Bloodseed

Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Death Has Spared Me Tonight.

Anarkali 

My hands are shaking as I undress, slipping quickly into a white silk chemise that feels like ice against my skin. The scrape of the drawer is too loud as I slip my talwar away, my legs nearly giving out before I collapse onto the bed.

Death has spared me tonight.

I turn my head to the side.

Anaya hasn't stirred, despite the ruckus I made trying to erase every sign of my nighttime endeavor. I'm almost tempted to wake her and tell her what sin I've committed for her. Just to assure myself that despite all I have done, I still live.

And the man behind the darkness in our empire does not.

I wring my hands together, trying to ignore the pit of worry blooming in my stomach. Instead, I focus on Anaya's familiar features, letting my eyes linger over a face that resembles Mama a lot more than mine. I stare at it for hours.

What would she say if she saw me now?

Would she call me brave for protecting Anaya? Or would she side with the thoughts churning inside my head?

Murderer.

I push the filthy word away from my mind, focusing on my breaths.

I am not a murderer for killing a man that has made thousands bleed. The man who promised our dying land prosperity and aid, only to conquer us all. The man who now wants to control my father by using his innocent daughter.

I am not a murderer.

And I will not regret what I have done, no matter what my mother would have thought.

She is gone, after all.

Golden-pink streaks have begun to color the sky now, and my exhaustion has begun to weigh on me, my eyelids heavy. The distance chirping of sparrows is all I hear before slipping into a heavy slumber.

***

"Anar!" Someone grips my arm. "Anar, wake up!"

Pain spikes through my head, and I groan, slipping further into the covers. Anaya calls my name again, tugging away the sheet covering me. Gold afternoon light stings my eyes.

"Bas, Anaya, please," I mumble. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Baba says we have guests, and if you don't wake up, we'll have to present you in your night clothes, Aapi."

My eyes fly open.

"Guests?"

Anaya's already donned her favorite kurti, holding two pairs of jhumke between her delicate fingers. I sit up, pressing two fingers to my nose bridge. Everything in my body is sore from head to toe.

"Alright, quickly, which ones match my clothes?" She holds both to her ears, grinning.

I can't help but smile back at her.

"Hmm," I squint my eyes, pretending to think carefully. "How about the pink ones? They match the embroidery on your shirt."

She frowns, turning to the mirror.

"But Baba said the silver ones bring out my eyes."

I take a deep breath, my feet digging into the Persian rug beneath them.

"What guests are we having, Anaya?"

She shrugs, settling on the dainty silver ones before putting them on.