The Fire Queen (The Hundredth Queen #2)(17)

The sultan lowers his double chin as if to inspect me better. “They call you the indomitable Kalinda, the reincarnation of Enlil’s hundredth rani.” His tone borders on ironic.

I wince at the comparison to the fire-god’s triumphant intended queen. Tarachandians started a myth that I was Enlil’s final wife in another life, and Rajah Tarek fed their fantasy, expanding my reputation beyond the believable. I temper the urge to correct the sultan.

“Thank you for having me, Your Majesty.”

“I heard you refused the prince’s invitation to join the trial tournament.” His gruffness carries a note of satisfaction.

“I’m undecided.”

“We anxiously await your answer,” Sultan Kuval replies, returning to his ornery tone. “Please be seated.”

Prince Ashwin and I kneel at the table, and Brother Shaan sits across from us.

Vizier Gyan addresses the council. “Before we begin with other matters, we have questions for Kindred Kalinda about the recent events in Vanhi. Kindred, you were in the Turquoise Palace when it was occupied by rebels, were you not?”

His question, and the subsequent dozen or so probing stares, catches me off guard. I clasp my unsteady hands in my lap, seeking some semblance of composure. “I was.”

“How did Rajah Tarek die?”

A phantom finger strokes down my cheek, and a deep voice whispers my love in my ear.

I jerk my chin sideways. The sultan’s watchful presence hovers at the brink of my vision. “I—I don’t know. I fled when the rebels attacked.”

Vizier Gyan takes hasty notes in front of him with a quill pen. “How did you escape?”

“The captain of the guard led me through a secret passageway below the palace.”

Their silence fires a flush over my skin. They do not know that I bargained with Hastin and slayed Tarek. Prince Ashwin shifts in his seat beside me. How much does he know?

“On the night of the attack, did you see the bhuta warlord?” Vizier Gyan asks.

I falter on a reply. All I can think of is the truth: Hastin tried to kill me in the underground cavern, but I used my powers and fled.

Brother Shaan speaks up. “We must contest this line of questioning. We didn’t bring the kindred here so you could interrogate her.”

“Our apologies,” replies Vizier Gyan. His flat offer of remorse is meant to appease Brother Shaan’s protest on my behalf. The vizier does not extend his apology to me. “The kindred is the only member of Rajah Tarek’s imperial court who escaped the insurgency. We must establish how and why she was spared.”

They suspect I might be a traitor.

But I am.

I scatter the thought before guilt lands on my expression. “I’ll answer.” I level the vizier with a cool stare. “I didn’t see Hastin in the palace on the night of the attack.”

Vizier Gyan leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Did you see Rajah Tarek’s body?”

Brother Shaan lifts his hand to gain the council’s attention. “The kindred lost her husband on her wedding night. Upon fleeing the warlord, she searched for Prince Ashwin and came here to join him. Her devotion to the empire is undeniable.”

No one contests him, though the council’s blatant disapproval of my fleeing Vanhi remains evident in their frowns.

“One last question.” Vizier Gyan returns his meddling stare to me. “Where is the Zhaleh?”

Finally, a question I have rehearsed an answer for.

“I don’t know,” I say, reciting the reply I practiced with Deven in case the rebels caught me. “Tarek had it for years. The book must still be in Vanhi.”

“Very well,” the sultan clips out. “Vizier Gyan, proceed with the other matters.”

The vizier aims his disgruntled glowering face at me, instead of at the sultan, for cutting his interrogation short and then tugs down his long sleeves in preparation of the shift in topics. An emblem is sewn onto the lapel of his uniform jacket, the land symbol. Is he a Trembler?

Prince Ashwin’s even voice sounds beside me. “What news do you have, Vizier?”

“I have the latest report on the encampments,” he replies, shuffling the parchment papers before him. “Conditions are holding, but we are receiving more refugees every day. We’re working to improve their access to clean water and expand the dining tents.”

“When can Prince Ashwin and I visit the camps?” I ask.

“Your presence will slow our improvement,” replies the vizier. “It’s best you stay away for now.”

I startle at his brusqueness. “You mean we cannot see our people?”

“Your people are safe,” interjects Sultan Kuval. He folds his hands across his ample belly, his movement too controlled for his testiness. “I’m feeding them, housing them, and protecting them. I will continue to leave my borders open and care for them for the duration of the tournament. You may visit them then.”

After the tournament? I came to Janardan to shift the people’s devotion from me to the prince. How can I do that if I am not allowed to see them? I open my mouth to object, but Brother Shaan shakes his head at me. I clamp my mouth shut and wait for the prince to protest on my behalf. He fiddles with the gold cuff around his wrist and says nothing.

The rest of the meeting is more of the same, Vizier Gyan telling Prince Ashwin what to do and the prince acquiescing. My anger raises by the moment, but I hold my tongue until we are dismissed; then I grab the prince by the arm and drag him out of the war room. Brother Shaan follows close behind, Opal a few steps after him.