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

flitting from window to window and waving to the people whizzing past. If she hadn’t already known Aniri and Devesh were lovers, she certainly did now. As did everyone on the train platform. Priya had wisely avoided the subject since they had boarded.
    The car had been cleared of the normal rows of seats to provide a small receiving area, complete with large cushioned pillows for sitting, low tables, and tea service. Aniri sat on one of the few train car benches remaining, her gaze fixed on the subjects of her Queendom as the train hurtled past them. Word had traveled fast of her impending nuptials, and many citizens from the smaller villages had gathered at intersections to wave. Occasionally, a flower-laden wedding streamer had been hung, wishing her good luck.
    It pulled at her, and not only because the marriage was a ruse.
    The people of Dharia were gentle and loving to a fault, greeting her with nothing but well wishes on her departure. They were proud she was off to marry a barbarian prince to bring peace to borderlands and justice for those who had lost their loved ones. The nausea surged back, and Aniri stood, suddenly determined to combat it with more than sitting morosely in her seat. The train swayed under her, and the distant whistle of the engine called to her countrymen and women as it passed. Aniri gripped the back of the seat and briefly contemplated returning to the tiny sleeping compartment in the back, near the privy. But her mission was to find what secrets Prince Malik was hiding, including his flying weapon, if it existed. Maybe pursuing that would keep the nauseous feeling that she was making the mistake of her life at bay. She marched to the front of the car and wrenched up the handle of the door to the brief passage between her car and the prince’s.
    The door was locked.
    Her movement caught Janak’s attention. “Where do you think you’re going, your royal eminence?” Janak’s usual lack of respect for her title arched a little higher. His insolence would wear thin, on this very train ride, she could tell already.
    Aniri wrenched the door once more, but it wouldn’t give. “I would pay my future husband a visit. The official courtship period has begun; I’m well within my rights to request an appointment. And I have several questions for the young prince.” She dared Janak with her eyes. He could sulk all he liked, but if she were to be a spy, he couldn’t be hovering over her every moment of the day.
    Janak narrowed his eyes but didn’t argue. “I hope your most royal highness will permit me to fulfill my duties as she fulfills hers.”
    If she were to have any hope of success in this mission, it would make sense to have Janak at her back. In Jungali, the threats would be more substantial than urgent kisses from a courtesan. Perhaps she should make peace with Janak now, before they reached the rugged mountain provinces. She tilted her head to him, very slightly. “Prudence was always your strength, Janak.”
    “And your weakness, Princess.”
    So much for peace overtures. “Will you request an audience with the prince or must I do it myself?”
    He nodded curtly and strode to a speaker box at the rear of the train car. While he navigated the niceties of arranging a meeting with the prince, Aniri studied the train door and its simple lock. Priya appeared by her side, a smile sly on her face. She pulled a pin from her hair and bent it until it snapped in two.
    Aniri raised her eyebrows. “And what do you plan to do with that?”
    “One should always make friends with whomever one can, my lady. One never knows what new skills one might learn.” She bent to the door’s small keyhole, slipping one-half of the pin in and holding it taut, while working the other inside. Two clicks occurred in quick succession, and the door cracked open.
    Aniri shook her head and grinned. “And which friend of yours taught you to pick locks?”
    Priya tucked the two half-pins back into her hair.