instrument tonight.”

“Great,” said Sheetal. There was a fine line between excitement and panic. So far, she was still on the right side of it.

But she might go up onstage, in front of everybody, and blow the whole thing. Just fall flat on her face.

Her grandmother produced an enameled jewel box crammed with silver and platinum necklaces, earrings, armbands, bracelets, rings, and toe rings, most studded with diamonds, sapphires, or black onyx. “Our family’s treasury,” she pronounced, “and today I will pass your first precious heirloom down to you.”

She touched Sheetal’s forehead in blessing and selected a platinum meenakari choker with all three stones and matching jhumka earrings. “This was my favorite set when I was your age, and now it is yours.”

It was like wearing the night sky, if the sky were gems and sparkle and all the incandescent promise of the myriad constellations. Sheetal didn’t know what to say. “Wow,” she got out at last, “thank you so much, Nani!”

Nani brushed it off. “What is there to thank anyone for? You are a child of our house. Who else would wear these?” But her mouth turned up in a pleased half smile.

The wash of affection that rolled over Sheetal calmed her fears. She returned Nani’s smile.

Nani stepped away to confer with Padmini as the two sorted through the rest of the jewelry. Minal hurried over, looking incredible in black-and-silver chaniya choli with a filmy blue dupatta. “Those are stunning,” she whispered. “But where’s your mom?”

“I wish I knew,” Sheetal whispered back.

Then they had to stop talking as a new crop of ladies-in-waiting surrounded them in a whirl of cosmetic tools and creams and cases. “Such beauties!” one exclaimed. “What an honor it is, to be chosen by the Esteemed Matriarch to help prepare you for such a momentous evening.”

Another dabbed the contents of a small silver pot on Sheetal’s skin with a brush. “A touch of this pearl powder here, some brightening shell there, and your natural luster will claim the room.”

At least Sheetal hadn’t totally finished turning into a star. That was something.

She pulled back from the brush’s itchy bristles, earning a mild reproach, while Minal compared various jars. “What’s in these?”

Charumati appeared in the doorway, a serene expression on her face and a cobalt glass box in her hands. “Pardon my tardiness. It took me longer than I wished to lure these friends to me.”

A knot in Sheetal’s chest gave way to relief. Her mom had already missed so many important occasions, the thought of her not being here for this one chafed.

“There you are.” Nani’s nostrils flared. “I already presented Sheetal with her first meenakari set.”

“My apologies, Mother. I would like to have seen that.” Charumati unlatched her box, and crystalline butterflies fluttered into the room, their wings clear and multifaceted as diamonds. Padmini coaxed them toward Sheetal with soft movements, guiding them until they roosted among the jewels in Sheetal’s hair. Their tiny feet tickled.

“Where did these come from?” she asked, overcome.

“The conservatory. There is plenty yet to show you in our palace.” Charumati wound wristlets of black jasmine blossoms around Sheetal’s forearms, and their silver vines spiraled over her skin. Inhaling their seductive perfume, Sheetal shivered.

“You are truly one of us,” Charumati said, her eyes misting over. “Seventeen. The age of majority.”

The astral melody lilted through the air, through Sheetal’s blood, laden with so much emotion: wonder, delight, and even a glimpse of worry before it vanished. One of us.

This should have been a beautiful moment, something out of a story. Long-lost daughter reunited with her family and honored with a ball. But she couldn’t relax. She was already changing; what if she didn’t want to go home after that?

What if she couldn’t?

Beena led her over to a huge mirror whose black frame was carved with intricate images of the various nakshatras. “You are a princess!”

It was true. Starlight limned Sheetal like an aura, and if there had been any doubt as to her heritage before, there wasn’t any now. The slender silver chain across her hairline, the dangling tika, the necklace and chandelier earrings, and the diamond nose ring, not to mention her butterfly-strewn sparkling hair in its low bun, all caught and reflected her illumination, transforming her features into those of Nani’s heir apparent.