Tiger's Promise (9 page)

Epilogue

Things didn’t exactly go as planned. Hajari and a few of my father’s men stole me
away from the palace the next night and took me back to Bhreenam, where Kishan met
me with open arms. “What’s happening?” I asked.

“Ren proved difficult. He wouldn’t cooperate so he’s being brought here. We’re to
greet him in the main hall when he arrives. It’s not what we intended to happen, but
Ren left us without any other option. Your father says we’ll have to confront him
openly and that he believes Ren will be more amenable if he sees the three of us as
a united front. My brother is technically your father’s prisoner, but he assures me
he only means to threaten Ren until he gives us what he wants, then he’ll sign a new
betrothal agreement.”

“But—”

“Ah, there you are, my dear. If you will excuse us, Kishan, I will escort my daughter
to her chamber to rest and change before your brother arrives.”

“Of course,” Kishan said and squeezed my hand as my father pulled me away. When we
arrived in my chamber, I let out a small cry when I saw Isha waiting for me. She was
much thinner, and her face looked tired, but she was alive, and at that moment, it
was blessing enough.

Pointing to the bed, my father said, “You’ll be dressing the part. I expect you to
look your best, and as such, you will not adorn yourself in your typical veil. I want
you to be a distraction for both brothers. If you’re very lucky, I’ll let one of them
live. But should my plans fail”—he stepped forward and cupped my face, forcing me
to look into his eyes—“everyone you love will suffer. Do you understand, Yesubai?”

“I do.”

“Good. I will send Hajari to fetch you. Make your preparations.”

When the door closed, Isha rushed forward. “Oh, my darling girl!”

“Isha, I’m so frightened! He’s going to kill them!”

“Don’t you think about that. Just focus on one thing at a time. Let’s get you dressed.”

Two hours later, I swept through the long hall with bells tinkling at my waist and
ankles. My hair was wound with gold and jewels. I’d never worn it uncovered before,
and I felt naked without my veil, but I kept my shoulders back and my head held high.
Kishan stepped out from behind a pillar.

“Yesubai,” he gasped. “You look…you’re beautiful!”

“Thank you. My father selected my clothing.”

“Perhaps he means to allow us to marry immediately.”

I gave him a small smile. “Perhaps.”

“I promise you, Yesubai, we will find a way to be together. There is nothing I wouldn’t
do for you.”

He touched his forehead to mine, and I boldly cupped his cheek with my palm. “I know,”
I whispered softly.

Even if my father did allow Kishan to live, I knew it was only a matter of time until
he destroyed him and annihilated the small, fragile flicker of love that had grown
between us. As I took Kishan’s arm and he led me into the throne room, I knew it would
be only a matter of time until he learned of what I had done, and he’d hate me for
it. In trying to save the members of the Rajaram family, I’d only ended up chaining
them to me so they’d suffer my same fate.

There was no way out. As I strode toward the dais where my father sat, I felt as if
I walked to the gallows. The glimmering sparkle of hope had blinded me to reality,
and now I sat next to my father, being swallowed up in it. When Dhiren was brought
in, the certainty of my desperate situation practically crushed me.

He’d been sorely beaten but that didn’t surprise me. If Kishan was shocked, it didn’t
register on his face. Ren was interrogated, mocked, and belittled by my father. That
he was allowing his true nature to show through the carefully contrived diplomat he
preferred to display meant that he indeed did not intend for the princes to live.

Shame filled me, and though it broke my heart to watch the tragedy unfold before my
eyes, I was helpless to do anything to stop it. My father could not be beaten. I knew
it and yet I’d deceived myself into thinking I’d find a way. I was a fool.

Through a mental fog, I heard my father say, “Perhaps you require a demonstration
of my power. Yesubai, come!”

“No!” Dhiren and Kishan shouted together.

Unable to do more than shake my head, I saw my father gather his power to strike.
He was going to kill. I had to do something, but every instinct I had told me to tread
carefully. That my father would not forgive any form of treachery. I was frozen in
place with terror. Then Dhiren said that my father’s poison ran through my blood.
I wondered if it was true.

Hadn’t I conspired to steal from the Rajaram family? Hadn’t I put my own needs above
a stranger’s? Hadn’t I concealed weapons and poisons meant to slay the man I’d come
to love? My father wasn’t the viper. I was. I’d led these two noble princes to their
deaths. Tears filled my eyes as I realized there was no escaping his evil. It flowed
in my veins.

The knowledge of what I was, who I was, chafed. I didn’t want to be Lokesh’s daughter
any longer. I wanted to be someone good. Someone brave and noble. Someone worthy of
the love Kishan had offered. A pathetic whimper caught in my throat. If I did nothing,
they would die but Isha and I might live. If I confronted my father, he would kill
me along with them and then take out a slow, horrible vengeance on my maid.

My father continued, “Do you want to hear her scream? I promise you she does it quite
well. I offer you a choice one last time. Relinquish your piece to me.”

It was the lie that changed everything. All my life, I’d been deathly afraid of my
father and his power. Every waking moment, I’d lived in mortal fear of him. When he
announced to the princes that he’d invoked such terror in his daughter’s life as to
cause her to scream, I realized that it was that very thing that he wanted, and I’d
never given it to him. I’d remained as stoic and unaffected on the outside as if my
father were not a monster at all, but a man.

Though he had indeed traumatized me to the point of breaking me, he hadn’t. He had
never, not once in my sixteen years, caused me to scream. The idea gave me a sense
of power like I’d never felt before.

Lokesh—I mentally vowed never to call him father again—had taken his knife to Dhiren
and was weaving a spell. I saw light erupting around both of their frames. Before
I could make a move, Kishan sprung. He crashed into my father, who used his power
to thrust the prince away. As he tortured Kishan while a bound Dhiren attempted vainly
to get to his feet, I noticed that Kishan had successfully wrenched the knife from
Lokesh’s grasp.

The screams of the two princes stirred something fierce inside me. Something needed
to be done. Someone needed to act. I vowed then to be that someone. Against every
instinct I’d built over my sixteen years, I gripped the armrests of the golden chair
where I sat and stood up.

Feeling freed from the shackles of Lokesh’s oppression, I lifted my arms, murmuring
a plea to the gods that I might finally and truly be able to use my ability to heal
and protect another. Like the koi fish, I thrust the power I carried inside toward
the two princes.

My secret wish was answered. I could actually feel the wounds my father had inflicted
on them close. Lokesh bellowed in frustration as I shifted silently, becoming invisible,
and grabbed the knife Kishan had dropped on the floor.

I didn’t have experience with fighting like Deschen. I didn’t have a plan. But I had
a weapon. Lokesh bent over Dhiren, twirling his talisman, and I struck. With all the
force I could muster, I sank the knife deep into my father’s back. He shrieked in
rage, and the sound gave me a moment’s satisfaction, but the moment didn’t last. I’d
hoped that my attack would distract him long enough to allow the brothers to get away,
but he wrenched the knife from his back and shrugged off the pain as if it had been
the sting of a bee.

He headed toward Kishan, and becoming visible, I positioned myself front of him and
thrust my hand against his chest, shouting, “You will
not
touch him!”

“Yesubai, no!” Kishan said weakly as he attempted to move me aside, but Lokesh was
a tornado of fury. He used the power of the wind. It burst outward from his body in
all directions, and as my father lifted me, tossing me aside so he could get to Kishan,
the wind carried my body.

When I fell, my neck hit the dais and I heard a crack. I registered pain but only
for an instant before a blessed numbness stifled it. Immediately the breath seized
in my body. Everything stopped around me, and my surroundings took on a dream-like
quality as an eerie silence descended.

I could see Kishan had gotten to his feet, but he seemed frozen, and I wondered if
it was due to something Lokesh had done. Then I heard the tinkling of bells and a
beautiful woman appeared before me. She took in the bloody scene of betrayal I had
initiated and knelt down beside me. Her eyes were kind as she took my hand.

“Hello, Yesubai,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to meet you.”

She was dressed in a sparkling gown and her eyes were as green as a deep forest. She
wore a golden circlet on her arm in the shape of a snake. After passing her hand slowly
over my neck, she said, “You may speak if you wish.”

“Who…who are you? What’s happening?”

“I am the goddess Durga.”

“A goddess?” Tears filled my eyes. My prayers to the gods had indeed been answered.
“Then you’re here to save us?”

Sadly, she shook her head. “No. That is not the reason I have come.”

“I don’t understand. Then why are you here?”

“As I said, I wanted to meet you.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to get a sense of who you are.” She glanced over at the men frozen in place
and said quietly, “Specifically, I wanted to know if you loved him.”

“Do I love who?”

“Kishan.”

Perhaps I’d hit my head too hard and was in a sort of waking dream, but the vision
of the beautiful goddess seemed all too real to me. And there was something about
her that made me want to confess the truth of things. “Yes,” I answered softly. “I
love him. I’m sorry about what happened with Dhiren. He’s a good man. He didn’t deserve
to be abused in this way. If I could go back and do things differently, I would.”

The goddess studied me and then nodded. “I believe you.”

“They don’t deserve to have their fate tied to my own.”

“I do not wish for you to worry over their fate, Yesubai.”

“But Lokesh—”

She touched her hand to my cheek, leaned down, and whispered, “Your father
will
be defeated but it will not happen at this time.”

“Will I live to see it?”

She paused, considered the question, and then said, almost as if it was against her
better judgment, “I do not think as others do regarding knowing one’s future, so I
will answer your question.” Taking my hand in hers, she enveloped mine. I only had
a moment to wonder why I couldn’t feel it before she said, “You will not live out
this day. The fall has broken your neck.”

“But I can heal myself.”

She shook her head. “The gift of protection and healing you offered the brothers came
with a great cost. In defending the two of them, the power within you was consumed.
You became truly mortal.”

Tears filled my eyes. She waited patiently beside me until I could speak again. “Have
I proved myself to you then?”

“You have nothing to prove to me, Yesubai.”

“Perhaps not, but Kishan said that a gift would be bestowed on even the lowliest of
creatures whom the gods deem worthy.”

The goddess hesitated then nodded slightly. “What gift do you seek?”

“Will you…take care of him?”

Soberly, with a hint of relief, she nodded. “I will. I will watch over both of the
princes. This I promise you.”

“Can you also save Isha?”

“Who is Isha?”

“She’s my handmaid. Lokesh will take his revenge out upon her.”

The goddess glanced up briefly, peering at something beyond the scope of my vision,
and then nodded. “Yes. I will offer her a place of refuge.”

“Then the sacrifice was worth it.”

“Yes. Rest now, little one. You are very brave.”

In a brilliant burst of light, the goddess disappeared, and once again, I found I
could not breathe. Kishan gathered me in his arms, pressed his lips to my temple,
and pled, “Dayita, my love. Don’t leave me.”

The gift of his heartfelt whispers and promises was something I wasn’t entirely sure
I deserved, but my heart filled with gratitude for it all the same.

The final regret that captured my mind as I was swept away from mortal life was not
about Isha or Dhiren, confronting my father, or even leaving Kishan behind. The assurances
from the goddess had given me some comfort regarding all of them.

No, the thing that I lamented the most as I lay dying was that when Kishan finally
pressed his lips against mine, something I’d been yearning for since I stood next
to him in the king’s garden, I couldn’t feel it. Death robbed me of experiencing the
exquisite taste of his lips, but at least he was the last thing to encompass my vision
as I departed the world.

BONUS CHAPTER:
Yuvakshi’s Perspective

The trembling girl drew her shawl tightly across her shoulders as if by doing so she’d
be able to protect herself, but the bunched fabric made a flimsy sort of armor and
in her heart she knew she’d never feel safe again even if she had been girded from
head to toe in the strongest of steel. The seventeen year old stood in the warlord’s
bedchamber and pondered what had led her to this fate.

Her father’s servant had unceremoniously left her at the doorstep of the king’s military
leader, a man even the most powerful of her father’s friends had dared to whisper
about only behind their hands. She’d known that her father, a merchant by trade, had
recently made some influential new friends. How else had he become so suddenly successful?
But she had no idea his connections went so high.

They’d always been well enough off, but Yuvakshi was the eldest of seven children
and with so many mouths to feed, she had come to expect that her parents would make
a match for her at a very young age. She’d held out hope though that the man she’d
be given to would at least be closer to her own age if not one of the young men of
the town who had shown interest in the past.

There’d been quite a number to choose from and Yuvakshi’s favorite pastime as she
worked with her mother or took inventory in the store was to dream of what her life
might be like if she was matched to one of them. She had her favorites of course,
most of those having a handsome form or a handsome wallet, or, if she was lucky, both.
And her father was a clever man who kept his beautiful daughter in plain sight of
all who graced his business, so she had plenty of opportunities to consider who might
be a part of her future.

All who laid eyes on Yuvakshi agreed that she was a rare beauty who any young man
would be proud to take as a wife. Even if she hadn’t been comely, the sons from poorer
families would have visited often, hoping to catch her eye and win not only her hand
but a stake in the merchant’s business. Any one of those hopeful boys, even the fat
one with the ruddy complexion whose breath stunk of onions would have been a better
option than this.

Yuvakshi had expected that when she left her home as an adult that she’d at least
have an honorable union with a man who would take her as his wife. Not in her most
fearful imaginings did she expect her father to use her in such a shameful manner.
To give her away to one who intended to steal away the future she’d dreamed of. Nothing
could be worse.

When her father announced his intentions, there was nothing Yuvakshi’s mother could
do to stop him. No amount of tears would change his mind. “A bargain is a bargain,”
he’d said, throwing his hand up in the air to halt the discussion before he abruptly
left after issuing the cryptic instructions to prepare his daughter for her departure.

As the young girl was led outside with only her two finest dresses in a small bag,
her mother wrung her hands and murmured quietly to her husband of dark things Yuvakshi
didn’t want to hear, but even she could see the fear in her father’s eyes as her mother
begged him to consider an alternative or to at least negotiate the possibility of
an official marriage first.

Without even a goodbye, her father took hold of his tearful wife, clutching her to
his bosom as he nodded abruptly to the servant who led the girl out of the market.
Her steps were slow as she followed the man who wound his way through the busy shops
and up to the main road. She was surprised as the business side of town gave way to
homes that were more affluent and then they passed the residences of various diplomats
and politicians. Still the man kept going.

Yuvakshi began to wonder at her circumstances. Perhaps her mother had been wrong.
Perhaps her father had chosen well for her after all. Perhaps someone of substance
had caught sight of her pretty face and selected her out of thousands to be the consort
of a city leader. The girl bit her lip. Even if the man was older, it might not be
so bad.

If he was an amenable sort, he might even consider marriage if she handled the relationship
delicately. At the very least, she thought she wouldn’t be hungry. It wasn’t until
she was led up to the nearly impenetrable gates of the king’s military stronghold
that she began to truly understand what was happening.

“Am I to be the consort of a soldier?” she asked the man walking beside her.

He scoffed. “Not a soldier. Your father wouldn’t give you over to such as that.”

She blinked and mulled it over before saying, “The king?”

The man laughed outright at that. “Do you think yourself beautiful enough to make
him forget the wife he loved?”

Yuvakshi wasn’t sure how to answer that question. To say what she truly thought would
be considered boastful and yet if there was one thing she was confident about, it
was her appearance. She didn’t need to answer it turned out because at that moment
the heavy gates swung open and the man escorting her gave them a quick salute before
spinning around and heading back the way they’d come.

Suddenly surrounded by the king’s guard, Yuvakshi had never felt so alone. She asked
one of them to name the man she was meant for and not only did they not answer her,
they didn’t even glance in her direction. They were as stony and as unfeeling as statues.
Uncontrolled fear spilled out in the form of trickling tears. Heavy doors were unlocked
with rattling clanks that sounded to her like the weighted sound of a jail cell and
even her stride felt slow and lumbering as if her ankles were manacled and chained
to a heavy ball.

A stern faced woman met her at the top of a winding stairway. Being that close to
the palace, and with the size of the home being larger than anything she’d ever seen,
Yuvakshi thought the interior must have been opulent and grand but, instead, the passageways
were confusing and dark. There was a distinct lack of windows and the ones she did
see were made impassable with thick iron bars.

The ceilings were low and there were so many twists and turns that she felt like she
was stuck in a garden maze where the plants were growing around her trying to overtake
the path and smother those daring to traverse their borders. The woman sent to lead
her had all the warmth of a witch who had been wrongly crossed.

She guided Yuvakshi to a room that was, if not opulent, then at least better than
the corridors she’d traveled through. It quickly became obvious that this was not
the space she’d be living in as her bag was promptly removed and a thin white gown
was placed on the bed. The woman left with a warning that her master would return
within the hour and if she was smart, she’d try to please him.

One last time Yuvakshi asked, “Who is he? Your master?”

The flash of pity the girl saw in the woman’s eyes must have been a trick of the light
since it wasn’t there long enough to offer any comfort. At least she answered the
question though. “His name is Lokesh,” she said before leaving the room and locking
the door behind her.

“
Lokesh
?” Yuvakshi whispered. Surely the woman was mistaken. The marketplace buzzed with
rumors about the military leader who served the king. The atrocities he’d been said
to have committed ranged from betrayal to the slaughtering of innocents. The kind
ones said he’d gained power by making a pact with a demon but most of them said that
he
was
the demon. How could this be? How could her father have given her over to such a
man?

At least now the fear in her father’s eyes made sense. If anyone had bargained with
a demon it was her own kin. And she would be the one to suffer for it. Instinctively
knowing that it would be wiser of her to play up her strengths with the aim being
to gain any kindness the man possessed in his demon’s heart, Yuvakshi carefully dressed
in the gown given to her and finger combed through her dark tresses, pulling out the
carefully woven braids until her hair hung in long waves down her back.

She smoothed imaginary wrinkles from the gown and stepped into the sunlight, turning
her body so that the sun’s rays reflected on her face and lit her eyes. The wait was
long due to her nervousness but it was shorter than she would have wished. With a
heavy clank, the door swung open and the object of her fear stood immobile staring
at her.

Yuvakshi said not a word but straightened to her full height, angling her shoulders
and widening her eyes before lowering her lashes demurely. “My lord,” she said quietly
and bowed her head briefly.

Boldly, Lokesh strode forward, grabbed her chin roughly and lifted her face so he
could look at her. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils widened. “What is your name?”
he demanded, his breath hot on her flaming cheeks.

“Yuvakshi,” she said. “Daughter of—”

He squeezed her jaw, cutting off her words. “I don’t
care
whose daughter you are.” His hot gaze trailed down her form and back up to her face.
“You’re beautiful enough, I suppose.”

“Thank—”

“Do not speak.” Wisely, Yuvakshi held her tongue.

Lokesh turned away then and began removing his cloak. Then he sat and angrily gestured
for her to help him with his boots. She did, but when she struggled to get them off,
he thrust her aside. She fell against a table and knocked it over, bruising her hip
in the fall. His hand had barely touched her and yet the push was so forceful, she
could barely regain her footing.

At that moment, Yuvakshi knew two things for certain. First, the man she’d been given
to was more formidable, more powerful than the rumors accounted for and second, he
was a man with a violent temper who held no softness in his heart. Pleasing him would
be the only way she’d survive, so she made survival her life’s purpose.

She suffered no illusions about her place in his life. When she wasn’t needed, she
became as small and invisible as possible, but the moment he had use for her, she
came to him and offered him all he wanted. It wasn’t long before her former life seemed
like a dream. Were there once people who loved her? Who wanted to make her happy?
It seemed impossible.

Her whole world was now this man and the pain that hung around him in a black cloud.
There was no predicting when the lightning would strike or how taxing and sore the
punishment would be. If there was a pattern she would have discovered it. She was
good at that. Good at sensing when someone was ready to buy or if they were just wandering
the market looking to steal an apple or trying to finagle a better deal.

With this man there was no figuring him out. He was volatile. Angry at the world.
And yet there was an incompleteness about him. He was…fragmented somehow. There was
something he wanted and wanted desperately, but as carefully as she paid attention,
he never gave away any clues.

When she discovered she was pregnant, she was hesitant to give him the news. On the
one hand, he might feel as if her purpose no longer served him and he’d kill her.
On the other hand, he might simply discard her instead. It was possible that her mother
might take her in but it was unlikely. She was shamed and with child.

There were places such women could go, but the life of a tainted woman and her child
would not be a happy one. Still, survival on the outside might be easier than life
with Lokesh. She was worrying over her options, not finding an outcome that would
be pleasant for her and her baby, when her master returned home. After helping him
with his boots and handing him a cold drink from the water pitcher, she decided to
simply tell him.

As she took the empty cup and turned, placing it on the table, she said, “I am with
child.”

She kept her back to him, the fear over his response turning her into a coward. When
he didn’t say anything, she hesitantly faced him. There was an expression of…not joy
or happiness but…satisfaction on his face.

“Are you certain?” he finally asked.

“I am,” Yuvakshi replied. “I believe it is the third month.”

“With child.” He mused as he studied her briefly and then left the bed chamber.

Lokesh didn’t return all evening. The next day he found Yuvakshi and told her to prepare
herself for marriage. He had arranged a wedding for them to take place the following
week. Yuvakshi didn’t know what to think but his reaction to her news was much better
than she could have hoped for. She comforted herself by thinking that if she had to
be wed to a demon at least her child would be born honorably.

That theme seemed to be reflected in Lokesh as well. He frequently made mention of
his son being born legitimately. It seemed important to him for some reason and Yuvakshi
hoped that if he bore no love for her then at least he might soften a bit toward his
child. And he did soften…somewhat.

After the wedding, a small ceremony where her parents wished her well but studiously
avoided looking into her eyes, Yuvakshi was given a more comfortable room, more maidservants,
and, what was even better, Lokesh spent most of his time with her talking about the
baby and her comfort, consulting with midwives, and gaining even more prestige and
control in the kingdom than he had already. He said he wanted to build a legacy to
pass down to his son.

Though Lokesh constantly spoke of a son, Yuvakshi ignored the niggling doubts she
had over what would happen should a daughter be born. She hoped that he would coddle
and spoil a daughter though that did seem unrealistically optimistic when she considered
his character. Surely the gods noticed her quiet suffering and would favor her with
a boy.

Sadly, it was not to be.

When her travails began, Yuvakshi relished in the hurt. It was nothing compared to
the beatings her husband had given her before she’d announced her pregnancy. She knew
that in giving him this precious gift that she’d be securing a place for herself and
her child. Perhaps she could make this work after all. She’d try even harder to please
him, to mold herself into what he wanted her to be.