Star Daughter(96)

Nani joined her palms before her face. “My deepest apologies, House Dhanishta. We will not disturb the proceedings again.”

Did Nani even realize she was in the wrong? Had anything Charumati said hit home?

Just as Sheetal had opened her heart to Dev’s, she now opened it to this woman’s. Her grandmother’s.

And then she heard it, a small but singular strain of notes in the starsong: guilt.

Nani felt guilty. The fulfillment she’d taken in her momentary act of vengeance had rotted into regret and self-recrimination. Sheetal only glimpsed it for a second, but that was all she needed. Nani had built an entire worldview to justify a mistake she had made long ago.

Not caring if it got her kicked out of the competition, Sheetal stalked to her grandmother’s side. “Nani, did you really hate that guy so much that you’d rather throw away your sister’s child than raise him to be yours?”

“He nearly murdered Ojasvini.” Nani stood proud and tall. “If I had not found her when I did, he would have.”

“But the baby would have grown into one of us. He didn’t need to know his father.”

Nani shook her head. “Not with that taint in his blood.”

“‘Taint’?” The word stung Sheetal’s lips, her heart, like a toxin. “Do you think I’m tainted?”

“Of course not. You are mine.”

Mine. “You think I’m just going to forget all about Dad if you keep me up here long enough, don’t you?”

Nani’s voice was compassionate yet resolute. “Naturally you will not forget him, Sheetal. But he will age and pass on, and you will remain. Do you not feel the changes occurring in you even as we speak? You will never be truly content among mortals. Your heart belongs with us, as do you.”

“So it’s okay to trap me here?” Sheetal bit out. “To ban anyone from giving me blood to help him, so I have to stay and win this competition for you? What kind of love is that?”

That at least must have rattled Nani, because she stepped backward.

Charumati gave Sheetal a significant look. “You see?” she asked. “Look how the ripples of one malignant mortal’s actions have corrupted our court. You should never be made to choose. You deserve to move freely between the realms, as we all once did.”

The air and astral melody both juddered under the weight of disgusted protest. Sheetal heard the term “mortal lover” scornfully tossed around more than once. The invisible arrows impaled her, one after another, leaving her smarting. How many of these people, her people, agreed with Nani’s stance?

But hesitant tendrils of curiosity were sprouting, too, Urjit’s among them. Sheetal found his strain in the sidereal song and felt her shoulders drop. At least she’d gotten through to him.

“Did you know that upon my return to the court, I beseeched Rati’s parents to reinstate her title? They rebuffed me. They find her too embittered, too acrimonious.” Charumati dabbed at her eyes. “We cannot remain like this. Let us look forward, to redeeming humanity and preventing future suffering.”

Kaushal materialized at her side as if he’d just been waiting for the chance. “I will help. In fact, I volunteer to resume my life among the mortals as part of the delegation to wake them.”

Padmini’s wail carried through the crowd. She raced to the platform, pursued by Minal. “No!”

“No,” Minal agreed. “I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. This counts as anything.”

“Patience, Kaushal,” Charumati chided gently. She addressed the audience. “The truth, which so many of us wish not to acknowledge, is this: We cannot cut ourselves off from mortals. We thrive by coexisting with them. It is our duty to see them thrive and improve as well.” She pointed to Jeet. “It is our duty to inspire them to be better.”

“Let us inspire him right now!” Kaushal suggested. “It will mean more if we can demonstrate our plan.”

Dev frowned, dubious. “I’d say that didn’t really work out the first time.”

Sheetal remembered his plea for Jeet to turn back into the person he had been. “Dev,” she whispered, knowing it was a risk, “what if we could fix Jeet? Make him better? Would you want me to try?”

Jeet laughed cynically. “You think you know what better is?”

Even when they’d fought, Dev had never looked at her like this, like she was her own evil twin. “You mean, mess with him like Rati did? Hard pass, thanks.”

“No, I mean, enlighten him. Inspire him to be better.”

“How is that any different?” Dev challenged. “No, seriously. Would you decide one day you needed to fix me, too?”

The air went out of Sheetal. She’d forgotten her mother meant all the imperfect mortals on Earth, which of course meant every single person in existence, good or not.

If they inspired all mortals’ choices, no one would ever make a mistake or have a moment of doubt. That sounded beautiful, but . . .

She forced herself to picture inspiring Dev like that. He’d never burn her cookies or be shy writing her a song. He’d always do everything right.

He wouldn’t be Dev.

Even Minal was staring at Sheetal like she didn’t recognize her. “Listen to yourself! Three days here, and you’re talking about mind control?”