“Right, right.” The Maharaj snapped upright at Dhanur’s words, brushing off that part of the conversation. “My apologies, I must have you confused with someone I knew. I am Aarushi Aabha, Maharaj of Daksin and priestess of the sun. How can I serve my people?” She bowed her head slightly.

Dhanur’s expression warped from depression to flat. Each blink took seconds to complete as the Maharaj watched blankly, brainlessly waiting for anything to happen. Dhanur didn’t move and stared at the ground. She felt as though her mind should be racing, that her inner voice should be trying to make an excuse for why coming to the Keep didn’t work. But she could only repeat in her head ‘of course. Of course. Of course it didn’t work. Of course we’re back where we started. Of course nothing’s going to change. Of course she doesn’t remember me, the nights we spent together watching the moon in the towers or by the fire in the Outside after training while Muqtablu slept. Of course she doesn’t remember the time I left her bedroom in the morning and found her father about to enter, the time she lured a vetala to a pocket forest so I could surprise it from up top. Of course finding a girl like her meant nothing.’

Janurana looked between Dhanur and the Maharaj as Dhanur stayed silent. Even when she was drunk and slumped over a table, her head didn’t hang so low. The Maharaj looked on, simply waiting for the response. After a few agonizing moments, Dhanur inhaled, straightening up as she did so.

“Maharani Aarushi Aabha, ruler of the plateau and priestess of the sun, I am Dhanur, in service of the Capital and my noble ward Shzahd. She is highborn, separated from her family. We seek the use of the Maharaj’s familial records so she can reconnect with her house.”

Any hint of joviality and familiarity had left Dhanur. She spoke with the discipline of a soldier addressing their commander. Her eyes passed right through Janurana, addressing her without acknowledging her presence, simply going through the motions. 

Janurana let out a breath of her own. Her first step forward required an inordinate amount of effort to enter the situation, but as she approached, the Maharaj inspected her sari. It wasn’t the typical expected apparel of those allowed behind the Keep’s gate. Its grunge and repairs only registered as difference, not destitution. 

Aarushi’s eyes focused and unfocused, like a smith inspecting a spearhead’s sharpness. She cocked her head as she determined Janurana must not be from her walls. 

“Ah! Diplomacy!” The Maharaj announced like a child figuring something out.

Janurana stepped forward, taking longer than she would have liked. Dhanur had mentioned that she looked like someone, and with the Maharaj’s round cheeks, Janurana wondered if Aarushi was the person. But without seeing her reflection, she couldn’t be sure. Regardless, she came forward to bow with her hands together before changing to a bow like Dhanur. “Madam Maharaj—Oh, excuse me. Maharani.”

“Please, young lady, no need. You two are not the same.” The Maharaj slunk back into her pillows, waving off the mistake.

Janurana pressed ahead with no lapse in poise. In an instant she fit perfectly into the slot, the memory of the court having not faded in the slightest once she got going. “My name is Shzahd. When I was a child, I was forcibly separated from my,” she paused for only an instant, “family. The war and Scorching forced and kept us apart. My memory of them is fading but I hope through perusing your records I might unlock a forgotten fragment and reunite with them. Through your magnificence, grace, and blessing, I might be able to return home.”

Dhanur blinked at Janurana’s flawless performance. The Maharaj placed her hand on her chest softly in sympathy. She sat forward then rose serenely from her throne. 

“Poor thing. Of course I’ll offer any means I can.” Aarushi Aabha opened her arms in a welcoming gesture, basking in the refreshing civility and humility of Janurana’s request, then yawned. “You’ve come at quite the opportune time. Service is always my priority and this is a welcome distraction.”

“The stresses of the court, no?” Janurana giggled, covering her mouth with her parasol.

For the first time, the Maharaj’s gaze focused on it. Her eyes narrowed as she fixated, letting its image mull over in her mind, thinking on who and what she had seen using such a thing. Her gaze briefly sharpened before she reverted to the catatonic glassy eyed trance she’d entered before.

“Maharani?” Janurana inquired.

“Yes.” The Maharaj snapped out of her trance. “Yes. Yes, of course, um… What was your name again?”

“Shzahd,” she replied with a smile tilted towards comfort, as one might remind an ailing elder for one’s name.

“Right, right.” Another brush of her hand. “Come with me, young Kumari.”

Aarushi Aabha ushered her forward leaving Dhanur behind. Her rigid military posture was only broken by her hanging head. She continued to curse in her mind, repeating ‘of course’. Occasionally she shook her head as if that would make her ten second long blinks go faster. She looked back to the door, then scoffed. ‘Of course this was pointless. Of course I walk in and just get this. Of course she doesn’t remember telling me stories I hadn’t heard before or getting angry that I didn’t see when she was hitting on me.’ Dhanur knocked her head. ‘Of course she doesn’t remember breaking up arguments between me and Muqtablu. Of course she doesn’t remember when Muqtablu left us. Of course this is the last memory I get of her. Of course they won. Of course.’

The governors went about their day with a perverse glee.

Janurana stood in the doorway as the Maharaj continued forward oblivious. She had seen Dhanur depressed at the inn, or at least so drunk on who knows how many cups of beer that she didn’t have the energy to be anything but. Still, her tentative hope being so effectively crushed was a different despair.

“Dhanur?” Janurana beckoned softly as she was being led away.

Dhanur followed silently and immediately. 

Aarushi led them through another door into another hall. The way to the records was a labyrinth. Maharajs, nobles, and generals had all added, removed, and revised entire sections of the Keep for their own convenience or necessities. Only those who were raised in such an environment could navigate it. Oddly, the design served a purpose. Should invasion ever come, the near–nonsensical layout of the Keep ensured those who hid within it would be protected from the invasion. 

Aarushi Aabha continued down the halls with Janurana following close to her side, but ever so slightly behind, as she should.

“Young Kumari, tell me, how did you come to be separated from your house?” Aarushi asked.

Janurana opened her mouth to speak, but she froze, as she did when speaking of her cover name but for much longer. 

Aarushi Aabha continued forward awaiting a response, but when none came she turned and found Janurana locked in position far behind. She was clutching her parasol painfully. It was a testament to its craftsmanship that it didn’t rip asunder. Dhanur, who was staring at the floor as she walked, smacked heavily into Janurana. Both snapped into action from the surprise. 

Janurana cocked her fist, ready to slam it into Dhanur’s face.

Dhanur leapt back, all sadness gone as she focused, slipped her bow from her shoulder, and reached back for an arrow that wasn’t there. 

The two keep guards further up the hall lowered their spears and began sprinting at the pair.

“Shzahd?” The Maharaj called as if she didn’t notice the clattering of bronze behind her as the guards stopped.

Janurana flinched again at the name, chastising herself for choosing it. She threw Dhanur the slightest scowl.

But before Dhanur could scoff and retort, Janurana resumed walking with Aarushi Aabha.

“Are you alright?” The Maharaj continued.

As Janurana reassured the Maharaj that all was well, Dhanur shook her head and put her bow away. ‘I don’t look like a dowsing gwomoni,’ she growled to herself.

‘You’re just as ready to fight them as she is,’ her inner voice retorted.

‘This is all going so well. Janurana’s mad for whatever reason and Aarushi doesn’t even remember me. Of course she doesn’t remember me…’

Her inner voice went conspicuously silent.

‘Everything we’ve done together and fought together, all our days and nights together, jokes, awkward and embarrassing things when we were drunk, that time I said she should probably wear a different sari and she smacked me, barely a half moment of noticing me. She was my dowsing lover and she’s dowsing gone.’

When she wasn’t staring at the floor, Dhanur watched Aarushi’s smile. It was blank, but a smile. Occasionally she would look to Aarushi Aabha’s forehead, open and empty. Her hair was parted to either side and the slightest indentation was burned between her eyes, visible only if one knew what hanging jewel had been removed from the chain tiara that rested heavily on her forehead.

‘It was so beautiful,’ Dhanur remembered. 

She would often stare into the massive red gem and wonder how such a tiny chain held it up. But it had long since been taken from Aarushi. Dhanur’s gaze fell directly back to the floor and she kept her head down as she passed the Keep guards, who watched them intently. Janurana did the same, strategically hiding her face with her hair or keeping Aarushi between her and them as she passed.