To Love A Murderer | ✔

09 | Conversations and Anger

The sky was turning to a vivid shade of reds and oranges when he came to her.

His near silent footfalls did not announce his arrival, but rather the nearly imperceptible changes in the environment: the brightening of the air in the room, the wind itself seeming to swirl around in reverence to the pious form of the son of Vasudeva, the leaves and flowers of plants reaching out to him as though pulled by a magnetic field.

Lilavati was no stranger to the changes in the room.

Her attention instantly snapped towards the entrance of her room, even before he set foot inside it. And despite her valiant efforts, tears moistened the corners of her eyes.

The smile he wore on his countenance was an easygoing half-smile—brighter than the radiance of a crescent moon—as he stepped towards her.

She stood up.

"Swami," she whispered.

"Lilavati," he returned, and her name had never sounded sweeter from another's lips.

They stood like that for a moment, looking into each other's eyes—that seemed both an eternity and just a flash—and then his brilliant smile faded into a contained contemplation.

He adjusted his uttariya slightly, his dark complexion standing out against the sun's rays as he came to sit by her. Krishna gestured to her to sit, and she heeded his silent request and settled beside him.

"Tell me about the intruder," he ordered softly.

Lilavati told him everything, briefly elaborating on Iltani's arrival but glossing over the conversation that followed, but she could tell by the gleam in his lotus eyes that he knew the contents of the conversation and seemed happier for it. She described how the both of them had sensed another presence and right up until she had wounded the man.

A question came to the tips of her tongue but before she could ask it, her Lord answered.

"The man is dead. He had lost too much blood by the time he was retrieved."

Lilavati pursed her lips, unsure of whether to feel guilty or glad that she had struck down the man in time to prevent him from harming anyone.

"You need not shoulder the burden of the man's death. He was a spy, looking for information and you prevented him from gaining any such crucial information." He frowned then, adding, "I do not know how he managed to infiltrate the palace so deeply to enter these quarters. I will have to speak to the guards to gather more information."

A silence fell between them, and it was anything but easy or simple.

With a near silent huff, he rose. Lilavati watched him move, entranced by his simple movements but just as quickly realised that he was leaving. And before she realised what she was saying, she blurted out, "Stay."

He paused, turning his head backward to look at her. His peacock feather danced in its diadem. She flushed as he raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her in question.

"That is... if you don't have any work—I mean duties to complete... please stay."

Her voice had turned somewhat pleading by the end, but Lilavati pushed away the embarrassment and tilted her chin up to look at him.

Her husband's features softened.

He returned to sit next to her, and just as she began to wonder what she could possibly talk to him about, he asked her, "Do you know about the revolt?"

His tone indicated that he knew the answer, but she figured it was him extending a branch of supplication for them to begin... anything.

She nodded swiftly. "I do. I found a path amidst the gardens and it surprisingly led me to the city, where I found most of my information from the gossip around me, and I do know that the people revolted against you for... me."