Gifting Fire by Alina Boyden (read my book .TXT) 📕

put his arms around me, not here where the guards and the servants could see. Instead, he whispered, “We could go to my bedchamber,” in a voice that was so deep and quiet that it was almost a purr. My heart jolted in response.

I opened my mouth to tell him what a brilliant idea that was, but the words that filled my ears weren’t my own. They belonged to Lakshmi, my little sister.

“Akka, they took my bed!” She was shouting down the corridor at me, her arms crossed over her chest, her dark brow furrowed at the indignity. “Where am I going to sleep?”

Before I could respond, Sakshi, my elder sister, appeared beside her, clad in the same white shalwar kameez as my little sister. They’d clearly both been about to go to sleep. The workmen’s timing couldn’t possibly have been worse, but I knew I couldn’t blame them, not when the rain had been falling nonstop for three days. It had slowed everything down.

I sighed. “We’ll find a place for both of you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, Razia,” Sakshi said, her arms going around Lakshmi and holding her close. “We know that this move is more stressful for you than for anyone. Don’t we?” She aimed that last question at Lakshmi, but our little sister was having none of it.

“Why do we have to leave Bikampur again?” she groaned.

“You know why,” I replied. She was eleven, not five, and I’d explained it to her more than once.

“You should tell your father you’re staying here,” Lakshmi said. “Tell him you like it here and you don’t want to leave.”

I sighed so I wouldn’t scream. My stomach churned at the thought of leaving yet another home, of having to start over for the third time in my life. But I knew that I didn’t have a choice. If I told my father I wanted to stay in Bikampur, that I loved being Arjun’s princess so much that I couldn’t possibly do what he asked of me, then he’d probably send assassins to slit my throat in my sleep. Honestly, I was a little surprised that he hadn’t. He’d made me the subahdar, the provincial governor, of Zindh as a battlefield concession, under duress. Now that he was safe in the imperial palace in Nizam, it wouldn’t take much to dispatch an army of trained killers to find me and do away with me. Wouldn’t that be cheaper and easier than getting the other subahdars of the empire to respect a hijra as one of their number?

Of course, the cheapest and easiest way to kill me would be to just bide his time until I arrived in Shikarpur and kill me there. I’d be at his mercy then, surrounded by his soldiers. Here in Bikampur, with Arjun at my side, and his father’s soldiers all around us, I was as safe as I could be anywhere. That was all going to change when we left for Zindh.

“Lakshmi, we’ve talked about this,” Sakshi said, stroking my little sister’s silky black hair, taming it down where it had come loose from its braid.

“You’ve talked about it,” Lakshmi corrected, stamping her foot in irritation. “I’ve been saying I don’t want to go and you won’t listen!”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, praying to God for strength. “We’re listening. But we don’t have a choice. We have to go.”

“I hate your father!” Lakshmi exclaimed.

That, of all things, brought a smile to my lips. “Me too, little sister.” I came forward and embraced her tightly, wishing that I could let her stay here, because that was what I wanted more than anything. We’d made a home here. I was liked here. For the first time in my life, people respected me for me. And now I was going to have to give it all up, to cross the desert to start a new life in a new city. And yes, I was going to be the subahdar, I was going to be the ruler of city and province both, but I knew better than to believe that my father’s gift of a royal title and a governorship would earn me the respect of the men and women who lived there. A hijra princess was an oxymoron, and I doubted if they’d let me forget it.

“Well, you can be sad,” Arjun told Lakshmi as he came up behind me. “But I, for one, am glad we’re leaving.”

I was sure that my face betrayed the same skepticism as Lakshmi’s.

“You are?” she asked.

“I am,” he replied.

“Why?” she demanded.

“Because I like new adventures,” he said, in tones that suggested he didn’t think she did. “I like flying over new lands and meeting new people and eating new foods that I’ve never even heard of before. And I like going to new marketplaces where they have different clothes and jewelry and spices. And I love learning new songs and new games too. And Zindh is probably going to be a little bit dangerous, so I’m going to have to fly my zahhak a lot, and I might have to get into aerial duels with your big sister’s enemies.

“But”—he shrugged—“that stuff is probably too exciting for you. You’re probably too dainty for aerial duels.”

“Am not!” Lakshmi grumbled, wrinkling her nose at that accusation.

Arjun carried on like he hadn’t heard her. “Yes, it’s probably too dangerous and too exciting for little girls. I can talk to my mother and see if she’ll let you stay here in the women’s quarters with my sister. We’ll let Sakshi have your zahhak instead, since she’s learning to be such a good rider.”

“No!” Lakshmi exclaimed.

“No?” Arjun’s obsidian eyebrows shot up to his hairline in mock surprise. “But what are you going to do with a zahhak here where it’s safe and there’s nothing new to explore?”

“I like new things too,” Lakshmi insisted. “I’m just going to miss it here is all.” Her dark eyes flickered up to meet mine. “I’m tired of starting over.”

“Me