Smiling, Jaya straightened her ruby necklace.

Her phone rang with the video-chat tone, and before answering, Jaya shrugged into the shimmery bolero that went with her dress. Her parents’ faces smiled at her from the screen.

“Hi, Appa, Amma!” she said, pressing “answer.” A twinge of homesickness prodded at her when she saw their loving, comfortably familiar faces.

There was a knock on her door and Isha entered, wearing a black dress with lime-green bows along the back, her hair straightened so it hung to her waist. She bounded up to the phone and waved at their parents.

“You both look so pretty!” Amma said. “Is the mixer tonight?”

“Yes,” Jaya answered. “It should be fun!”

“Don’t talk with boys,” Appa said immediately. “Just say it’s against your culture.”

Isha snorted, and Jaya elbowed her off-screen. “Yes, Appa,” she said demurely.

“Isha, that means you, too,” Amma said. “Don’t forget what happened not too long ago.”

Isha was immediately more serious. “I remember,” she mumbled.

“Jaya, you’ll take care of her, won’t you?” Amma said.

“Of course I will,” Jaya replied, putting an arm around her sister. “That’s my job.”

Isha rolled her eyes and groaned. “Why can’t you all stop treating me like I’m six years old?”

“You’ll always be my baby,” Amma said, smiling fondly at the two of them.

Appa took a more serious tack. “How are things there? Has anyone said anything…?”

“No,” Jaya responded, equally seriously. “We’re fitting in well.”

“Even though Grey—” Isha began, but Jaya quieted her with a look. There was no need to mention Grey at all. It would just upset their parents.

“Hmm?” Amma asked, leaning toward the camera. “Even though what?”

“Even though gray… gray skies prevail, we shall see it through!” Isha said, smiling brightly.

“Erm, yes, victory will be ours,” Jaya said, adopting an equally bogus, cheery-to-the-point-of-being-scary grin. “Anyway,” she continued. “We should probably go. But we’ll call you soon!”

“Okay, take care, both of you,” Appa said. “We’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye, chinnu,” Amma said in a wobbly voice, her eyes shiny. Chinnu was her term of endearment for her two daughters, and hearing it made Jaya feel a little sick at the thought of the lie she’d just told.

She pushed the “end” button and turned to Isha. “Wow.” She blew out a breath. “Good save there.”

“Mediocre save,” Isha corrected. After a pause, she said, “Why we can’t tell them about Grey Emerson, again?”

“Because we don’t want to worry them,” Jaya said. Guilt squirmed in her stomach like a nest of snakes. She abhorred lying, generally. It was crass and craven and behavior not befitting a royal. But wasn’t all fair in love and war? This was definitely war. Grey Emerson may not know it yet, but Jaya certainly did. “What’s the point, when they can’t do anything about it?”

“Right,” Isha said thoughtfully.