So while she imagined everything going wrong and the sense of dread rose and rose within her like a tide, she nodded to those she passed as she would on any other day.

It is fine. Everything is fine. Convince yourself and they will believe it too.

The familiar distance to the bedrooms seemed to have doubled, and were it not for the guards at the end of the corridor, she would have burst through Satyendra’s door, rather than pausing to sing for entry.

He didn’t immediately reply and it enraged her. On top of everything else I have to endure his petty protests! Very aware that the guards were watching her, she gave them a polite smile and they saluted.

It is fine. Everything is fine.

From where they were standing it was possible for someone in the room to reply and the noise not to reach them, so she nodded, as if she had heard Satyendra give her permission to enter, and strode inside.

The room appeared empty at first glance. Of course it did! Satyendra was still hiding in the wardrobe. He wouldn’t come out until he’d heard the knock. They’d agreed long ago that unless he heard the knock he should assume it unsafe.

He’s only doing what I told him to. She felt bad about her earlier frustration. No wonder the guards were looking at her strangely, to them it would appear as if she was asking for permission to enter from an empty room!

It is fine. She thought as she moved over to the frosted glass. Everything is still fine.

She gave the knock, a rapid succession of beats with very brief pauses, three, two, three, five. Considering what a hateful thing it was part of, she’d been surprised how much she’d enjoyed setting it up. There was a pleasure in taking on a challenge, and Satyendra had worked with her, one of the rare times when they’d both pulled in the same direction.

He didn’t come out straight away, so she gave the knock again, sharper, her barely repressed anxiety coming out in the notes her knuckles made on the glass.

When there was no response a second time she pulled open the door and it was all she could do not to scream.

Satyendra was not there.

Do something, Chandni! She urged herself, and yet she remained rooted to the spot, repressing the uncharacteristic urge to break something.

If she could work out where Satyendra was, she might have a chance. She knew his favourite haunts, and his secret ones. Even the courtyard he went to when he thought she was distracted. But if he’d left the room, surely the guards would have seen and recognized him?