The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen #3)(18)

“Mathura!” I hug her back, inhaling her jasmine scent. Her dark-brown hair is tied back in a braid, the customary style for an imperial courtesan. Her sari is travel worn, but she still appears stately.

Rohan sits off to the side on the terrace. Dishes of food are set before the young Galer, who is known for his big appetite, but Rohan slumps in his chair and touches none of it. His older sister, Opal, is not here. I do not see Brac either . . .

Deven races into the room, halts abruptly while surveying the chamber, and then flies at his mother. They embrace as tight as they can.

“You’re thinner too.” Mathura pats her son’s cheek. “And you need a shave.”

He chuckles—one of my favorite sounds. “I’ve missed you too, Mother.” His scarlet uniform jacket hangs open, and a day’s worth of facial hair covers his jawline. I love him this way best, when he is in between a smooth face and a full beard, neither done up nor undone.

Ambassador Chitt barges into the chamber, his chest heaving as though he has run the length of the island. He walks to Mathura, never taking his sight off her. “I was preparing to embark when I heard of your arrival.”

Mathura extends her hand, and he cups it in his. “It’s been a long time,” she says.

They know each other? I watch Deven for an explanation, but he is unreadable.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” Chitt murmurs, and Mathura’s cheeks pinken. I cannot recall if I have ever seen her blush. “Where’s your other son?”

Deven snaps his chin sideways and scans the room. His gaze catches mine momentarily and then barrels onward as though I were a stone he kicked out of his way. “Mother, where’s Brac?”

Mathura tenses in anticipation of his reaction. “I meant to tell you as soon as you walked in. Brac isn’t here.”

“Where is he?” Deven’s low question slices, an order that must be met.

Rohan answers, his voice abysmal. “Brac and Opal were flying near the Tarachand border when their wing flyer was shot down. We tried to circle back, but the demon rajah’s army was upon them. Opal sent a message on the wind for us to go. We lost sight of her, and I haven’t heard anything since.”

Deven freezes. The same dread locks me in place. I fear for Deven and his family, but even more so for Rohan. He and Opal were orphaned after their Galer mother was executed in a bhuta raid. They have only each other. My chest squeezes in empathy. His dependence on his sister reminds me how much I relied on Jaya.

Ashwin pushes up from his desk. “The imperial army is at the border? We were told the demon rajah is still in Iresh.”

“Our informants were misled,” Pons replies, coming into the chamber with Indah. “I flew over Iresh. The city has been abandoned. Only the Tarachandian civilians and a few soldiers remain. The imperial army will cross into the empire soon.”

“How is that possible?” Ashwin sputters out. “Your scouts said—”

“They were listening at a good distance,” Pons explains. “They heard travelers leaving Iresh and assumed they were Janardanians fleeing.”

“Was my brother captured by the demon rajah?” Deven asks, still motionless.

Mathura flourishes her hands in chagrin. “We don’t know.”

The navy is useless now. Their ships cannot reach a landlocked army. “Pons, how long until the army reaches Vanhi?” I ask.

“At the rate they’re marching, six days.”

Ashwin pounds his fists against the desk and hunches over, startling Rohan. “I need to speak with the general and the kindred alone. Everyone else is dismissed.”

Indah and Pons leave without a word. Rohan slogs out after them, his breakfast gone cold.

Deven embraces his mother again. “Brac will be all right.”

Mathura lays her cheek against his shoulder. “I lost him once. I cannot lose him again.”

Brac was presumed dead until a few moons ago, a cover-up for his real mission of joining the rebels. He worked with Hastin to unseat Rajah Tarek but gave up that life when he reunited with his family.

Deven holds Mathura for a long moment. “I’ll find him, Mother. I swear it.”

She releases him, and I fight back the urge to take her place in his arms. I do not need his comfort; I want to comfort him.

Chitt offers Mathura his elbow, and they go. Only Deven, Ashwin, and I remain. Given our quarrel last night, it is a wonder we are all in the same room together without arguing.

Ashwin waits until the door shuts and extends a letter to us. “Late last night, I received a message from the bhuta warlord. Hastin has requested a meeting with the kindred and me.”

Of course Hastin knows where we are. He has informants all over the continent.

Deven demonstrates no inclination to take the letter, so I do and read the warlord’s message aloud. “‘I would like to propose an accord. Meet me in Samiya to discuss uniting against the demon rajah.’”

My heart yanks hard in my chest. I have not returned home since Tarek claimed me, but I dream of the mountains often. Jaya is always in my dreams, as is Deven. “Why the temple?”

“Samiya is a neutral site,” replies Ashwin. “Hastin wouldn’t dare attack us on sacred ground.”

“You’ve clearly never met the bhuta warlord,” Deven retorts.