New Here? Read or Listen to Child of the River and then join us on this adventure.
As always, there may be spoilers for chapters 31 through the end of the book in this read along.
Sugandha — Chapter 31
Sugandha, after masquerading as a boy for so long, finds joy in plucking a jasmine from a bush and tucking it into her hair. That heavenly smell of jasmine, nestled in her dark hair like a bright moon against a dark sky, is a picture Sugandha wants to paint, even if only for herself, with no admirers around. Sometimes, absence makes us yearn for things we took for granted. When I work from home and the days blur together, sometimes a little lip gloss goes a long way in lifting my spirits. That is the feeling I wanted to leave with Sugandha.
I liked this metaphor: “Each day, the moon grew like a pregnant woman’s belly.” It seemed apt for the dilemma Sugandha is in. And what do you think of what Sugandha’s grandfather taught her, and what he omitted? There are clues to her past in this chapter, and also to what he was preparing her for. Those answers begin to surface in Curse of the River.
The scene at the river with Sugandha, Parvati, and her husband is one of my favorites in this book. I wanted to showcase how Sugandha’s innocence about the marital bed, and her desperation to survive, come together like the ingredients of a fine Indian dish. Sugandha achieving her goal with no idea of how or why was fantastic to write. I wanted readers, who obviously have more worldly experience than our sixteen-year-old protagonist in medieval India, to understand exactly what is happening, while Sugandha remains entirely clueless. Did I pull it off?
April has always felt like a bridge to me, a month where the air shifts, much like the lives of my characters in the Prophesied Prince series. Today, I’m writing to you with a heart full of both excitement and a little creative grief.
On April 23rd, Curse of the River, the second book in our journey, will finally be out in the world.
If you haven’t had a chance to preorder your copy yet, you can do so here. For my wonderful listeners who prefer the immersion of an audiobook, I ask for just a little more patience. While it will arrive a little later, I promise the wait will be worth it.
The Prince and the Girl of Mystery
Writing this book was a deeply personal experience. I found myself spending so much time in the quiet, tense spaces between Prince Atul and Sugandha.
Atul is a character who lingers with me. In Curse of the River, he is grappling with the aftermath of the elixir he ingested at the end of Book One. He is filled with a gnawing sense of unworthiness, struggling to master powers that feel more like a burden than a gift. Then there is Sugandha. After being alone for so long, she is slowly, tentatively learning what it means to rely on someone else.
I didn’t make it easy for him; Atul truly has to earn her trust. They are both struggling with their own magic and, often, with each other. Yet in that friction, they find a way to make one another better.
Here is a glimpse of him earning her trust through his words and actions:
“There’s a mystery surrounding Guru Ori’s niece,” Atul said, “and I believe it’s vital we unravel it if we’re to bring any peace to this land.”
My chest constricted. Would he name me as the niece?
“Nanda,” he said instead, gesturing to me, “saved my life after Chief Vikramasinha’s men struck me with an arrow. He’s heading to Sangadhara, the village of Purohit Parivan, and I’m going with him to uncover the truth.”
The knot in my stomach loosened. He’d kept my secret. In that quiet decision, my heart edged a little closer toward trusting him.
Even though I knew exactly where this story was headed, the ending broke my heart. It has been in the making for over seven years, since I wrote the prophecy in Heir to Malla.
Looking Toward the Horizon: The Trilogy’s Conclusion
While Curse of the River is the focus of my April, my mind is already beginning to settle into the final chapter of this trilogy.
I’m happy to share that the outline for Book Three is complete. I even have a working title, one I’m keeping close to my chest for just a little longer. I know the arcs for all my major characters. I know exactly how their stories conclude in this series.
It is a bittersweet feeling. As an author, it’s hard to say goodbye to characters who have lived in my head for so long. They still surprise me, of course. Even with a full outline, they often take a detour that changes the story as I write. That unpredictability is the most joyful part of the process for me.
I’ve already started the actual writing and am currently 1,500 words into the first draft. Given how Curse of the River ends, I don’t want to make you wait too long for the conclusion.
A Virtual Journey to Medieval India
While we wait for the 23rd, my read-along of Child of the River (Book One) continues.
We’ve been diving deep into the world-building details I love most: the legend of the Lord who is Half Woman (Ardhanarisvara), the ritual magic of ghee, and the looming shadows of sandstone fortresses. It’s a virtual journey into a medieval India I’ve spent years researching and imagining, and I’ve been sharing some fun pictures along the way.
If you haven’t joined the read-along yet, you can start here.
April 23rd is just around the corner. I cannot wait for you to hold Curse of the River in your hands.
Coffee in the morning and chai in the afternoon is fueling my writing and editing spree as I get across the finish line. When I started working on the Prophesied Princeseries, I decided to use more authentic medieval Indian names. Half my editing time now goes into wondering if a place was called Jalpaiguri or Jaipaiguri and opening my glossary for the 100th time. The joys of writing are many!
Other than that, my editing of Curse of the River is moving steadily, and I cannot wait to get this sequel into your hands.
I recently heard back from my beta readers, and their reactions have been everything I hoped for.
One reader shared:
“Wow! That was a sad but powerful ending to the book! OK, I can’t wait for the conclusion. Really enjoyed this book.”
Another was caught off guard by the final pages:
“Wow!!! The story ends with a cliffhanger for both main characters, but the epilogue! That is quite stark and surprising. I very much look forward to seeing where you take us in book three.”
To give you a sense of the tension and emotional depth my beta readers are describing, here is an excerpt from Curse of the River:
Chapter 1 – SugandhaSpring Year 2
For most of that first day on the river, Prince Atul rowed like a man expecting trouble. His gaze swept the banks, searching for signs of pursuit. Whenever he spotted someone, too far from us to tell if they were fishermen or travelers, he quieted his strokes and steered us farther from shore.
Sweat glazed his muscles as he rowed with the strength of three men. Suddenly, his head snapped toward a thicket of trees by the water’s edge; his eyes were sharp and his jaw set. He looked like a hunter watching for movement. I studied him in that moment, still unsure if I had been brave or foolish to ask him to come.
“Crouch,” he whispered, in the kind of voice that expected to be obeyed. He folded in on himself, head tucked to his knees. I stayed upright, eyes sweeping the landscape for whatever had rattled him, until his hand pressed down on my head and forced me lower.
“With instincts like yours, how did you survive this long?” he murmured, a grin tugging at his mouth.
“By not trusting strangers,” I shot back, though I stayed crouched. My brush with the nagas had made me bolder, yes; but I was not foolish enough to believe a divine rescue would come every time I found myself in trouble.
Welcome back to the banks of the river, travelers. If you are just joining us, you’ll want to start at the very beginning. You can find my notes for the Prologue through Chapter 10 right here.
And of course, it is much more fun if you have the story in your hands (or your ears!). If you haven’t yet, you can grab the book here or listen to it on Audible.
Spoiler Warning
We are diving deep into the heart of the story today. If you aren’t caught up through Chapter 20, proceed with caution!
Chapter 11: Crocodiles and Unwanted Affections
In Chapter 11, Sugandha learns a hard lesson: being a hero is exhausting. There is truly no better way to discover the limits of your own magic than while fighting for your life against a crocodile.
But the real “plight” for our protagonist isn’t just the giant, prehistoric beast. It’s the unwanted attention that comes afterward. Because she is disguised as a boy, she earns the admiration of a young woman who starts eyeing her as a future husband. In that moment, can you really blame Sugandha for wishing the crocodile had just finished the job?
No such luck for her, though. I have plenty more ordeals waiting around the bend.
The Cost of Deception
One of my favorite things to explore is the psychological toll of a lie. Sugandha is living as a boy, learning the grueling, beautiful art of swordmaking. These chapters give her a brief respite, a moment of “normal” work, but the guilt is starting to rot.
Her emotions are a mess. She feels terrible for deceiving Parimala, yet she aches for the life she left behind. I wanted to capture that specific longing a girl feels when she has not worn a dress or makeup or jewels in ages. In this medieval world, it is craving for Kajal under her eyes and the scent of jasmine flowers woven into her hair. Every deception runs its course eventually, and Sugandha is beginning to realize that her safety is a very fragile thing.
A Childhood Memory: The Magic of Ghee
Food is the soul of my stories. In this chapter, Sugandha is served extra ghee over her white rice, and writing that took me straight back to my own childhood.
Ghee originated in India over three thousand years ago. In that hot climate, butter would go rancid almost instantly. By heating it to remove the water and milk solids, our ancestors created “ghrita” (Sanskrit for clarified butter), a fat with a long shelf life and a heavenly scent.
Beyond the kitchen, ghee became sacred. It is the purest offering to the gods, used in yagnas (fire rituals) to carry prayers to the heavens.
Favorite Line: > “I felt like I climbed a giant ladder whose rungs shattered with each step I took.”
Read the rest of the behind the scenes of Sugandha’s deception, Atul’s insecurity, and the ancient Tamil ethics that guide my writing on my Substack.
Hello, fellow time travelers! I am so excited to kick off this journey with you. There is something uniquely terrifying and thrilling about opening up the pages of a world I’ve built and saying, “Take off your shoes and come on in.”
If you’ve been following my work, you know Prophesied Prince trilogy is a spin off of my Land of Magadha trilogy. If you’re new here—welcome to the family! Child of the River is where we start a brand new chapter together.
Before we dive into the secrets of the river, a few house rules:
⚠️ A Fair Warning
This post contains spoilers for the prologue and the first ten chapters. If you haven’t grabbed your copy of Child of the River yet, consider this your sign to go get it, find a cozy corner, and catch up so we can chat about it together.
🎨 A Note on History vs. Heart
While I strive to honor the vibrant textures of Indian culture, customs, and (most importantly) food, please remember that I am an author of fiction, not a historian. I’ve taken plenty of artistic liberties to make the magic and the world feel real. To the historians out there: I beg your forgiveness!
Why You Can’t Skip This Prologue
I know, I know. Some of you are “Prologue Skippers.” You want to get straight to Chapter One. Don’t do it. Not only does this Prologue set the stage for everything Sugandha is about to face, but it’s the secret bridge between worlds. For those who have read my Land of Magadhatrilogy, what happens here explains exactly what that mysterious ship was doing at the end of Burden of the Crown.
Read the rest of the secrets and see the historical inspirations on my Substack.
One of the themes I constantly return to, whether I’m writing romance or fantasy, is the question: What truly makes a good ruler?
In my daily life, I’ve always been fascinated by government and policy. In my writing, I find that medieval India provides the perfect “laboratory” to explore these ideas. Setting my stories in this era—specifically emulating the rich culture and laws of the 9th to 11th centuries—allows me to examine leadership and the “human heart in conflict” without the interference of modern political biases.
Medieval India possessed such complex layers of governance that it creates a fantastic playing field for my characters. This is why my protagonists are often of royal blood; it places them at the intersection of love, duty, and the ultimate test of character. I love placing these characters in difficult situations to see how they learn to survive and lead, even when their own power is fragile.
For me, a great leader must be able to sacrifice their own desires for the good of the kingdom. We see this struggle throughout the Prophesied Princetrilogy as Prince Atul grapples with his identity and the weight of his future. He follows in the footsteps of his mother, Meera, from the Land of Magadhaseries, who had to choose between her heart and her land.
I’d love to hear from you: If you could choose just one quality for a leader to have, what would it be? Leave a comment and let’s discuss!
If you haven’t yet stepped into the world of the Prophesied Prince, now is the perfect time. To celebrate the upcoming sequel, Child of the River (Book One) is currently on sale for just $0.99 / £0.99 in the US and UK.
I am absolutely delighted to finally reveal the cover of my upcoming novel, Curse of the River, the second installment in the Prophesied Prince trilogy.
This cover has quickly become one of my favorites. To keep the visual thread tied to the first book, Child of the River, I have returned to the imagery of the crown of Kashgar. However, as the story evolves, so does the symbol of its power.
What to Look For:
A Muted Legacy: While the first cover featured a crown surrounded by cascading water, this crown is a much muted gold.
Darker Omens: You’ll notice something dark dripping from the crown—a nod to the fact that this sequel is a significantly darker journey than the first.
New Symbols: Instead of the swan, we have introduced a winged horse. This rakshasa (demon or monster) and other mythical ones play a pivotal role in the story, and I can’t wait for you to encounter them.
The Blades: In the center, you’ll see two blades crossing. They hold significance to the difficult path Prince Atul and Sugandha must walk together.
This cover perfectly captures the heart of this book and the growing danger lurking in the lands of Kashgar. Let me know in the comments what you think about this cover.
Eighty-three thousand words in, the story finally learned how to stand on its own—and then promptly broke my heart.
This book has been living in my head for a long time, but writing it still surprised me. One of the unexpected joys was returning to familiar ground. A few characters with ties to The Land of Magadha slipped into this story, and weaving those threads back to my very first series felt deeply satisfying. It reminded me that these worlds are still alive—that time has passed, but nothing is ever truly left behind.
At the center of Curse of the River are two protagonists thrown together whether they like it or not. They spend a lot of time irritating each other, challenging each other, and—very reluctantly—learning from one another. Writing their interactions became one of my favorite parts of the book. Their conversations are sharp, sometimes petty, often restrained, and always revealing. They don’t grow through grand declarations, but through friction.
Rakshasas—shape-shifting demons from Hindu mythology—make several appearances, and they are anything but gentle. Their presence pulls the story into darker territory, putting our protagonists in real, mortal danger. They’re clever, cruel, and deeply unsettling, and I loved letting them haunt the edges of the narrative.
But the heart of this book belongs to Sugandha.
As she begins to understand where she comes from—and what that truth costs—the story itself changed shape. Some answers can’t be uncovered without loss, and some truths leave scars. Walking Sugandha toward that realization was both exhilarating and devastating.
And then there’s the ending.
I won’t say much, except this: writing it broke my heart into many pieces. It felt inevitable and earned—and still cruel. The kind of ending that stays with you long after the final line.
As I move into revisions, I’m holding tightly to what made this draft special: the echoes of older worlds, the sharp companionship at its center, the danger hiding behind every transformation, and the emotional price of truth.
More soon. For now, I’m letting the river run where it will.
As I look toward 2026, my writing path feels both clear and a little daunting—in the best possible way. My primary goal is to publish Curse of the River, Book Two of the Prophesied Prince trilogy, and then keep my momentum going straight into writing Book Three, the conclusion of Sugandha and Atul’s journey.
This trilogy has always been a coming-of-age story at its heart—about power that is inherited, power that is chosen, and the cost of both. I’ve been planting seeds for the ending since Book One, even when I didn’t fully understand what they would grow into. Now, as I write deeper into Book Two, I can see the shape of the finale forming on the horizon.
I know this much: the ending will be bittersweet. How much bitter and how much sweet? Even I don’t know yet. My characters certainly don’t. They’re still making choices, still stumbling, still hoping. And I’m following them, page by page, trusting that the story will reveal exactly the ending it demands—whether it breaks my heart a little in the process or not.
What I do know is that I want to give this world, these characters, and you—the readers who’ve walked this road with me—the most honest ending I can write. One that lingers. One that feels earned.
Here’s to a year of rivers that refuse to stay calm, prophecies that don’t behave, and stories that insist on being told.
Anna Bushi 