Alok scoffed. “You’d probably get by pretty well in life answering to me.”
“You know, you sound like someone I met during my mission.”
“And from the look on your face, this is a person who didn’t make it into your notes back to me?” His voice was rather accusatory.
Kunal chuckled. “Oh, definitely not. She wouldn’t have liked that.”
“She?” Alok grinned, slow. “So you finally put that face to good use.”
“Not that again.”
Alok shrugged as if to indicate he couldn’t be blamed.
Kunal looked at his friend, his wide-eyed gaze, the perpetual smile that graced his face even when he frowned.
It was a familiar face. Home.
“Alok, I wanted to say—”
But Laksh had been familiar too. Kunal took another look, a longer one at his friend, assessing him like he would a battle plan. His friend looked a little worse for the wear.
Alok would be different—Kunal wouldn’t take him for granted, wouldn’t miss those signs. As it was, Kunal would need help at the Fort. Needed someone to confide in about Esha and the Blades and everything that had happened over the past two moons.
“Yes?” Alok prompted.
A memory of Laksh’s face, of him holding a knife to Kunal’s throat, stopped him cold.
“Nothing important. Glad to see you.”
Alok gave him a sidelong glance. “You too, Kunal. You too.”
Esha gently lowered her feet to the floor as shades of violet streamed through the thin canvas of the tents. She tested her movements, putting weight onto one leg and then the other. Her legs worked fine. A sharp pain stabbed into her as she accidentally twisted. It was just her entire torso that burned.
It had been a few days since Kunal had left, trying to make it to the Fort before the end of the moon cycle. If he missed his commission day, he wouldn’t be inducted into the Senap guard. Esha didn’t want to admit it, but she already missed his presence. She had spent the time since he left confined to her bed, alternating between replaying their goodbye and planning out the steps of her mission in Gwali.
The Sun Mela would be scheduled and set for them, with parties and competitions and events. Esha would have to make friends quickly with the palace staff and find the best ways in and out, as well as be at court. Esha took another step, her body stiff from disuse. She had only gotten to the front of her tent when the flap blew open and Arpiya almost ran into her.
“And what do you think you’re doing out of bed?” Arpiya demanded.
“That isn’t really a bed. It’s hard as stone, and I’m sick to death of being cooped up in here.”
“I don’t care. Get back in there. I’m under strict orders to keep you rested. Do you want the wound to heal improperly and then to start bleeding through your sari during one of the Mela dance performances?”
“No,” Esha mumbled.
Arpiya gave her a look, her hands on her waist. “Then get back in bed. If Harun hears—”
“If Harun hears about what?” a deep voice asked. Harun’s head ducked into the tent.
“She got out of bed,” Arpiya accused.
Esha shrugged. “Would you expect anything else of me?”
Harun smiled. “No.”
Arpiya let out a deep, weary sigh.
“It’s okay, Arpiya. I came to get her anyway,” Harun said. He came in and took Esha’s arm, holding her up. His arm snaked around her waist, and despite her grumbles of protest, she sagged against him. The scent of almond oil, of Harun, enveloped her, and she felt herself relax. She’d forgotten what it was like to be back at home—or the closest approximation of it.
Arpiya came up on the other side of her.
“I can walk just fine,” Esha said in protest. Arpiya glared at her.
“I’m sure you can. But knowing you, you’ll reach for something or try to lift something, and then we’ll be back to stitching you up.”
Esha groaned but couldn’t help the surge of warmth in her chest at being so well looked after. Cared for.
“Fine, but you can only help me out to the campfire. I’ll struggle from there. I don’t want the squads to worry.”
Esha thought she heard Arpiya mutter “Too late.” The three of them somehow got out of the tent together and to the campfire. Arpiya moved away, already focused on something new, but Harun held on to Esha.
Esha looked up at him. “So why did you come to get me, defying your own order?”
His face broke into a grin. “I have something to show you.”
Arpiya bounced on her toes. “Oh! I have something too. I’ll be right back.” She ran away before either of them could respond.
“What is this thing?” Esha asked, letting Harun guide her through the camp.
“You’ll see.”
Harun kept his arm around her, and she glanced up at him. “You can let go now.”
“How do I know you won’t collapse?”
“It’ll take more than a knife wound to knock me out of the game,” she said. His hand tightened around her waist, pulling her close to him for a second, before he let go.
“All right, my little Viper. I’ll let you stumble across the rest of camp to assuage your ego.”
Esha scoffed, waving a hand. “I’ll need more than that for my ego.”
Harun laughed but stood aside, walking slowly next to her. He led her into his tent, evident from the regal lion crest and numerous red-and-gold clad guards outside, and toward the back, where a large mahogany table stood proud. A long scroll of paper, stained from age at the edges, was unfurled across the table, little figurines of silver on top.
“Remember that map we always envied in Father’s war room?” Harun bounded across the room.
Of course she did. That’s where she’d spent many a morning after archery practice with Harun, tracing her finger along the map and imagining all the wondrous places her father had gone, might have gone if he were still alive.
“Well, I stole it,” he said. A childish smile lit up his face as he waggled his eyebrows at her. She laughed, mostly at the expression on his face, one she hadn’t seen in years.
“And your father didn’t notice?”
“By the time he does, I’ll be long gone.” He grinned. “Plus, we have more use for it right now. It was just hanging there, dusty and unused. Thought I would give it a new home for a bit.”
“Obviously,” Esha said, grinning back. Harun had been a serious young boy—the events of his childhood had made him that way—but when he acted out, it had been legendary. Clearly, he hadn’t grown out of that yet. She was glad for it.
He sat down at the table, chattering with excitement about something on the map. Esha smiled and nodded, knowing she should pay attention. But really, she was just happy to be back and with her friend.
The mission to kill General Hotha had taken up nearly three moons of her life, and it had been shadowed with loneliness and fear, wondering if she’d make it back alive to even see her team again or if she’d die alone in Jansa. Meeting Kunal had changed all of that, and yet, Harun and the team were her family. It was a different sort of comfort.
Esha drew closer to him, looking at the map he had laid out on the table. She peered over his shoulder to get a better look when Harun turned suddenly to say something. Their eyes met, their faces only a hairbreadth apart. His eyes flickered down to her lips, and a memory of their last kiss flashed across her mind. It had been before her mission, on a rare cool night in Mathur on a balcony of the Palace, the river shimmering below them.