Free Third Daughter (The Dharian Affairs, Book One) by Susan Kaye Quinn

blow.
    “Devesh, you are a foolish boy.” There were tears in Aniri’s eyes, blurring her sight of him, even as she reached for his shoulders to see if he was all right.
    “Foolish?” he said with a smirk. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to take a swing at Janak almost from the day I met him.”
    “He’s
raksaka
. He could have killed you before you raised a hand to defend yourself. Are you
mad
?”
    Devesh peered down into her eyes. “I’m mad about you, Aniri.” He crumpled up the parchment still in his hand, threw it to the station platform, and took her hand in his. “You cannot do this. You know this marriage is a horrible mistake. I beg of you—come with me. It’s not too late. We can leave right now. A cousin of mine is waiting with a carriage. He can secret us away in a cottage in the lowlands by the coast until we can find passage across the sea to Samir.”
    Aniri slowly pulled her hand from hers. “I… I can’t, Dev.” She took a half step away and almost turned her back on his pain-filled eyes before her lips could betray her. Any declaration of love on the platform, with dozens of onlookers, would doom her chance of making the subterfuge work. He was her lover. She
had
to leave him behind. But her gaze fell to the trunk Devesh had brought, and she couldn’t help hoping.
    “Are you boarding the train, Dev?” Her voice was whispery and soft, her breath catching in her throat. Would he leave everything behind for her? He frowned, then scooped up the case by the intricately carved handle. Only then did she recognize it. He held it up, flat, presenting it to her as he had her blade the day before.
    “Jungali is no place for a Samirian diplomat, princess. But your majesty will want her favorite weapons for this trip.” Then he clamped his lips into a tight line.
    Aniri took hold of the handle and lifted it from his hands. It was heavier than she expected. “It was kind of you to remember.”
    Devesh stepped close to her, and Aniri was afraid he might try to kiss her again, but he held a respectful space between them. “Be careful, my lady,” he said softly. “These are dangerous people.” For a flash moment, Aniri thought he had guessed everything—her mission, the subterfuge, her true love for him—but the pain in his eyes told her differently. “If anything happens to you, Aniri...”
    She stepped back and gripped her trunk more firmly. She forced the words from her mouth. “Goodbye, Dev.”
    As she strode toward the train, every face on the station platform followed her. Priya awaited her at the door to the train car. Aniri climbed aboard and refused to look back.
    A part of her heart ripped from her chest and remained on the platform with Devesh.

The sway of the train car and the heated, stale air within it made Aniri nauseous. Or possibly it was the fact that she was traveling to the frozen wastelands of the north, having abandoned the boy she loved in favor of a loveless marriage to a barbarian prince.
    She breathed through her nose and let it out slowly between her teeth, calming the contents of her stomach and her nerves. It would only come to that if she failed in her true mission; yet it still felt like the train was barreling down its track toward a cage of her own making.
    Janak stewed in the corner, watching the waving stalks of grain fly past the window and studiously ignoring her. Their confrontation on the platform had left him in an ill-temper, and she wasn’t any happier with him. Janak was fully aware that Devesh posed no threat to her, yet he had dared to lay hands on him. It was an insult under the guise of protection, and she knew it full well. Now that Janak knew the real nature of her mission, he was deprived of the chance to gloat over her impending marriage. It must eat at him like a burr buried under all those raksaka wrappings.
    They had a long journey ahead in which he could stew. It was a small solace to her.
    Priya floated the length of the train car,