They began walking again, in silence this time. Isha was the first to speak, her voice suspiciously over-bright. “Quick question: What if I want to take robotics engineering? I was looking in the course catalog and it looks so fun.”

Jaya stared at her sister, who was simultaneously the most intelligent and most stupid person she knew. St. Rosetta’s International Academy had a whole catalog from which students could pick electives. Options ranged from French Cooking to A Study of the History of Russian Ballet to Principles of Global Finance. But, of course, Isha wanted to take robotics engineering. “That is not advisable, Ish.”

“Why not?” Her voice had a hard edge to it. “Plenty of Indian women are engineers.”

“Yes, but they’re not royals,” Jaya reiterated, trying to be patient in spite of her temper beginning to stir and crackle again. She tried to remember that she’d always found it easy to grasp that the rules were different for her than they were for others, simply by virtue of her blood. Isha, though, had fought against her birthright since she was a toddler, screaming “No!” and flinging off her gold bangles before any major event at the palace. Should Isha know better by now? Yes, she should. Did she? No, she absolutely didn’t. But perhaps Jaya could point that out gently, with the extreme diplomacy that had been ingrained in her since birth. She needed a light touch here.

“Isha, are you completely mad?” she blurted, her voice getting louder with each word she spoke. Sometimes a light touch was overrated. “The Emersons had pictures of you cavorting with those men—mechanics in a motorcycle shop!—covered in oil and dirt like some vagrant. Not to mention you were kissing one and hanging all over him and drinking alcohol! Not to mention, you’re wearing the very same T-shirt you were wearing that day! I thought you agreed to get rid of it. You’re lucky the angle of the shot didn’t allow for that quote to be readily seen. That would’ve been just one more thing for our people to latch on to. One among many.” Her cheeks burned at the memory. She’d stared at the pictures for so long, trying to deny that it was her little sister in them. “You looked like some—” Jaya stopped to take a breath. “It’s in our best interests to show you as a respectable member of the royal family.”