I Shall Rewrite the Stars

Chapter 9

***

I am nearly asleep on my feet when we reach the Odam ship, half-perched upon the beach and tended to by more than a dozen men rushing back and forth atop its deck. The craft is long and tall, its twin sails waiting to be unfurled, whilst a smaller, third sail billows at the front ready and waiting.

Raja pays the chaos of her crew no mind, striding aboard with all the dignity and self-assurance of a pharaoh. I’ve only just followed her aboard when a tinge of jealousy stings my heart.

Have I ever looked the way she does? Have any thought that I was as proud a Sat-Nesut of Kemet as she looks a Rajkumari of Jambudvīpa?

It could just be my dire need for sleep, or the weight of the past two days, or any number of things really. But for the very first time, alongside the disappointment I feel toward myself, I feel a creeping bitterness toward my parents.

Why didn’t they treat me the same as my brothers? Why wasn’t I taught to defend myself—why wasn’t I taught to lead by example? If I hadn’t been so sure that my superiors alone could fix a situation I’d already failed to survive once, maybe we wouldn’t be here now.

If I’d had Raja’s confidence, maybe I could have rallied the guards to my call and led them under my own banner. Maybe all of Alexandria would have gone up in arms at my summons, and been grateful when Roma found us armed and waiting. Maybe I could have been as fierce a warrior as Father and as cunning a foe as Mother.

But they never gave me the chance.

I never gave myself that chance…

“Selene?” Helios asks, and I realize we’ve stopped beneath an awning of shimmering pink sheets.

A black table piled with plates of fruits, meats, and cheeses rests in the middle of the floor, surrounded by plush pillows of pinks, greens, and gold. My siblings have already sat, Raja as well, and all look at me with expectation.

I sink down beside Juba, close enough that I can set my hand on his and squeeze tight.

If he minds, he doesn’t say so. Nor does he move away.

“Before we eat, I will have a proper introduction,” Raja declares, and plucks a date from the nearest plate. “You are all aware of who I am. Now, I would like to know your names in return.”

Helios gives his name, along with, “I’m Selene’s younger brother and second Sa-Nesut of Kemet. This one,” He points to our sister. “Is the youngest and second Sat-Nesut of Kemet, Ptolemy.”

“And you?” Raja asks, looking to my right.

“Juba. I am formerly owned by Gustavian, but have seen fit to ally with Kemet for the time being.”

Raja raises a brow. “Oh? For a man who is keeping his options open, you’ve dropped the honorifics owed to an emperor rather fast.”

 “Do you intend to tell on me?”

Raja laughs. “Roma wouldn’t like to hear anything I have to say, neither about their tyrant nor what I think of their runaway’s brazenness.”

Juba makes a sound like a chuckle. “That comment was more than enough to invite war to your lands. I’d be careful, Principessa—”

“I am no Romasian principessa,” Raja spits. “I am Rajkumari, and the only threat in all the world that I need take seriously is His Esteemed Majesty’s displeasure.”

“You fear your own father?” Ptolemy scoffs, and shoves a chunk of white cheese in her mouth. “He must be a terrible parent.”

“Perhaps.” Raja waves her finger over the plates, pointing between a grape and a green fruit that I’ve never seen before. “But thanks to his strength I retain not only my title, but my influence and assurances, whilst you have none. In this way, His Esteemed Majesty is a superior parent to both of your own.”

“Watch your mouth,” Helios growls, all pretense of cheerfulness lost as his eyes narrow to a glare. “Ptolemy was out of line, so I’ll apologize for her. Again. But neither you nor anyone else will disrespect our parents like that.”

“And what exactly will you do to stop us?” Raja chooses the grape, her fingers hovering over it while her eyes narrow on my brother. “I will tolerate the girl, but I’ve been told that you officially became a man just a few days ago. As such, you are not owed the same leniency.”

“Just like you’re not owed the right to speak down on two people who gave their lives so that their children might survive!”

“Be quiet and eat, Helios,” I say, rubbing circles into my right temple. “See this conversation for the test that it is, and accept that you and Ptolemy have failed.”

“Test?” he demands, and Raja’s gaze snaps to mine.

“You look a weak girl, but your mind is sharp,” she notes. “I fear you’ll be the only one His Esteemed Majesty takes seriously.”

“I fear you’re still unimpressed by me, and so he’ll be doubly so.”

Raja snickers and pops the grape into her mouth. “Don’t think the worst of me. I understand more than anyone the lengths a parent will go for their child. If the pharaohs gave their lives for you, then they have my respect as a mother, and my sympathies as a rajkumari.”

“Sympathy is better than pity,” Juba says. “The question is, will your father feel the same?”

“Who’s to know? Rajkumaris are respected in Jambudvīpa, but Selene is the only one among you with status and enough wit to withstand my minor prodding.” She smiles. “Though just barely. Did your mother teach you nothing of how to wage and win a political battle?”

“She taught me to be complacent and respectful; obedient and wholly loyal to our kingdom. She taught me to trust that my future would be secured by those more powerful than I, and that I would only ever be a supportive figure for Kemet.” I tsk, low and bitter. “She failed me, and may well have failed the entire world, by default.”

Helios hisses my name. Ptolemy watches me from the corners of her eyes and continues to eat. Juba says nothing, and Raja concludes with, “I see.”

Hungry as I am, I can’t bring myself to eat. Instead, I watch the plates Raja chooses, noting when she’s finally taken a piece from each one. It wouldn’t be unexpected for the food to be tampered with, for even this meal to be some kind of test.

When her eyes meet mine, a knowing glint crosses her gaze, and I realize the test was both of how I we are and how much blind faith we have in her, as royalty or not, she’s still a stranger.

“I’ve seen enough for tonight,” Raja whispers to me much later, when the ship moves into the open sea and the sun has seeped below the horizon. “You may rest easy.”

“Should I assume this is an attempt to see how readily I will let my guard down?” I ask, cursing my siblings for already snoring where they sit slumped over the table and pillows.

“If it were, I would take your blatant question as an insult to my hospitality, and wonder if someone so rude is fit to meet with His Esteemed Majesty.”

I bite my lip, recalling the many times my honesty was taken as an insult in my first life. No amount of whippings could change my nature, and though I grew to hate it, Juba insisted it made me a better person. I’d died unsure if he was right or not.

“I can see that you’re at your limit,” Raja says a bit softer, though her gaze remains hard. “And as I do for all our fellow rajkumaris across this cruel world, I feel for you. Our youth and sex will always work against us, but right now you must set aside your personal feelings and determine to rise above the world’s expectations. His Esteemed Majesty is the most just sovereign to be found. Present yourself as worthy of his investment, and he will gift it.”

“And if I can’t?” I ask, offering her this small branch of trust—this tiny window into my greatest fears.

“You tell me. If you just roll over and accept defeat, then you deserve whatever follows. But if you take the lesson and grow from it, defeat may turn into a great victory.”

“Defeat may lead us into early graves.”

“Still, you’ve no choice but to take the risk of one or the other.”

“No,” I agree. “We don’t—”

“You don’t.” Raja corrects. “Your siblings are a burden, especially your sister. I’ve a mind to continue sparring with you, and I enjoy teasing Helios, but Ptolemy…”

“I…I know.”

We part with that, Raja leaving to observe our progress toward the mainland while I return to my spot at Juba’s side. He opens one eye, arms crossed and back against a crate. I meet his gaze as I sit, bid him goodnight, and lay my cheek against his knee.

His hand brushes a stray strand of hair from my cheek, and I fall asleep before I’ve fully settled onto the carpeted floor.

Several days of sailing follow in rapid succession. Just as she’d said she would, Raja tests me in all sorts of little ways.

Will I accept a drink from a jug she’s not taken a drink from first? If not, how will I reject her without offending her? Will I match her steps to stand beside her or fall behind like a servant? If I do dare to keep pace, how does that reflect my self-worth when my royal status is so uncertain?

To my surprise Helios catches on after the third day, and sets to silently watching. I’ve never known my brother to be studious unless Father and Cearion were demonstrating something. I’d thought his only goals were to imitate those two. Now, I wonder if Helios might actually be someone capable of juggling politics.

Though, he does fall for Raja’s teasing all too easily, and erupts with emotions far too freely for me to imagine him as an emissary.

Watching Raja bait Helios into bickerments and silly debates about the best foods or time of day, has been a welcome respite from the moments when Helios’ eyes darken and he sits staring silently at the sea. I’ve tried talking to him about what’s on his mind, but he seems determined to carry his feelings on his own.

And who am I, with all my own secret burdens, to push him to do otherwise?

For her part, Ptolemy is quiet most days, content to lie on the pillows and eat or rest. In our first lives she’d been a weeping mess, inconsolable and near-mad when we’d been herded onto the ship bound for Roma. It’s strange to see her so calm now, but it’s nonetheless preferable, so I’ve left her be.

And Juba…

I look back at him as our seventh sunrise breaks over the horizon. In the dim light cast by a handful of swinging oil lamps, he walks to my side. Swaying together at the back of the ship, rocked by the gentle waves, we watch the sky turn bright shades of pink, red, and blue.

“Raja said we will arrive soon,” I whisper. “She’s rather upset that it should take nearly three weeks to arrive in Pataliputra.”

“That’s hardly any time at all,” Juba replies. “Are you nervous?”

“I haven’t passed any of her tests to her satisfaction, so…yes. Terrified, actually.”

Juba nods. “Until you miraculously save the world from Roma, I think you should get used to being afraid. It will keep your senses sharp.”

“You told me that in our past life.”

“I seem to have told you a lot in our past life.”

I choose my words carefully. “Are you ready to admit that it bothers you?”

“If it’s that obvious, then I’ve no need to.” He glances down at me. “Letting anyone know too much about you, is dangerous, yet you know so much about me without my current self’s consent. It’s…aggravating.”

“I can keep my thoughts to myself.”

“Then I’ll go mad wondering if you knew whatever I’ve said, before I’ll have said it.”

“I know this is difficult, but doesn’t it bring you any comfort at all that I could only know what I do, because in another life you willingly chose to share it all? That I’m someone who you chose to befriend, and who you can choose to befriend again?”

“Did I worry about you before, as I do now?” Juba demands, and looks back out at the sea. “Did I fret after your blunders and lose sleep when you left my side? Did I tell you how or why I could come to feel so much toward someone I barely know?”

I press a hand over my heart, willing it to slow, and shake my head. “If…if you’d felt that way so soon, then you never told me.”

“Of course I wouldn’t have,” Juba sighs. “I feel like I’m going mad, and have from the moment I laid eyes on you in that garden. Just what power have you cast over me?”

“I—”

“Land!” Raja shouts, her voice ringing over the ship and the scurry of pounding feet. “I see land at last!”

“I miss what we had and hope for it again,” I conclude, turning on my heel. “But I’ve no power to decide whether or not you feel or ever will feel the same. That shall be entirely up to you.”

Making my way to the front, I search until I spot Helios atop the bow, his wrists tied with two long ropes and head thrown back against the wind.

“Helios!” I cry, dodging men, crates, and ropes until I am just below him. “Helios, get down from there!”

“I’m fine!” he laughs. “It’s amazing up here!”

“Isn’t it?” Raja asks, hopping from nowhere to land at his side.

Visibly surprised, Helios hurriedly throws his arm around her waist.

“You’re crazy!” Helios shouts, to which she laughs.

“As if you’re one to talk!”

“It’s too early for this,” Ptolemy groans, rubbing her eyes as she walks up to my side.

“You’re awake,” Raja calls down. “I had Mrunal pick some clothing for you. It's in the hold.”

“It’s about time we’re offered something besides these sea-worn rags,” Ptolemy mutters, already turning toward the slim door in the floor a few feet behind us.

We make quick work of going below to a well-lit space littered with crates, barrels, and hammocks. Atop a small table we find folded piles of gold and midnight blue fabric. Ptolemy snatches up the gold, already shucking off her gown when I take up what remains.

When we are both dressed in baggy shalwar, tunics, pointed shoes, and waist-length veils, we ascend back to the deck and allow Juba and Helios to pass us by, each with their own piles of clothing in hand.

Together with Ptolemy I turn to marvel at the city unfurling before us. Thick pillars of intricately carved stone jut out toward the water, acting as docks for nearby ships. From there, rows upon rows of stone steps lead up to towering buildings composed of reddish-brown bricks, pillars, and archways.

On the stone path between the buildings, under the shade of tall trees with high, flat limbs cloaked in brilliant green leaves, hundreds of people mill about. Dressed in shades of pinks, blues, blacks, oranges, and yellows, the crowd looks nothing like the simple, somber folk of Alexandria.

“Just wait until you see our capital,” Raja beams, appearing behind me. “Now, step onto the sacred land of Jambudvīpa. Take in the sights, the smells—you are welcome to it all!”

“It’s too grand for words,” I say, noting her curt nod of approval. As we disembark, I breathe in the scents of an array of spices and a note of jasmine. It’s a comfort, if not a bit foreign.

“This is just a port city?” Ptolemy asks. “To think Jambudvīpa is wealthy enough to splurge so much for a mere coastal backwater.”

“Ptolemy,” I groan, and she rolls her eyes.

“Excuse me for being impressed.”

I shake my head. “Honestly, why can’t you ever just—”

“Selene!” Helios shouts, seconds before Juba throws his arms around me.

“Watch out!”

***