As if Jaya trusted those innocent doe eyes. Isha thought she was much more naive than she really was. Lowering her voice, Jaya said, “And boys have gotten you in trouble in the past.”

“That is so typical,” Isha hissed. “You treat me like such a baby sometimes. It wasn’t boys that got me in trouble. It was the stupid rules.”

Jaya opened her mouth to respond—something scathing about the virtues of rules; she hadn’t worked out the details yet—but a jovial voice interrupted.

“Bonjour! Are you beautiful ladies new?”

Jaya turned toward the rich French-accented voice. Two boys had rounded the corner and now stood before them. The tall, broad one who had just spoken smiled warmly, like he was greeting old friends. His skin was a golden brown and his straight dark hair hung to his shoulders. Jaya was fairly good at guessing ethnicities, and she thought he was likely a blend of Southeast Asian and Western European.

Isha set her bag down and stepped forward before Jaya could stop her, proffering a hand. “Isha Rao. This is my sister, Jaya. I’m a sophomore, and she’s a senior.” They shook, and Jaya managed not to wince at Isha’s firm handshake, a reminder of her sister’s… indomitable spirit.

Jaya pushed her annoyance away. It wasn’t entirely Isha’s fault. No one would’ve known what Isha was up to if the loathsome Emersons hadn’t set her up. Why blame Isha for the Emersons being a bunch of grunting troglodytes wrapped in aristocratic finery? Just thinking of it made Jaya want to strike something. (Not that she ever would. That behavior wouldn’t be befitting the heiress to the Rao dynasty.)

The Emersons and Raos had been at it for a long time. In fact, Jaya and Isha’s father, or Appa as they called him, said he couldn’t remember a time when the clans weren’t fighting. In the mid-1800s, during the British colonization of India, the Emerson family had infamously stolen a beloved and sacred ruby from one of Mysuru’s temples. Even after India had achieved independence, the Emersons refused to return the ruby, claiming it had belonged to them all along.

But Jaya’s great-great-grandmother got the last laugh. She cursed the ruby, something about it bringing misfortune to the Emersons and eventually resulting in a termination of the bloodline. She also made sure to circulate the news about the curse far and wide—far enough and wide enough to reach the Emersons. To make them sweat and rue the day they’d cheated the Raos, ostensibly.