Family dinners had been a tradition in the Shian household for as long as Rito could remember. Ordinarily, she always looked forward to them.
Her father had always been a busy man, and as she and Abhi got older, there were few occasions for them to spend time together as a family. Having dinner together gave them an opportunity to do just that. And whenever the siblings were in Qayit, they made it a point to always be home for dinner, whenever possible.
It had been two weeks since her arrest, and in that time these dinners had become more of a chore than a pleasure. The atmosphere was always tense, awkward, and she couldn’t help feeling a little on edge whenever she and Abhijat were in the same room together.
Their parents knew nothing of what’d happened, and both she and Abhi planned to keep it that way. Rajat and Lyani had enough on their plates already, the last thing they needed was to have one more thing to worry about.
That night, Jehan had dropped her off at a park a few minutes’ walk from her home, and had made her promise not to tell Abhijat about their meeting. She could see the logic of that; knowing Jehan had bailed his sister out would only make Abhijat more suspicious of him.
And of course, Abhi had every reason to be suspicious. She’d have been too, in his place.
The problem was, all of this made it mighty hard for her to do what she needed to. She’d told her brother that it’d all been a misunderstanding, that Dileep Haval had retracted his statement to the police and had gotten her out once everything had been cleared up.
But it was a flimsy lie with a million holes and inconsistencies; Rito had never pretended to be a good liar. She could tell he didn’t believe her, not completely. And if he hadn’t been keeping a close eye on her before, he certainly was now.
Even if he didn’t think she was lying to him, he definitely did think she’d been duped and manipulated by Haval and Fasih. Really, she didn’t know whether she’d rather be a fool or a liar in his eyes.
The table had been set by Abhi and their mother by the time Rito entered the dining room with Rajat. The number of servants in their home had dwindled steadily ever since the death of her grandfather, and after Rajat’s resignation their mother had dismissed all but the oldest members of the staff.
It wasn’t so much that they couldn’t afford the expense, but she enjoyed the extra privacy, and none of them particularly minded having to do the vacuuming and set the table every once in a while. Rito had never done any chores before she left home for college, and she kind of enjoyed the novelty of it.
Dinner was served, and they spent the first few minutes catching up, making small-talk. Rito wasn’t used to keeping secrets, especially not from her family, the people she loved and trusted most in the world.
It made conversations harder, always having to be careful of what she said. She wasn’t particularly good at it. She wondered if she should take lessons from Fasih. He seemed to be a master of doublespeak, spoke it like his mother-tongue. Perhaps her brother was right not to trust him after all.
Soon, the conversation shifted to politics, as it always did, sooner or later. In particular, Rajat wanted to know about the situation in parliament and the upcoming New Year’s party in Maralana.
Jehan’s popularity had climbed steadily ever since the resolution of the dam dispute between Eraon and Ishfana and the signing of the water-sharing agreement between the two states. Even his old critics had begun praising his initiative and his innovative approach to conflict resolution.
“They aren’t wrong, really,” Rajat said, idly mixing curry with his rice. “I mean, if I’d known the boy had such a knack for politics, I’d have gotten him involved with the party sooner.
“He just never showed any interest in political affairs; only voted in the last election because Ruqaiya told him to.” He shook his head, frowning. “Still, no one can deny that he’s doing good work.
“He resolved the Vanya dam issue and prevented a water crisis in Eraon, which would probably have cost the exchequer millions and ravaged the state for years. And if I understand things correctly, he also did play a significant role in dismantling that club in Weritlan that was using Amven for child trafficking.”
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Abhijat sneered. “And I’m sure Rinisa Rayeek has her name on half a dozen charities and orphanages. That means nothing. Everything he’s doing is just a front for something far more sinister than anyone can see at the moment. Fasih and his coterie can’t be trusted.”
“And you know all this because?” Rajat raised a brow, looking inquiringly at his son. “Look Abhi, I know you’re angry with him. And I’m not saying your anger isn’t justified. I was furious with him for months because of what he did.
“But I’ve known Jehan since he was a boy. And while it’s true he can be an annoying, conniving little shit, I’ve never known him to be malicious. I still don’t agree with his methods, but you can’t deny he’s done a lot of good since he became prime minister. And he cleaned out a lot of corruption in the administration, something I should’ve done while I still sat on that chair.”
Abhijat nearly jumped out of his seat. “You can’t possibly blame yourself for his betrayal–”
“Of course I don’t,” Rajat raised a hand, gesturing for the younger man to calm down. “But I also can’t deny the fact that I spent years trusting the wrong people, allowing them to influence decisions and policies that affected the whole country. Members of my Cabinet had received bribes from Maralana, I should’ve known that.
“I didn’t sit on that chair for personal gain, or because I enjoy wearing a paper crown and smiling for the cameras. Ministers are supposed to serve the people, Abhi,” he said softly. “And if Jehan Fasih is doing a better job of it than I did, I’d be a hypocrite not to accept it and cheer him on.”
“You may have entered politics to serve the nation, but I can assure you that Fasih doesn’t share your motivations,” Abhijat snapped. “Did you know that his family lost their fortune because of grandpa’s land redistribution drive? His father shot himself in front of his eyes. Is it really so unimaginable that he might want some revenge? Like you said, Papa, you spent years trusting the wrong people. Did it ever occur to you that your beloved child prodigy might’ve been one of those people you trusted more than you should’ve?”
Rito could see from her brother’s face that he regretted his words almost as soon as they were out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to snap at their father, but a shorter than average fuse was something of a Shian family trait. She knew all too well what it felt like to say things she didn’t mean, knowing all the while that she’d regret it in the future.
She’d expected Papa to lash out at Abhijat, to rebuke him in some way. This was, after all, still a sensitive subject for him. But Rajat just smiled ruefully and shook his head.
“It’s toxic Abhi, this resentment,” he said at length, looking up to meet his son’s eyes. “It’s natural to resent being deceived, being taken advantage of. But prejudice knows no bounds, and it can make good people do bad things.
“Your grandfather is the perfect example of that, actually…how prejudice can make you do terrible things with the best of intentions. It can make you self-righteous, to the point that you justify horrific cruelty with a sense of misplaced victimhood.
“You say that Jehan wants revenge for what happened to his father, and maybe he does. But have you ever considered, my dearest son, that that may be more true of you than it is of him?”
“Has Qia been in touch with you, yet?” Rito asked Abhijat, trying to diffuse the tension in the room. “How much longer does she plan to stay in Weritlan?”
Ruqaiya had left for Weritlan over a week ago, for a meeting with some local politicians who were reportedly close to Badal’s family. Rito didn’t know much about it, but from what little Abhi had said, she thought Qia might be looking into some of Badal’s dealings with Maganti, particularly in the time he was Deputy PM.
“It’s strange how little you can know about someone you’ve worked with for years.” Rajat shook his head. “Badal had always been a little short-sighted, sometimes even arrogant, but I’d never have suspected him of treason.”
“Well, he certainly wasn’t the only viper you were nurturing in your bosom,” Abhijat muttered, but there was no bite in his voice. He seemed resigned to being the voice of reason everyone ignored.
“But surely, Ruqaiya will be back before you leave for Maralana, Abhi?” Lyani said, passing round the dessert. “Both she and Fasih can’t be away from the capital at the same time.”
“I guess not,” Abhi said, digging into his ras-malai. “Besides, I daresay much of this mess will be untangled once we get to Maralana.”
Rito hoped he was right. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep lying to them. “I’m going too,” she said, bracing herself.
As she’d expected, the reactions ranged from surprise to outrage.
“Really? But why?” asked her father, frowning.
“Absolutely not,” said Abhijat.
“You’d better pack lots of warm clothes,” Lyani said. “Maralana can get terribly cold this time of year.”
Rito waited for everyone to say their piece. Then she shrugged, trying to project a casual indifference she did not feel. “I’ve been invited by Professor Sinya Haval, who’ll be visiting Maralana with her husband. I’ve always wanted to go there, so I thought it’d be a nice vacation. Besides, Abhi will be there, so there’s really no reason to worry.” She smiled sweetly at her brother, who was glaring daggers at her across the table.
Abhijat didn’t trust Dileep Haval as far as he could throw him, Rito knew that. Perhaps the only way she could’ve made this worse was if she told him the truth, that she was going to Maralana not as Sinya’s guest but as Jehan’s spy.
She rubbed a hand over her eyes, pressing her lips together to suppress a sigh. This was exhausting. “I’m going to go turn on the TV,” she said, walking out of the room as fast as she could without making it seem like she was running away.