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Authors: Miriam Forster

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BOOK: City of a Thousand Dolls
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Josei shook her head. “They are already tearing down the tents,” she said. “Stefan expects the Kildi to be gone by Darkfall.”

How could it be so painful to be exiled from a place you’d never really known?

Tac brushed the hair from Nisha’s face, his fingers giving gentle comfort, then picked her up as if she were made of spun glass.

Josei gave her a pat on the shoulder, and Nisha remembered that Josei’s mother had left her when she was young too.

Their silent sympathy helped, but the sharp pain in Nisha’s chest remained. And as they started the walk back to the City, Nisha was aware of only two things: the steady pace of Tac’s gait, and the silent tears that slipped from her eyelids and soaked the fabric of his shirt.

28

THE KILDI HAD camped in the woods on the far side of the quarry, as far as they could get while staying close enough to water. Tac couldn’t walk quickly with Nisha in his arms, so they moved through the forest at a gentle pace. Josei walked beside them, carrying the bag that the old Kildi woman had given Nisha.

While they walked, Josei told Nisha what had happened since she’d gone missing. Tanaya was safe, but Akash tar’Vey had stopped any investigation into the murders after Sashi had been arrested, and he had kept Matron far too busy to do anything about it.

Josei’s information confirmed what Nisha suspected. If no one came and spoke on Sashi’s behalf, her friend was doomed. And if Matron couldn’t do speak for Sashi, Nisha would.

Finally the stone walls of the City came into sight. As they neared the main gate, Nisha heard a familiar whinny. Her heart jerked. There was Devan’s mare grazing just outside. And behind the horse, as handsome as ever, wearing a gold-embroidered tunic, stood Devan.

A burst of wild, absurd happiness blurred Nisha’s eyes. She’d missed him.

Devan caught sight of them. “Nisha!”

Tac’s arms tensed, and Josei put a hand to her sword. Nisha hastened to reassure them. “It’s all right,” she said. “He’s a friend.”

Josei adjusted the bag on her shoulder and gave Tac an unreadable look. “I’ll put this in your room, Nisha. I’ll find Matron.” Then she vanished through the gate.

“Devan,” Nisha said, more conscious than ever of Tac’s arms supporting her. “What are you doing here so early? Are you here for the masquerade?”

Devan eyed Tac, who stared back at him without expression. “Of course. With the High Prince attending, every young noble in the Imperial Court is coming. Most of them are still on their way, or occupied making ridiculous demands at the inn down the road.” He paused. “Do we have to have the servant?”

“He’s not a servant,” Nisha said. “And yes, we have to have him, unless you want to carry me in by yourself.”

“Don’t think I wouldn’t,” Devan said, concern in his dark eyes. “Do you trust him?”

“Of course,” Nisha said, surprising herself with her own certainty. “Besides, he doesn’t talk.”

“I could use a few servants like that,” Devan said, then dropped his eyes and his flippant manner. “I was so worried about you. The servant picking up scrolls in your place wouldn’t tell me anything. It was like you vanished.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, warmed by his words. “I didn’t mean to worry you. If I could have sent you a message, I would have.” Tac set her down, her back against the wall.

Devan knelt next to her and ran his hand down her cheek. He spoke quietly. “I was just about to go to Matron and demand to know where you were, and damn the consequences. I was afraid you’d gotten into trouble because of us.”

He touched her cast. “Looks like you got into trouble of a different kind. What happened?”

Nisha opened her mouth to tell him everything, but something held her back. Devan would be angry with her that she had gone poking around the questions surrounding Atiy’s, Jina’s, and Lashar’s deaths herself. He probably didn’t even know about them. She knew he couldn’t understand.

“I fell,” she said. “I was exploring the old stone quarry, and I slipped and a rock fell on me. I’ve been in a Kildi camp all week.”

“The Kildi? They’re notorious thieves. They took care of you?” Devan snorted. “I’m surprised you still have all your teeth.”

“They’re not thieves!” Nisha said, stung. “They were very kind people, and they set my foot. They keep goats and weave cashmere.”

Devan laughed. “Well, it would be impolite of me to mock your rescuers. Still, I don’t trust people who can’t stay in one place. Did they have a good healer there, or should I bring you mine?”

“They had a very good healer,” Nisha said. She reached out and took his hand, feeling their fingers intertwine. The story bubbled up in her throat: the Council’s threat, the danger she was in. She needed to trust him. “Devan, I have to tell you something—”

Devan leaned forward and touched her cheek. “You can’t imagine what I thought when someone else came for the mail. I thought you’d disappeared for good, and there were so many things I hadn’t gotten the chance to say.”

“I know,” Nisha said. “And I need to tell you what’s been happening.”

“Nisha, wait. There’s something I want to say.” Devan took a deep breath. “I want to speak for you.”

Nisha’s eyes blurred. “Really?” she whispered. “You do?”

Devan traced the line of her jaw. “I want to marry you, Nisha. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But what about your family?” Nisha asked.

Devan smiled, a smile that wrapped her up like a cashmere blanket, soft and warm. “I’m a second son, Nisha. As long as I marry a girl who won’t embarrass my family, my father won’t care that you’re not trained for the court. I mean, isn’t that what this place is for?” He waved a hand at the City gate. “To make it all right for men to marry outside their caste? Isn’t that why High Prince Sudev is marrying a girl from here?”

Nisha felt a burst of gratitude toward Tanaya. She was doing so much for the rest of the girls. Because of her, Nisha, an abandoned girl with no future, could be with Devan, a nobleman’s son.

Devan settled against the wall and put one arm around her. “So,” he said with a playful lilt to his voice. “How long will your foot take to heal? I want to be able to dance with you at our wedding.”

“Well, that might be difficult,” she said, resting her head on Devan’s chest. “I broke my ankle and my heel.” She said the words with a laugh, inviting him to share the joke. But he was silent.

Nisha wanted to close her eyes, wanted to enjoy the wonderful, bright moment, but instead, Devan pushed her back gently by the shoulders. His eyes searched hers with an intensity she didn’t understand.

“But it will heal, right? You’ll be able to walk normally again?”

A cold fear touched Nisha’s heart. “I’ll be able to walk again, if the foot heals right. But I might have a bit of a limp.”

Devan’s hands were cold on her skin. The light in his eyes faded, replaced by blank understanding. “A limp,” he repeated tonelessly.

“Does it matter?” Nisha asked. The bright happiness faded, and she felt something dark and painful hover over her, waiting.

Devan laughed, the sound breaking into brittle shards like glass. He pushed himself to his feet. Nisha watched him pace, his sharp footsteps the only sound.

“Does it matter?” he repeated, giving the words a hollow, ugly sound. “Does it
matter
? Nisha.”

He dropped to his knees before her, like a criminal begging for mercy. “No one is physically imperfect in the Imperial Court. No one. It is the worst sign of weakness.”

No
, Nisha thought, as if she could stop Devan’s flood of words with just her frantic thoughts.
Please, please don’t do this
.

Devan’s eyes burned into her. “Nisha, my family … we have powerful enemies. Enemies who want my father’s place on the Court of Lesser Princes. Any whisper of weakness could destroy us. I can’t let that happen, Nisha. I can’t let my family down like this.”

A dark, painful thing had come and hit her with the force of the boulder. Nisha felt flattened, smothered, and broken all at the same time. She wanted to scream, to cry, to break something.

“There is something else we could do....” Devan hesitated, then spoke in a rush. “No one cares about our mistresses, since they aren’t for public display. I’m a little young—usually men wait until after they’re married … but it’s been done before.”

Nisha stared at him in horror. She had to swallow before her voice would come. “You want me to be your mistress?”

“Of course.” The light returned to Devan’s face, and he gestured as he spoke. “It’s the perfect solution. No one in the court would ever have to see you, no one will care about your foot, and we can be together, just the two of us. And my father won’t be nearly so furious about me falling in love with an untrained and casteless girl if I don’t marry you.”

Nisha flinched, but Devan didn’t notice.

“I have money, enough for a comfortable apartment for you near the palace. You wouldn’t ever want for anything. There will be servants to shop and clean and cook. I’ll come as often as I can. You’ll be safe there.”

I’ll be trapped there
, Nisha thought. The picture Devan was painting didn’t make her feel safe or loved or wanted. Instead it made her insides twist.

Devan sprang to his feet. “I’ll do it now,” he said. “You won’t even have to go back inside these walls. I’ll speak for you before the Redeeming and take you back to Kamal with me tonight.”

Nisha held out her hand. “Devan, don’t.”

“Don’t?” Devan gave her a look of puzzled hurt and sank back down. “Don’t what? Don’t want you? Don’t try to find a way for us to be together?”

He touched her face, curled his icy hand over her cheek in a way that had, moments before, made her feel special. “I love you. Don’t you want to be with me?”

“Not like that,” Nisha said. “I would die, Devan. Maybe my body wouldn’t, but inside … inside I wouldn’t be the girl you loved anymore. I’d turn into a shell. Please don’t ask me to do that. There has to be another way.”

Devan met her gaze for a moment longer, then looked away. “There is no other way. The Flower caste has always been perfect, Nisha. Only common people are cripples.”

At those words, something inside Nisha broke like a clay pot. All the anger and humiliation leaked out, leaving only a cold emptiness behind.

“Is that how you think of me now? As common?”

“No, of course not,” Devan said. He rose again. “But you have to understand—”

Nisha understood all that she wanted to. “Did you ever care about me?” she asked, the words rising from a deep place inside her and spilling out before she even knew what she was going to say. “Or was it all a game, something to amuse you as long as it was convenient?”

Devan flinched. “
Me?
” he asked. “What about
you
? What were you doing in that quarry anyway? If you had trusted me, if you had waited, I would have come for you. But instead you go wandering around in the forest as if you were a damned Kildi and ruin everything. I can’t take you as a wife, and being my mistress isn’t good enough for you. What am I supposed to do?”

Devan slammed his palm against a tree trunk.

Shame filled Nisha, and she touched the tiger mark under her collarbone. No one wanted her. She wasn’t loyal enough to her family to be a Kildi, and she wasn’t flawless enough to become Flower caste. She didn’t belong to the City, she didn’t belong to Devan, she didn’t belong to the cats, she didn’t belong to anyone, anywhere. Devan’s words flayed her to the bone.

Tac, who’d been standing several paces away and staring into the forest, came back at Devan’s angry shout. He crouched down and took Nisha’s hand. His touch was a lifeline, and she clung to it as Devan stepped closer to her again.

“You tell me, Nisha,” he said. Tac growled what sounded like a warning, but Devan ignored him. “What am I supposed to do with a girl who limps like a beggar’s brat?”

It happened so fast that Nisha barely saw it. One moment she was holding Tac’s hand; the next, Tac had sprung up and backed Devan against a tree. The gleaming point of a dagger rested on the courier’s throat.

The young nobleman’s eyes were wide with fear. “Call him off, Nisha,” he said, his voice cracking. “Please, I’m begging you.”

Nisha wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. But she had no more tears, and it wasn’t that funny. “Let him go, Tac,” she said through dry lips.

Tac lowered the dagger. The look he gave Nisha was one of mixed frustration and grief, as if he had taken her heartbreak and made it his own. Then he spun and punched Devan full in the face.

The nobleman crumpled against the tree. A thin dribble of blood marked the corner of his mouth.

No one moved. From somewhere in the forest, a monkey hooted.

Finally Devan pushed himself up. He carefully brushed the dirt and twigs from his tunic, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped his cut lip.

“I would have given you the world,” he said without looking up. “I would have braved my family’s judgment, all for you. A wife untrained in court ways, they would have accepted given time. But this … I’m sorry, Nisha.”

Then he turned and walked to his horse. Nisha watched him as he led the mount through the open gate of the City, until the flash of his tunic was lost beyond the stone walls. He never looked back.

Tac knelt in front of Nisha. His brown irises held gold flecks in the light, and he raised his eyebrows, asking if she was all right.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Nisha said. “But I’m not sorry you did.” She took a ragged breath. “Will you take me to Sashi now? Please?”

The young man shrugged his broad shoulders. Then he picked up Nisha as if she were an injured fawn and carried her inside the estate walls.

29

SASHI WAS STANDING by the window, her dark hair falling over her face, when Nisha pushed open the door from Tac’s arms.

At the sound of footsteps, Sashi turned her face toward them. “Who is it?” she asked dully.

Nisha gestured for Tac to set her down. Her left foot felt sore and bruised, but it held her weight. She clung to Tac’s arm to avoid falling over. “Sashi, it’s me.”

Sashi’s face hardened. “I don’t want to talk to you.” She threw the words at Nisha like they were daggers.

BOOK: City of a Thousand Dolls
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