Third Daughter (The Dharian Affairs, Book One) (9 page)

The door was locked.

Her movement caught Janak’s attention. “Where do you think you’re going, your royal eminence?” Janak’s usual lack of respect for her title arched a little higher. His insolence would wear thin, on this very train ride, she could tell already.

Aniri wrenched the door once more, but it wouldn’t give. “I would pay my future husband a visit. The official courtship period has begun; I’m well within my rights to request an appointment. And I have several questions for the young prince.” She dared Janak with her eyes. He could sulk all he liked, but if she were to be a spy, he couldn’t be hovering over her every moment of the day.

Janak narrowed his eyes but didn’t argue. “I hope your most royal highness will permit me to fulfill my duties as she fulfills hers.”

If she were to have any hope of success in this mission, it would make sense to have Janak at her back. In Jungali, the threats would be more substantial than urgent kisses from a courtesan. Perhaps she should make peace with Janak now, before they reached the rugged mountain provinces. She tilted her head to him, very slightly. “Prudence was always your strength, Janak.”

“And your weakness, Princess.”

So much for peace overtures. “Will you request an audience with the prince or must I do it myself?”

He nodded curtly and strode to a speaker box at the rear of the train car. While he navigated the niceties of arranging a meeting with the prince, Aniri studied the train door and its simple lock. Priya appeared by her side, a smile sly on her face. She pulled a pin from her hair and bent it until it snapped in two.

Aniri raised her eyebrows. “And what do you plan to do with that?”

“One should always make friends with whomever one can, my lady. One never knows what new skills one might learn.” She bent to the door’s small keyhole, slipping one-half of the pin in and holding it taut, while working the other inside. Two clicks occurred in quick succession, and the door cracked open.

Aniri shook her head and grinned. “And which friend of yours taught you to pick locks?”

Priya tucked the two half-pins back into her hair. “That, my lady, is a secret I am not at liberty to share.”

She flashed a mischievous grin and slid open the door. It disappeared into a pocket, and the sound of train wheels biting into the tracks rushed in. A gush of air lifted Aniri’s loose hair into a writhing mass around her head, bringing a whiff of earthen countryside mixed with the bitter coal smoke of the engine. The walkway between the cars swayed and bucked. Her traveling clothes—a full corset and jacket over her tight silk skirt—were ill-suited for traversing it, but she would manage. Priya was more sensibly dressed in a long jacket over trousers. At Aniri’s hesitation, Priya quickly stepped ahead to repeat her lock-picking skills on the prince’s door, and Aniri followed after, grasping the cool metal railings to keep her footing as her hair whipped more furiously about her. As the prince’s door slid it open, Janak’s curse and boot-pounding steps sounded from the car behind them. He appeared at Aniri’s back, but he had no time to complain before Prince Malik’s guard rushed the prince’s door, blocking Priya’s access with his massive size.

For her part, Priya seemed undaunted, looking up haughtily and saying loudly enough to be heard over the substantial train clacking, “The Princess Aniri of Dharia requests an audience with Prince Malik of the Jungali Provinces.”

He frowned down at her, appearing unsure what to make of the spunky girl in the flapping silk jacket or the entourage behind her.

“Farid!” the prince’s voice carried over the clattering. “Don’t make the princess’s handmaiden stand out between the cars. I’m sure she’s not too much of a threat.”

Farid kept his frown, but he didn’t seem the kind of guard who was troubled by complicated thoughts, so he quickly stepped to one side. Even so, there wasn’t room for even slender Priya to slip past him without brushing the barbarian’s expansive chest, all the more imposing for his riveted leather chest straps and flintlock holstered at his side. Priya fluttered her hands at him, as if he were an enormous fly she could shoo away. He bumbled backward on unsteady clumping boots. Aniri struggled mightily not to laugh. The narrow entrance to the prince’s train car was now clear, and the three of them shuffled inside. Janak glowered at her, then closed the door, dropping a curtain of silence around them.

The prince’s train car had been modified much as Aniri’s had, clearing space for the desk at which he sat. The car was less musty than hers, a fact she found annoying. Or perhaps the sweep of air from the open door had freshened it. A stray strand of her hair drifted in the residual breeze, and she hastened to smooth it down. The wind between the cars had probably left her less than royal-looking. The prince peered up from the papers he was studying and seemed startled to see Aniri.

He rose hastily to his feet. “Princess Aniri.” He seemed indecisive for a moment as to what to do with the papers in his hands, then set them down on the desk and came around to greet her. “This is an unexpected surprise. I thought your handmaiden was simply requesting a visit.”

“If this is an inconvenient time,” Aniri said, “I can return later.”

“No, not at all.” He regained his composure with a small smile, pressing his hands together and giving a slight bow. “I will always have time for the future Queen of Jungali.” He gathered a pair of plush, ruby-red embroidered chairs, arranging them to face one another. They appeared to have been scavenged from another car because they didn’t match the blue-and-gold brocade of the rest of the room. As the prince gestured her to sit, he added, “I must say, I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

Aniri frowned, afraid she had already misstepped. “I had assumed, with the marriage arranged, that our courtship would begin right away. At least, that is Dharian custom. Is it not the same in Jungali?”

“Our courtship?” the prince said, like he had forgotten that part of the arrangement. “Yes, of course. Although in Jungali, courtship is usually chaperoned by family members.”

Aniri became suddenly aware of their audience in the tight confines of the train car. Janak and Prince Malik’s personal guard, Farid, were in some kind of bluster standoff at the rear of the car. Farid rested his hand on his weapon, while Janak simply glared. Farid likely had no idea Janak’s hands were at least as lethal as Farid’s gun. Priya beamed, unabashedly listening in.

“I suppose we will have to make do with the chaperones we have,” Aniri said stiffly.

The prince took the chair opposite her, his face alight with curiosity. “I imagine we will have to break more than one custom to make this arrangement work.”

Aniri noticed he now had two small gold hoop earrings, one in each ear. He was wise not to have worn them in her mother’s court, where the men did not wear jewelry—which only made her wonder what other things he had wisely kept hidden.

“I hope you are comfortable in your train car,” the prince continued. “Is there anything I can request for you? The train staff seem quite happy to accommodate my needs so far, and I’m sure they would be doubly so for their beloved princess.”

“I’m quite... comfortable, thank you.” She was far from comfortable, but there wasn’t anything the train staff could do about that.

Prince Malik had a small smile on his face. “Does the princess have any further demands she wishes to make?”

“No demands, simply a request.” Aniri met the prince’s slightly bemused expression with enough seriousness to make it fade from his face. “I’m afraid my education about the provinces of Jungali is woefully inadequate to the task of becoming Queen. I had hoped you might enlighten me on the important issues of the day, if you can spare the time.” She glanced at the papers layered on his desk.

“Of course.” His pale eyes measured her for a moment, not unfriendly but in an appraising sense, as if he wasn’t quite sure if Aniri’s stated purpose was her true one. Or maybe she was just squirming because her subterfuges until now had been limited to sneaking out of the palace at night to meet Devesh. When Prince Malik spoke, his voice was softer, meant mostly for her, even if the others could be counted on to overhear. “You’ve made a great sacrifice for this peace-brokering arrangement, even more than I had suspected earlier. We will make sure it is a peace worthy of the price you have paid, Aniri.”

Her face heated up. Of course the prince had witnessed Devesh’s desperate display of affection at the train station and the ensuing drama. That incident would feed the gossips for weeks and would no doubt complicate their efforts to forge, or at least appear to forge, a peace between their nations. It was foolish of Devesh on many levels, but Aniri was quite sure he knew all of that before he did it. In spite of her words, she knew Devesh was no fool.

“Peace is my hope, Prince Malik,” Aniri said, conviction ringing true in her voice. The only way through this would be to work as fervently for peace as the earnest prince seemed to want. “Which is why I need to know more about your homeland before we arrive.”

Prince Malik settled back on the tightly cushioned chair. “Well, there are four provinces—”

“Bajir, Mahet, Rajan, and Sik.” Aniri listed them rapidly. “My education is not so woeful as that.”

He smiled. “My apologies.”

The train car swayed, and her tight traveling clothes conspired against keeping her balance on the stiff chair. She gripped the plush arms to steady herself. “What I need to know, Prince Malik, is the temper of your people. What will they think of our arrangement? I can’t help but wonder if they will accept a Dharian as their Queen.” She imagined the barbarians were awed and impressed by Dharian wealth, but she truly wondered what they would think of her, a Dharian princess, coming amongst them. She tried to banish images of her head on a pike being paraded amongst savage villagers.

Malik’s smile fled, and the shadowed look he perpetually wore returned. “I worry about that myself. My home province of Bajir, especially, still mourns their Queen, my mother. While her rule was strong, the four generals who command the military in each of the provinces grow increasingly bold under my reign. You will notice that I am still a prince?”

Aniri frowned. “I had assumed you had not held an ascension ceremony out of respect for your late mother.”

“That is partially true.” Malik cast his gaze down to his hands, which had found each other and gripped in his lap. He seemed to force them to release, then looked up. “But the truth is I need the support of the generals to formally ascend to the throne. Or a wedding to a new Queen would make ascension automatic.”

“I see,” Aniri said. “Will the generals then have to support the marriage?”

“By our tradition, yes,” he said. “In reality? Had I married any of the eligible ladies in one of the four provinces, it would have sown discord among the generals, thinking I was preferring one over the other with my rule. Even worse, if I had picked someone from my home province of Bajir.”

“So the very fact that I am not Jungali,” Aniri said, “is what makes this marriage possible.”

“In a way, yes,” he said with a smile. “The generals will see this for what it is—a strategic bond with a powerful ally. They cannot do anything but accept it at its face: something intended to unite all the Jungali provinces.”

Aniri frowned. “And yet you’re worried.”

“It is the people I am most troubled about,” Malik said. “Winning their hearts will be your most difficult task, Princess. One I hope you will be willing to take on.”

“I will do everything in my power to do so, I assure you.” Strangely, she felt the force of conviction behind that statement. She needed the facade of the impending marriage to hold, to give her time to find the weapon. And she would prefer not to have her head on a pike as well. “These generals, do they each command their own military? I hear the Jungali are fiercely loyal. Are you not concerned that they will incite their own people against me?” Aniri tipped her head toward the prince. “Against
us
, rather than taking the more obvious route of challenging you directly?”

Malik smiled broadly. “The princess is even more astute than I had assumed.” Aniri wasn’t quite sure whether that was a compliment or not. Devesh certainly never thought strategy, political or military, was ever her strength. “I am concerned,” he continued, “which is why I’ve already scheduled an announcement of our engagement in front of the populace in my home province, quite literally as soon as we arrive. I wish to waste no time in introducing you to my people. A formal engagement party can follow in two weeks, the wedding in four, according to custom.” He tipped his head to her. “According to Jungali custom.”

“Dharian custom is the same,” Aniri said. “Should we perhaps travel to the other provinces as well? A goodwill tour of sorts? That is, if your customs allow it.” Traveling seemed like a better idea the more she thought of it. She might gain access to the prince’s inner sanctum, if she was lucky, but she doubted he hid the flying weapon under his bed. Getting away from the capital could bring an opportunity for more investigation.

Malik raised his eyebrows. “We can certainly accommodate traveling the provinces, if your majesty wishes it. Although...” He frowned again.

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to alarm you, princess, but...” He hesitated again. “I would just want to ensure your safety before planning trips around the frozen landscape of the provinces.”

Aniri swallowed. Her safety wasn’t from the landscape but the generals, she suspected. “Perhaps we should wait to see how things develop, then.”

Malik took a breath. “I think that would be best.”

Aniri rose from her chair. “I’ll leave you to your planning then, Prince Malik.” She made a small bow as he hastily arose from his own seat. “I apologize for the sudden intrusion.”

“Anytime, princess, please. We are, after all, courting.” He smiled, but the earnest look quickly took over. “And your counsel on these matters is greatly appreciated.”

Aniri bowed again and turned to retreat from Prince Malik’s car. She needed to think about how to win over a barbarian people she knew nothing about.