“Anyway, there was some fighting between the security guards working at the estate and the farm hands. Some people were injured, but nobody died. But the mob did set fire to the house. Burned it down to a husk by the time the fire department got wind of it.”

“With the family inside?”

“Nah. Everyone escaped. And by everyone, I mean Jehan and the servants. Apparently, Jehan was fast friends with the cook’s daughter. So the cook tried to take him out of the house along with her daughter when the fighting started and the servants began fleeing. Jehan ran to the study to fetch his father, only to find the man holding a hunting rifle to his own head,” she shrugged. “Damn awkward way to die, if you ask me.”

“So he was alive when Jehan found him?”

“Yep.”

“So he–”

“Blew his own brains out in front of his only son? Yep. Classy guy, wasn’t he?”

Abhijat looked away. After a few minutes, he said, his voice strained, “And you think Fasih considers my grandfather responsible for...for all this?”

Ruqaiya swallowed the last of her dessert and nodded. “It’d explain a lot, wouldn’t it?”

“But what happened to his mother?”

Brushing dessert crumbs from her jacket, Ruqaiya sighed. “Wasn’t in the picture. Apparently, Fasih senior married some Maralanese beauty queen who was more interested in the money than the husband. She hightailed it back to her own country as soon as the trouble began, a few months before her husband’s suicide. Hasn’t been back to Naijan since, far as I know.”

“And she left Jehan behind?”

“Seems to be a theme in his life, doesn’t it?”

Abhijat shook his head, a flurry of thoughts whirring through his mind. “So he’s half Maralanese, huh?”

“One-fourth. Apparently, one of his mother’s parents was from Naijan. Don’t know which, though.”

“But she was raised there? In Maralana, I mean.”

“Yep. She went back to her parents’ house when she left Naijan.”

“She has to know where her son is, though. I mean, she must’ve read about him in the papers, if nothing else.”

Ruqaiya frowned, her head cocked to one side. “Probably does. Don’t think she cares, mind. Why? You think there’s a Maralanese connection here? Think Fasih is conniving with Maganti and his lot?”

“Well, he has been to Maralana quite a few times, if I’m not mistaken. Seems to have made great friends with the president too. Maganti dines with him whenever he’s in the country.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Hmm, you’re not wrong. Your father made him the science envoy to Maralana a few years ago. Maganti was falling over himself to please him. Fasih got more funding from Maralana than all his predecessors combined. You think this has got something to do with that drug he’s been developing? Amven, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know, Qia. You tell me. Aren’t you the Minister for Science and Technology?”

“Was,” she smirked, dabbing at her mouth with a tissue. “I’ve had a promotion, didn’t you know?”

“Damn you.”

Ruqaiya signaled for the bill and looked at Abhijat through the corners of her eyes. “Your father is the closest thing to an older brother I’ve ever had, Abhijat. Everything I am today, I owe it to him,” she sighed. “I’d do anything for him, I hope you know that.

“The only reason I accepted Fasih’s offer for the Deputy Premiership is because if I hadn’t, it’d have looked like I was favoring Rajat out of some kind of personal loyalty to him. And true as that is, it’d have hurt his image as much as it’d have hurt mine.”

“I do trust you, Qia. As does Papa. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that. I haven’t spoken to my father yet, but from everything Maa said, I know he’s happy you accepted Jehan’s offer. We need someone to keep an eye on his activities from the inside. As much for this country as for ourselves. With you in the Prime Minister’s inner circle, he wouldn’t be able to do anything without us knowing about it from the get-go. He won’t be able to blindside us again.”

“And he must know all that,” said Ruqaiya, letting out a frustrated breath. “So why did he do it? Why did he shackle himself to me when he didn’t need to? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we need to find a way to get him off that chair as soon as possible. He doesn’t belong there. And no good can come of him occupying that seat, wielding that power. Who knows what he plans to do now that he’s Prime Minister? He needs to go, Qia. And you’re one of the only people I know who can make that happen.”

They stopped talking as the waitress arrived with the bill and Ruqaiya handed her a card. On any other day, Abhijat would have put up a token protest before he allowed her to pay for the meal. Today, he felt too drained to do much more than promising to buy her ice cream on the way back. It seemed to please her well enough.

After the waitress left smiling with a generous tip, Ruqaiya looked at him thoughtfully. Then she smirked, sending a chill down Abhijat’s spine. “What?” he snapped testily.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “How’d you like to be the Prime Minister’s head bodyguard?”

“What?” he said again. His vocabulary this evening left much to be desired.

“Don’t look so surprised, my boy. I have some strings I can pull. I haven’t been navigating the political landscape of this city for the last two decades for nothing, you know. If you want it, you’ll have it. There are more than enough favors I can call in. Question is, if I make you Jehan Fasih’s shadow, will you be able to keep yourself from wringing his pretty little neck first chance you get?”

Abhijat swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “You’re telling me you can give me unfettered access to that bastard?”

“Unfettered, 24-hour access, yes. You can watch him, follow him around, listen to his conversations, maybe even go through some of his papers, if you’re smart about it. But that’s the key, of course. You’ll never get a better chance to gather evidence against Fasih and clear your father’s name, but you’ll have to be smart about it. Which is to say, no losing your temper at inopportune moments, no flying off the handle at the slightest provocation, and no trying to murder him in public. Or in private. Not for the moment, anyway. Think you can manage it?”

“He wouldn’t be happy about it. Fasih, I mean.”

Ruqaiya smiled archly. “No, he wouldn’t. But he won’t be able to do anything about it. You have a military background and an impeccable service record. If Fasih opposes your appointment, it’ll look like he’s still holding a grudge against the former Prime Minister and his family. And that’s not a good look, is it? Let’s see how Dr. Fasih likes a taste of his own goddamn medicine.”

Abhijat stared at her. Then, he threw his head back and laughed. “You’re evil.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”