Each clan had to provide a certain amount of men, proportional to their population size, for the wars being waged. It was definitely a bad idea to give favor to some, one the Badshah would abhor, but what else was there to offer?

Naeem-sahib paused, considering the offer.

“With fewer men going to war, you have more hands for the fields,” Durkhanai continued. “You can thus take some women out of the fields and have them watch the children of your neighbor’s tribe.”

Durkhanai used a similar tactic with some of the other tribes who weren’t hit as heavily by the illness. Following Naeem-sahib’s lead, other tribe leaders agreed as well.

But it wasn’t the end of trying to settle things in the villages.

“When will the ambassadors leave?” somebody asked her at one point.

“When negotiations have been settled,” Durkhanai replied. The man sighed in response, almost rolling his eyes.

“Problem?” she snapped. He immediately stood straight, stammering.

“No, no, Shehzadi,” he said, lowering his head.

Durkhanai noticed this throughout the villages: the people were being . . . strange around her. Like they knew something she didn’t. It made her feel bitter, quick to snap at anyone with even the slightest changed tone of voice.

She did not respond well to anything short of adoration.

It was the same, day after day, for weeks while Dhadi continued negotiations to ensure the ambassadors left to never return.

Durkhanai visited the various villages of her mountain, and everything seemed to be in chaos since Rukhsana-sahiba’s departure. Durkhanai barely had time to do anything but reassure her people, to calm the rising war cries and the discontent.

At the very least, the calls for unification had died out, though they had been replaced by the zealous push for the foreigners’ departures.

The ambassadors had all extended their stays to further discuss negotiations and draft a consolidated peace treaty. Rukhsana-sahiba was gone. That was one less person to worry about, supposedly Durkhanai’s biggest concern.

So why didn’t Durkhanai feel safe in her own home?

Rukhsana-sahiba’s words haunted Durkhanai: you will never be badshah.

Somehow, July had tumbled into August, the summer and the heat fleeting for the crisp bite of autumn and the inevitable freeze of winter.

Everything was slipping between her fingers like sand grains falling to the wind and the tighter she held on the faster they fell. Almost like she was losing control over everything.

She had a creeping, haunting feeling that tasted bitter in her mouth and raked against her chest like frustration and anger. She found herself continually walking with a clenched jaw, hands curled into little fists.

The light and sunshine of summer was fading much too fast.

The haunting feeling in her gut came to fruition one day when she arrived back at her palace.

“Shehzadi, the Badshah and the Wali await you in the presence chamber,” a servant told her.

“Khairiyat?” she replied. “Is everything alright?”