The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen #3)(4)

He tenses, his voice strained. “I’m trying, Kali. I have a lot on my mind.”

More than Brother Shaan’s passing wears on him. His mother and brother, Mathura and Brac, were stranded at the border between the empire and the sultanate. Two Galers were sent to find them but have yet to return. Each day we wait increases Deven’s angst.

I cup his smooth cheek. “I know you are.”

He leans into my touch. His features are an appealing mishmash of hard planes and pliable smoothness, like his two main roles: soldier and dedicated worshiper of the Parijana faith. I bring my lips to his. He tugs me closer, and his sandalwood scent fills me up. His body heat skims mine but does not soak in or alleviate the cold inside me. I disregard whatever that may imply and trail my fingers up his neck. Hot need builds at the base of my throat, yet the frost within me perseveres. I pull away, breathless and shivering.

Deven’s soft brown eyes study me. “What’s wrong?”

“I . . .” I don’t know. “I should lie down.”

I use my cane to stand, but Deven sweeps me into his arms. My feet flail out, and my hands fly up to his neck. “Put me down!”

“All right,” he says evenly and then starts for the wheelhouse.

I pull the skirt of my petticoat and sari close beneath me. “You said you’d put me down.”

“I will . . . on your cot.”

“But I can walk!”

Deven calls ahead. “Coming through!”

A chair blocks our path. Indah and Pons dine on a late breakfast of mashed fruit and currants. Pons’s hair hangs down his back; the top and sides of his head are shaved. He grabs Indah’s seat and slides her out of our way. I blush at their open stares. The Aquifier and the Galer are in love, yet they do not show it with public demonstrations. I sense Pons would if Indah were willing, but she is private about her affections.

Deven carries me through the open wheelhouse door and lies down with me, our bodies filling the cot. “See? That wasn’t so awful.”

I sink against him. “I could burn your nose off for that.”

“You like my nose.”

“I do,” I say, kissing the tip.

He slides his rough palm under my blouse and across my bare back. His touch warms me in places Ashwin’s kiss could never reach. I press my lips to Deven’s again, indulging in the sensation of his body tight against mine. My fingers creep across his muscled shoulders, but his jacket prevents them from meeting skin, constricting my touch. Deven does not stop kissing me while he undoes his front buttons, preparing to take off his jacket.

The door swings open, and Natesa pulls up short. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” Her eyes sparkle at finding us entwined. “We’ve reached the river mouth. A Lestarian ship is waiting.”

Deven nuzzles my ear. “Someday I’ll have you to myself,” he says in a husky rumble.

A warm chill courses down my neck. “I’ll hold you to that.” I kiss him once more and sit up. Dizziness whams me from rising too fast, and I sag forward.

“You should lie down,” Deven says, rebuttoning his jacket.

“I’m fine. Just give me a moment.” After a few more breaths, my vision clears.

Deven places his hand on my shoulder. “Kali, you really should stay here.”

“I said I’m fine,” I snap. I know I am weaker than usual. He need not constantly remind me. “Natesa, please hand me my cane.”

Deven grabs the cane and thrusts it at me. Natesa shrinks away and tiptoes out. Deven is worried about my health, but I have greater concerns.

“I have to greet the Lestarians,” I explain. “Our first impression must reflect well on the empire.”

Indah assured Ashwin and me that we can rely on Datu Bulan, the ruler of the Southern Isles, for aid, but we are placing a lot of faith in a stranger. The Voider is positioned at the head of the most powerful army in the land. We can only hope the datu will recognize the threat he poses and join us to stop him.

I stand and temper my frustration. “I need to go, Deven.”

“You also need to take care of yourself.” He reaches for a stray hair against my cheek. I swipe it away before he can, and he draws back, hurt.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. Embracing my throne means accepting my responsibility to assist Ashwin. “We need to keep our distance now that—”

“No need to explain.” Deven adjusts the cuffs of his jacket with short, irritated jerks. “It would reflect poorly on the empire for the kindred to favor her guard.”

“It’s only for a little while.” I seek out his understanding, but his expression remains defensive.

Ashwin appears at the door. “Kalinda,” he says tentatively, gauging Deven’s scowl and oppositional posture. “Indah is asking for us.”

“I’m coming,” I say, leaning into my cane. Even though Deven is upset with me, he hovers close, as though expecting me to topple.

Anu, please don’t let my legs give out or I’ll never hear the end of it.

By gods’ virtue, I cross the wheelhouse on my own, and Ashwin leads the way.





2

DEVEN

I grab my sword from behind the wheelhouse door and follow the click-clack of Kali’s cane. Since sustaining her injuries, her already tall, lean frame has thinned to frailty. She stoops over like a crane, her healing leg quaking from exertion.