War councils had consumed the fortress for three days. Kabir sat at the head of the long table in the strategy room, maps spread before him like the entrails of some great beast, markers representing armies arranged in careful formations. His generals spoke in low voices, pointing to passes and rivers, discussing supply lines and troop movements, debating the merits of defense versus preemptive strike.
But Kabir's mind was not fully on the battle plans. A part of him remained upstairs, in the chamber where he had left Mehera sleeping among silk sheets, her body marked by his hands and his seed. He could still taste her on his lips. He could still hear her voice whispering that she loved him.
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