Of Light and Shadow by Tanaz Bhathena

Author:Tanaz Bhathena [Bhathena, Tanaz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tundra Book Group
Published: 2023-05-23T00:00:00+00:00

THE LIGHTNESS LEFT NAVIN THE MOMENT THEY BOTH STEPPED out of Farhad’s suite—and nearly slammed into Sushil.

“Apologies, R-rajkumar, Yuvraj,” the boy stuttered. “But the parasmani is calling for you both. She expects to see you at the temple at once.”

Farhad smiled at Navin. Showtime, he mouthed.

And what a show it was—again a drudgery of ritual and prayer and parades, but this time of black-helmeted sipahis riding horses and chariots, their weapons glinting in the distance, of giant, ten-foot-long atashbans being pulled down the street on wheels by elephants from the southern forests.

There were more people on the palace balcony on the second day of Hashtdin—ministers, court advisers, and relatives vying for the attention of the parasmani, hoping for positions at court. The parasmani ignored mostly everyone, deep in conversation with the Minister of Treasure.

Is she counting the coin she’d earned off the backs of peasants? Navin wondered. Or is she planning to extract more?

Even if she was—what could Navin do about it? A second prince, whose words and title carried little meaning, even when he wanted them to.

Farhad, the only person who might have been able to influence the queen, was on the opposite side of the balcony, chatting with their younger cousins. He gave Navin a smile. Navin would have smiled back if not for the exhaustion in his limbs, the reminders of Ashvamaidan in the sipahis’ ancient, glinting atashbans, the false dye on an aunt’s braid mimicking Jwaliyan red hair.

Excusing himself from a bland discussion about the weather, Navin made his way to the edge of the balcony and breathed in the scents of damp earth and sticky, fragrant air. A light drizzle had begun midway through the parade, one that now was increasing in fervor, threatening a downpour. Somewhere nearby, a bamboo pipe had burst, the putrid stench of waste mingling with the fireblooms.

“Goddess save us! What a terrible day!” said an aunt—one of Farhad’s late father’s many sisters—her bright mango sari making her look like an overripe version of the fruit. “The rain makes things worse—uff, that smell!”

“I’ve heard that the peri can sing away the rain,” a distant cousin said. “It would be so useful right now. Look how it’s ruining the parade with all that mud!”

“The peri don’t influence the weather!” the aunt scoffed. “Their singing only affects people!”

“Naturally. Did you not see how our rajkumar affected them yesterday?”

“You mean, the one time he had an effect?” she questioned, raising her voice with the taunt, probably so that Navin could hear.

Normally, Navin would have ignored the comment. Today, however, he’d had enough of being made to feel powerless. He thrust his face into the rain so that his head and shoulders were completely drenched. As expected, a servant came rushing at him.

“Rajkumar, your clothes!” Sushil sounded harried. “Your makeup! Please come under the parasol!”

“Don’t worry, Sushil.” Navin made sure his voice was as loud and carrying as Farhad’s aunt. “The peri may not control the rain, but at least we don’t fear it like overbearing aunts.

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