The Mosquito and the Lion

eight

Hypnotizing, enchanting coffee-colored eyes. They seemed to carry the answer to the universe's oldest questions.

"That obvious?" He scratched the back of his head, taken aback by both her and her question. "I'm from the eastern villages. Haven't been in a city before."

She smiled, a beam so brilliant that Arjun wanted to take a step back. Gods, get it together, Arjun. Try to act like you've seen a woman before.

"Don't tell people where you're from when you first meet them," she scolded, throwing her head back in kind laughter. Her eyes twinkled with mirth, as if she knew a secret that he didn't.

He decided that had earned a chance to participate in some light flirting. It had been ages since he had courted anyone. The courtesans required little convincing, and the noblewomen required even less. All desperate for his crown and fortune.

Not that he had ever complained. If the mark of yuvaraj came with a treasure trove of burdens and responsibilities, it certainly came with perks too.

"And why should I take your advice?" he teased, taking a moment to analyze her. Her face and clothes were clean. Although neither the salwar nor blouse bore the elaborate embroidery of Mauryan wear, they were fine material. A merchant's daughter, he determined. "A young girl like you couldn't have seen much of the streets."

She blushed, a faint red creeping up the side of her neck. Arjun was quite pleased with himself.

"Do strangers in the city tell each other their names?" he asked, inching closer to her. She smelled like the earth — like Yadav — and Arjun wondered if he had found one beautiful thing in Maurya.

"Only fools," she whispered, peeking up at him through her long charcoal-black lashes. The moonlight cast a luminous glow across her round face.

"Arjun." He did not care if it was foolish. He wanted her to know his name.

She scrutinized him, her eyes casting over his features with impunity. Arjun did not mind. He wanted her to trust him. "Alia," she said finally.

Suddenly, a large man came careening down the street, throwing Alia into him. His instincts took over, and he grabbed her by the arms, holding her steady. He meant to scream at the man, to defend her honor, but he had lost the ability to speak. She was mere centimeters away from him now, her own breath tremulous — though whether that was because of him or the man he did not know.

Her arms were soft, smooth against his fingertips. It reminded him of when he was a young boy, just after his Mother's passing. His Baba would take him to the wheat fields, hoping to break his son out of his malaise. Arjun would run in them all day, letting the wheat stalks graze his hands. In the months after his Mother's death, those days in the fields were the only ones that granted him any semblance of peace.

Her own hands dug into the tops of his forearms. Arjun was surprised to find them calloused and worn. They were a riddle he wanted to unravel. Like her.

"Hello, Alia," he murmured.

Embarrassed, she rushed to right herself, releasing her vice-like grip on his arms and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Thank you... Arjun." His name sounded like a melody on her lips, a song to which only she knew the words.

"Let me walk you home," he said boldly, despite knowing Rahul and Vidya were expecting him. Screw them, I deserve a walk with a beautiful woman after the hell they've put me through.

It didn't matter. She shook her head vigorously. "No I, my Father won't like it if I come home with a man." Alia turned red again, realizing what she had said. Her hands flew to her mouth. "I didn't mean it like that. And I'm not presuming your intentions. I just– he's quite traditional, and I—"

Arjun chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. "I understand. Get home safe, Alia."

She nodded bashfully, raising a hand in a plaintive goodbye before walking down the street. He tried to memorize her path. They would be in Purti for a few days. Maybe he could see her again.

But she disappeared around a corner, and Arjun knew these streets were too winding and narrow for him to ever track her down. It was for the best, really. He had more important things on his mind. Arjun had never been distracted before. He didn't plan to cultivate that habit now.

Still, she had been a lovely distraction, and perhaps a welcome omen for their trek into the mountains.

He frowned, glancing down at his satchel. Had he forgotten to close it? Peeking inside to ensure their funds were still with them, Arjun's heart sank.

The purse was missing.

"No, no, no, no, no!" He fished frantically through his satchel, shoving aside the various trinkets in a mad search for the velvet sack of coins. Arjun had demanded to keep the money on his person, not trusting the absent-minded Rahul or sticky-fingered Vidya. He had given them enough to rent the rooms for the night, but that was it.

The purse was missing, and they were broke.

And then his mistake dawned on him. For all his arrogant boasts of how he would never be swindled by Vidya's charms like that foolish border guard, he had committed the same error.

Alia had robbed him.