I Shall Rewrite the Stars

Chapter 16

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For a long time, I lie on my back in a daze. Even when I hear the doors open and Raja’s voice at Helios’ bedside, I cannot bring myself to sit up or greet her.

Not that I especially want to.

It was one thing to test me over and over, but if she knew that her father had planned to poison Helios, then…

No. I won’t allow myself to assume the worst. It does us no good if I turn our only friend in this place against us via false accusations. Until I know for sure, I can only lie still, recover, and listen.

Though it becomes harder to focus on the conversation between Raja and Helios, when I feel myself shifted onto a warm lap and cradled by strong arms. Wrapped in the scent of sea salt and cinnamon, I relax almost to the point of sleep.

“Selene?” Juba whispers, his breath against my ear. “You look as ill as Helios had. You should rest.”

“I am resting,” I mutter.

“You know what I mean.”

“If I succumb to sleep, then it’ll prove how weak I am.”

“You turned back time. Only an utter fool would dare to call you weak after such a grand achievement.”

“But what if a point comes when I need to wield this power without rest? Do you remember how the maharaja wielded the wind in his throne room? He didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.”

“He’s probably had decades to master such power. You’ve only just begun.”

I force one eye open, and my lips tilt up at the corners. “Your concern and defense mean the world to me, Juba, but they don’t change the fact that I need to become stronger. This was only the first of my battles, after all.”

“Our battles,” he corrects. “Before tonight, I’d never thought it possible that someone could truly stand a chance against Gustavian. But your power is great—so great, it might just rival his own. I want to see more, Selene. And should you ever face Roma in a final battle for the world, I want to be there to see you win.”

“You’ve resolved to stay with me?” I ask, my heart aflutter. “You really believe I can master this ability well enough to defeat Gustavian?”

Juba’s cheeks darken a shade, half his face dipping beneath the rim of his scarf as if to hide his blush. “You’ve the qualities I’ve always looked for, but never found in a single person. It might be too soon for me to say this, but I think I’ve begun to understand what the Juba in our first lives saw in you—the reason why he befriended and stood by you.”

“And you wish to do the same?”

“I...” He stops short, releases his breath, and mutters, “I do. Must you truly make me say it again and again?”

I chuckle under my breath, and set my cheek over his heart. The steady beat draws me into a fitful rest that is broken far too soon, by the muffled growl of my twin.

“I’m saying that I believe you,” he snaps in a fierce whisper. “But I saw who you were outside of this place. You glowed like the sun itself, Raja! Now you look nothing but a pretty, glittering shadow of the girl I met.”

“Woman,” Raja hisses just as fiercely. “And this is what my title demands—what my father demands.”

“Then tell him once we’ve healed your son, that you plan to continue traveling with us. Once we’ve gained more allies, he’ll see that you’re just as useful as any boy could have been. He’ll give you more freedom to be yourself—”

“I am being myself! I am both a woman who cherishes freedom and a Rajkumari who has long resigned herself to a life devoid of it. You have to understand the differences between our courts—the differences between a Sat-Nesut of Kemet and a Jambudvīpan Rajkumari—”

“I was a wreck when we met,” Helios presses. “I was barely holding myself together, lashing out at whoever tipped me just a fraction closer to the edge. Then we met and you made me smile. I didn’t think that after watching my mother die, I would ever be able to smile again.”

In the silence that follows, I peek up at Juba. He peeks back, holding my gaze until Raja speaks.

“It was…a very long time before I learned to smile again, following my own mother’s death,” she says softly. “When my son was born, and I was told he was healthy, strong, I…”

“You don’t have to—”

He stops short, and it’s a moment before Raja continues. “I truly felt joy for the first time in so long, even in the face of my husband’s murder and my own brush with what lies beyond this life. But ever since, I’ve tried to bury the feeling. This palace is riddled with unseen danger, and though Dasharatha might one day be Blessed as my father is, I will not. I will never have any protection but my own wits and cautious nature.”

“You can’t honestly mean that you never want your own son to see his mother smile.”

“It will keep him safe.”

“It’ll make him wonder if he’s ever allowed to smile, or if he has to hide and cower his whole life, too.”

Suddenly, I feel like I shouldn’t be hearing this conversation. It’s too personal, too emotional. A second glance at Juba and I can see the same hesitance in his own gaze.

“And what would you have me do?” Raja demands. “Risk putting him through what I experienced as the cost of a single grin?”

“I’d have you look for allies the same as we are,” Helios fires back. “Find friends who will help you purge the dangers from this place—find someone who’ll watch your back when you drop your guard and smile.”

“There is no one who would—”

“I would! I already have!”

“For two who nagged at us for being too loud in the morning, I think you’ve both proven yourselves to be hypocrites,” Juba groans. “What’s made you bicker this time?”

“Shouldn’t you be resting, Heli?” I ask, lifting a heavy hand to wipe at my eyes.

“I’m fine,” he huffs, arms crossed and cheeks bright pink. “You’re the one who’s slept for two days.”

“For two whole days?” I look to Juba, who nods. “But the maharaja—”

“Saw that your body had given out upon healing Helios, and so ordered that you were to go heal the yuvaraja within an hour of waking,” Juba says. “It’s a generous offer, if not a touch unreasonable.”

“His Esteemed Majesty rarely adjusts his demands,” Raja says, walking over to kneel before me. Setting her palm against my forehead, she tsks. “You’re still warm. I fear you’ll sleep another two days if you go to my son now.”

“The new moon was...?” I ask.

“Last night,” Juba replies. “It’s nearly noon, so a sliver of moonlight should be visible come dusk.”

I shake my head. “I can hardly feel Isis. I’ll have no power today to turn back time for the yuvaraja.”

“The two of us went to speak with the maharaja just a bit ago,” Helios says, nodding at Raja. “I told him everything I could remember, and everything that Juba told me, to fill in the blanks.”

“You didn’t go with them?’ I ask.

“Unless directly commanded to, I’d no intention of leaving your side,” he says, refusing to look away even as his cheeks flush.

“His Esteemed Majesty was already aware of most everything that’d occurred,” Raja says. “As such, he’s already commanded a barrel of seawater be brought to my son’s primary chambers. It might take longer for Helios to heal him, alone, but so long as Dasharatha shows even the slightest signs of improvement, my father is willing to consider his demands met.”

“It took half a day to heal myself,” Helios notes. “But if I don’t sip seawater every hour or so, I start to feel sick again—and I was only poisoned for roughly a half hour. Given how long he’s been sick, I really don’t know if I’ll be able to fully cure Dasharatha.”

“As soon as the moon is fuller, I can help,” I try, but he shakes his head.

“Have you forgotten why we came here? Earning the maharaja’s alliance isn’t our only goal, Selene. We’ve still got to find and save Cearion.”

“Surely he’ll be alright. It’s only been—”

“A month. A full month since we fled Kemet.”

The realization hits me like a blow to the chest. How can so much time have passed already? “In our first lives, word of Ceari’s death came less than two months after our enslavement.”

“Which means we can’t afford to linger here, playing games with someone who has all the time in the world to toy with us.”

“Watch your mouth,” Raja snips, but doesn’t disagree with him.

“What are you suggesting?” Juba asks.

Helios sucks in a deep breath through his nose, and releases it through his mouth. “I think I might have to stay here while the two of you go after Cearion.”

“I can’t just—” I begin, but Helios fixes me with a hard stare.

“I don’t want to be separated any more than you do, but there’s no chance the maharaja will let us both go. Especially not now that he’s convinced we can cure his grandson.”

“You don’t want to leave before the boy’s healed, regardless. Do you?” Juba asks.

Helios shakes his head. “I know the power of the moon would heal Dasharatha faster, but by the time Selene’s recovered from healing me, and then recovered again from healing him, Cearion might already be dead.”

Much as I don’t want to agree, I know he’s right. “And what of Ptolemy? She struggled enough just getting to this palace—who knows what she’d do if confronted by someone like Taurus?”

“Hard as it is to believe, she might just be safest within these walls,” Juba says, and Helios agrees.

“So…what do we do now?” I ask. “I can’t imagine that one simply asks for a meeting with Maharaja Ashoka.”

“Just as one does not casually call out his first name.” Raja heaves a sigh. “I will ask to speak with him, to tell him of your plans and concerns. If possible, he might be willing to meet as soon as Helios has finished his first healing session with my son.”

“Sounds good to me,” Helios says, offering her a hand as she rises. “Lead the way. I’d like to see how much I can heal someone else before my strength gives out.”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but do consider your own wellbeing,” Raja laughs, then turns back toward me. “Rest until I’ve some news to share. You’ll need it.”

“Listen to her,” Helios commands, and even Juba nods his agreement.

I snuggle back into place against Juba’s chest without complaint, content to fall back asleep if that’s what everyone so desires of me. But once Helios and Raja have left, I begin fiddling with the hem of my tunic as anxious thoughts race by one after the next.

Hardly ten minutes have passed when Juba guesses at my troubled thoughts, and offers to share them.

I take him up on the offer, grateful for the ability to bare my soul without fear. It’s something I cherished in my relationship with the first Juba, and value even more with this new one who is not nearly as soft and considerate, but nonetheless attentive.

Together we sit whispering of our concerns, theories, and hopes until my stomach’s growls echo off the walls. A servant dressed head to toe in orange arrives with a plate of white cheese and grapes not a moment later.

We’ve barely the chance to finish the plate when a knock precedes the arrival of two more servants in orange, their heads bowed and each carrying a pile of silver cloth.

“We’ve come to dress you both, by command of Her Serene Highness,” the one on the left says, without looking up.

“Both of us?” Juba asks, helping me to stand. “I’m not—”

“You are to follow me,” the servant on the right says, raising her head as she turns toward the door. “You will dress in a different chamber.”

“Selene?”

I squeeze his hand. “Go. I’ll meet with you when we’re done.”

He nods, squeezes my hand back, and follows the servant from the room.

As soon as the door closes, the servant is on me.

With a stunning efficiency the women help me to change from my shalwar and tunic, explaining the names of each piece as she settles it into place. First, a jewel-encrusted lehenga skirt, then a short-sleeved choli top.

When that is done the servant gathers my hair to pin beneath a mass of lilies, before she sets a heavy line of silver and pearl bangles half-way up my forearms, and I’m directed to step into a pair of silk slippers.

When all is done, a long, translucent veil is set over my head as a finishing touch.

“It’s all so beautiful,” I say, wishing there were a copper mirror in the room for me to see the full glory of myself.

“This way, Rajkumari,” the servant says, waving toward the door. When I step into the hall, I find Juba already awaiting me, dressed in a fine tunic of deep blue and shalwar of black. He smiles upon seeing me, and I take his offered arm.

“Does a Rajkumari’s apparel suit me?” I ask.

“Just as much as your blessing gown did,” he replies, and together we follow the servants to a large pair of scarlet doors. Just outside of them, Ptolemy stands in identical attire to mine, whilst Helios stands at her side in a tunic of silver and shalwar of white.

“Heli—,” I begin, but the doors fly open, and a flurry of music fills the air.

Sprawled out before us, a rainbow of silk cushions lines the path toward a raised dais. Men and women in beautiful silken attire sit chatting, passing platters of meats and fruits amongst themselves.

In the back, by the marble-pillared walls, men play brown flutes and strum strange, stringed instruments. A few feet away, women dance in swaying steps, their veils blooming around them like the petals of roses.

“Enter!” the maharaja calls, beckoning us with a wide grin. At his side, Raja stands with her hands clasped and cheeks unusually pink.

When we are close enough, my siblings, Juba, and I drop to our knees.

“All of Jambudvīpa owes you a debt of gratitude,” Maharaja Ashoka declares, and all others fall silent. “For what you have done for my yuvaraja, I deem you worthy of the grandest rewards my empire can offer.”

“You are too kind,” I say, keeping my head bowed. “We did only what we should have, as the remnants of your loyal, ancestral allies from across the Medi. But if you would be so kind, Your Esteemed Sire, our mother told us to seek your wisdom both for how to reclaim Kemet and how to locate our elder brother Cearion.”

The maharaja tsks. “I believe you worthy of far more than that. Raise your heads—all of you! Face me as I deliver my decree!”

We do, and from the corners of our eyes Helios and I share a confused glance. This man stands atop the world. There is no guessing at what reward he has a mind to bestow upon us.

Throwing his arms wide, the maharaja stands. “Let my gratitude be made clear via the following gifts: for Cleo’s memory, I offer advice. For Antonius’ memory, I now formally renew Jambudvīpa’s friendship with Kemet. For Selene I offer whatever wish she so asks of me. And for Helios,” he pauses, a glimmer in his old eyes. “I offer familial ties.”

Whispers spread like wildfire around us, whilst Raja wrings her hands with a stony expression and reddening cheeks.

“What does that mean, exactly?” Helios asks.

“Marriage, of course,” the maharaja beams. “I offer you a place at my side as Serene Rajkumar of Jambudvīpa—husband to my loyal rajkumari. You may accept and give thanks whenever you are ready.”

***