The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen #3)(76)
“Kali, what did my mother say?”
I decide against telling him that Mathura disapproves of our closeness, and instead, I summarize her opinion of me. “She thinks I’m foolish for not wanting to be a rani for the rest of my life.”
“My mother had a different experience in the palace than you. She wasn’t . . . valued as you and the other ranis were. To her, becoming a rani was the best life any courtesan could dream of. But she believes in you, Kali. And she’s right. You’re the rani the people need.” Deven brings the back of my hand to his lips, kissing the symbol of the kindred. “But you aren’t foolish for wishing for more. You have a right to your own dreams. That’s why I left without saying good-bye. I was angry, but I also wanted you to make up your own mind.” His heartbeat pounds against our chests. “Truthfully, I thought you’d choose Ashwin—er, your throne.”
“I care for Ashwin like family, but I fell in love with you before I was a rani.” I lay my hand upon his flat stomach. “The day will come when Ashwin will take his own wives, and I’ll step down as the empire’s kindred.”
Deven smooths my hair from my shoulder. “And then?”
“And then . . . I want a future with you. A future of our own making.”
He slides down the bed until we are eye level and strokes my hip. My nerves stir and tingle, hypersensitive to every glancing touch. His beard grazes my chin, his lips a head tilt away. “We have the same dream.”
He throws the sun-scented blanket over our heads. I stretch out against him, and he kisses me until my limbs quiver and my skin burns for more. Silky sheets, wet lips, and needy hands overrun my senses. We explore each other in ways we were never allowed to and never dared. No fears temper our desires. We set our dreams free, soaring to limitless heights of fulfilled wishes.
Deven tries to shift away, but I pull him closer. “Don’t go yet,” I whisper.
He kisses me long and slow, melting me into my pillow, and then sits up and tugs on his trousers and white tunic. The baggy sleeves hang off his arms, and the low neckline reveals the hard cuts of his chest.
He looks back at me. “It’s difficult to leave you.”
I grab the hair at the back of his head and drag his lips over mine. When I let go, hunger shines from his eyes, and I know I can coax him to slide back under the covers with me.
My door to the corridor swings opens. Giggles move across the room, and then Shyla, Eshana, and Parisa pile on the mattress with us. Asha strolls in behind them carrying a meal tray, a bandage wound around one hand. The ranis are covered in various scrapes and bruises. Parisa’s broken ribs are the worst injury. Bandages wrap around her torso beneath her sari. I do not miss what a mercy it is that we all survived.
“Morning, ladies,” Deven says too brightly for my taste.
Parisa assesses the flattering fit of Deven’s loose tunic. “Don’t you mean good afternoon? The kindred has kept you preoccupied.”
“Other way around, actually.” Deven galls me by adding a wink.
Eshana fans herself at his suggestive tone. “The prince is looking for you, and we need to ask Kalinda a few questions.” Her pointed stare is a push for Deven to leave.
“General Naik forgot to tell us how handsome the prince is,” Parisa adds.
“Or how kind,” says Shyla. Her baby girl, Rehan, sits on her lap and sucks one of her mother’s few fingers on her maimed left hand. “He kissed Rehan on the head when he met her.”
“My apologies.” Deven taps my nose in farewell. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat.”
I sit up, clutching the blanket around me. “Do you want me to come with you and find out what the prince needs?” I am not dressed, but I can be in a moment. These women have just learned I am a Burner. I am nervous about what they will say.
Deven tosses one of the fallen bed pillows at me, and I catch it. “Stay and enjoy your friends.” His eyes twinkle, knowing I would rather go with him, but Eshana and Parisa start to natter about Ashwin’s dashing chin, and Deven slips out.
“The prince is even more attractive than Tarek, and—Oh, Kindred.” Parisa picks up my hand and clucks her tongue. “Your nails are ghastly!”
Eshana runs her fingers down my tresses. “But she still has the comeliest hair.”
“Perhaps the kindred wants to get out of bed,” suggests Asha, folding her arms over her chest.
“Doesn’t Asha look pretty?” Shyla notes of my servant. “We had a lot of free time while we were trapped in the Tigress Pavilion. It took some persuading, but Asha finally removed that hideous veil and let us do her nails. Even her toenails are painted!”
“Asha has always been beautiful,” I reply, and her color turns as red as her nails.
“You could have told us you’re a Burner,” Shyla says, altering the tone of the mood.
I grip Rehan’s little hand in mine to avoid meeting their gazes. “I was afraid you’d hate me.”
Eshana throws her arms around me, followed by a more careful Parisa protecting her sore ribs. “We could never hate you, Kalinda,” Eshana says “Your rank tournament brought peace to the palace.” I jolt, certain I had done the opposite. “Your victory brought the courtesans and ranis together. We’re sister warriors fighting alongside each other now instead of against one another.”