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

Queen’s servants. It was an embarrassment of riches compared to the prince and his tiny entourage, which consisted solely of the prince and his bulky attendant. They stood near his train car, consulting about something in earnest. Unlike earlier, his guard was now heavily armed with a wide-barreled flintlock pistol strapped to his leg and twin daggers sheathed at the small of his back.
    The prince similarly carried both a sword and a bronze-handled dagger strapped to his waist. The Dharian finery he had worn at court had been replaced by rugged traveling attire more in keeping with her expectations of the Jungali—a linen shirt casually open at the neck but secured with leather bindings at the wrists and trim, woolen pants tucked into his black boots. His knee-length open coat, with its leather chest straps hanging loose, made him look like a Samirian pirate, the kind who raided Dharian vessels long ago, before peace had been brokered with arranged marriages and trade. Yet he still managed to look regal. Perhaps it was the way he stood: more confident in his barbarian clothing than when she’d first seen him in the Queen’s Grand Chamber.
    “He is rather handsome, in a coarse, barbarian kind of way,” Priya said, standing at her side. As she spoke, the prince glanced their way, as if he could hear her over the chugging of the steam engine pulling at its brakes. Aniri quickly turned her attention to her handmaiden, avoiding the prince’s gaze.
    “I’m not marrying him for his looks, Priya,” Aniri said quietly. Her handmaiden couldn’t be trusted with the truth of Aniri’s mission. Or even the contents of her daily diary, for that matter. “Or for his charm.”
    “Is he charming as well, my lady?” Priya’s eyes lit. She must think this adventure grand, dangerous, and romantic, and Aniri couldn’t entirely spoil her illusions without destroying her cover. The dangerous part was accurate at least. But Aniri’s misery in this marriage would make little sense when she had chosen it herself. “I suppose you will see for yourself, once we’re in Jungali.”
    Priya smiled, unabashedly turning to linger a look on Prince Malik. “Do you suppose the other Jungali men are so handsome?”
    “Priya,” Aniri said, exasperated. “We’re arranging my marriage, not yours.”
    “Of course, my lady.” She leaned close to whisper. “And who said anything about marriage?”
    Aniri rolled her eyes, tired of talking about romance that would not be hers. “Will you please check on our train car? Make sure there is nothing we will have need of, but somehow left behind. If that’s possible.”
    Their marriage had supposedly been arranged to bring peace and quell the incursions at the border. After the formal engagement party and courtship period in Jungali, the wedding would cement their new alliance. She was supposedly leaving Dharia for good, so it made sense to bring her every earthly possession. But she intended to be home again well before the month-long courtship period was up.
    Priya scurried off in her silk-slippered feet to join Janak, who was supervising the servants loading Aniri’s multitude of trunks. As soon as all her packages were loaded, she would board, but she wanted to stand on Dharian soil as long as possible.
    She had made her goodbyes over an early morning meal taken with her mother and sisters. It had been a quiet affair. Aniri couldn’t be sure if Nahali knew the truth, but she was sure Seledri had only been told the lie. The pain in her eyes had been nearly unbearable. Aniri couldn’t face Devesh—she had taken the coward’s way out by leaving him a note. Priya promised it had been delivered to his bedside, so he would see it upon waking.
    The train station was just outside the gates of the capital city of Kartavya, whose sandstone walls caught the morning sun and appeared even more rosy. Aniri had spent nearly all of her life inside the city. For all the times she imagined breaking free,