Streets lined with a plethora of stalls and walls colored in various hues, paintings were what greeted my eyes as soon as we entered Bhagwatprasth, the capital of Shakya Pradesh. In the abundance of merriment to greet their princess consort, the people on the streets presented us with folk dance and music that was foreign to me.
The language they spoke, was similar to that spoken in Medinikhand but the dialect was a bit different from that of my homeland; it was much more velvety and unlike Medinikhand's dialect, it was not much sonorous.
As our procession moved deeper into the city, the beauty of the place seemed to increase exponentially due to the parks and greenery of the place.
Being a resident of Madhavpuri, I was used to the vast ocean and sandy soil that tickled my feet to provide relaxation but Bhagwatprasth was almost opposite to that of my old residence. Cocooned in the embrace of mountains, the city of Bhagwatprasth was in high altitudes. Instead of being moist and warm, the zephyrs of this place were dry and cold, making me shiver with a mere caress of it.
Thankfully, Chanchala did enough packing and a simple cough was enough for her to bring me a shawl to warm my shivering self. My lips felt chapped under the dry climate and despite applying oil several times, the effect didn't seem to restore the prior condition of my lips or as the matter of fact, the entire skin.
Finally, passing through the crowd, we reached the palace. Guarded by a towering wooden door, the entire palace was gilded with precious stones and gold that added grandeur to the walls of the palace contrived by finally cut red sandstones. Just one glance of the entire structure was enough to spark fear in the eyes of spectators, for it was unsure whether the redness present on the wall was due to the sandstones or the blood of the past that reeked from the walls.
In the shelter of these walls, I was able to witness women standing on the balconies, watching our procession go by while their lips articulated several giggles and spurned some stories or whispers that added to their joviality.
Getting down from my palanquin, I stepped beside Nyrvig. We both shared a small smile- something that I would like to claim as half deceit- and then moved up the stairs toward a group of people standing near the gates. At the front of the group, stood a lady around the age of my mother. Dressed in a green saree, she was covered by fine jewels. Her smile felt genuine and enough to give a sense of warmth inside my mind.
"Welcome Vijetri! Our family is blessed to have the presence of such beauty as our daughter-in-law. No wonder Nyrvig could not control his urge to present a proposal to you."
I could feel my cheeks heating up and I glanced toward Nyrvig to read his expression. Surprisingly, it was blank and I could outline a sense of hostility on his face. As if feeling my gaze, he turned towards me and perhaps saw the confusion in my eyes.
"Vijetri, I introduce you to the queen of Sakhya Pradesh and my stepmother, Durgamati." His voice was dripping with a concoction of anger and ridicule while introducing which was a clear signal for me of the cold relationship between them. The tone was not something Durgamati was oblivious about, yet, she kept the arc on her lips while glancing at me. The situation was awkward but neither side was ready to acknowledge it and back down.
Despite the tension of the place, with much effort, I plastered a smile on my visage and bent down to touch her feet. Instead of blessing me, she engulfed me in a hug, which was odd as it was as warm as my mother's. It was as if a second mother has embraced me and a sense of safety inundated me. The warmth made me uncomfortable and slightly like a hoax; a hoax concealing mirth that I was yet to unfurl.
"Sada saubhagyawati bhava! May all the happiness follow you!" She blessed me with a sweet and sincere voice but the quick fondness was quite unsettling. I feigned a smile and backed away from her.
I turned towards Nyrvig and found him conversing with an old man, a few years older than my father. His head was adorned by the royal crown and his pale yet strict face made me think of him as Nyrvig's father, Maharaj Surendra. My suspicions were confirmed when Nyrvig introduced me to him.
"Vijetri, I introduce you to my father, the king of Sakhya Pradesh, and your father-in-law, Maharaj Surendra."
His voice carried a sense of tension and I could feel the eyes of his father, analyzing my every movement. I turned to face his father, eyes downcast though my posture speaking of my confidence and royalty.
I took his blessings and looked secretly towards him to gauge his expression. His face was stoic and his wrinkle donned eyes spoke nothing but blankness in them. Though old, his posture spoke of the immense power he held within him. I averted my eyes from him and glanced at Nyrvig, seeing him stressed for the first time.
"Saubhagyawati bhava!" His voice was monotonously showing his disinterest in me. He moved from there, Nyrvig following behind, leaving me confused at my spot.
I nervously glanced here and there, almost feeling left out in the crowd when a hand nudged me, it was Yashodhara. Smiling at me, she nudged me forward as if wordlessly asking me to follow them.
Following her instructions, I started following Nyrvig and his father who took me to a vast hall that was oddly similar to a court. Sitting at the highest seat, which looked like a throne- Nyrvig's father signaled the dismissal of all the guards and maids.
"Welcome princess Vijetri to our kingdom of Shakya Pradesh." He started, making my lips twitch in displeasure- he was not considering me as a family.
"I am grateful of Maharaj to welcome me into my new abode." I retorted. For long, he stared at me with blank eyes, his wrinkles twitched for a moment before he burst into laughter.
"Since you have claimed this as your abode, I present you with the account book of the palace. I hope the princess won't find it bothersome." His low velvety voice knitted a trap for me while my mind scoffed at his low trick.
Trying to test me with the account book was something not unexpected but to manage the entire palace was a big deal. He was trying to seek drawbacks in me which was unacceptable to me. A newlywed princess would hardly be able to manage all this but little did Maharaj Surendra know of my last life. Managing the palace was like a piece of cake for me for I have practiced this the entire time in my last life.
Nyrvig tried to protest but it was silenced as soon as I took the accounts book. The challenge was accepted.
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Sada Saubhagyawati bhava!- A blessing granted by ancient Indians to a bride. It means "May good fortune follow you forever!"
Maharaja- King
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आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Resurgence of Kohl
ऐतिहासिक साहित्य"This..." His lips parted but no words followed and his grip on my scorched hand loosened. "...Is a reminder that I have to burn several times more to rise again." A smile articulated on my lips and I intervened my fingers to his. ❁┈┈┈❅ ⋞〈 ✿ 〉⋟ ❅┈┈┈...
