The Enemy's Daughter

Chapter One

Lalita slipped off the riding gear from her shoulders, handing her a more traditional dress of ghaghra and choli, a long skirt with a fitted bodice, then draped a veil over her head, pulling it down enough to cover her mistress' face. The clothes, embellished with the colorful local embroidery of silken threads, and glass beads, shimmered as she moved. The whole attire was paired with jewelry of beaten gold set with precious stones. It was, after all, not every day that one was asked to present herself to the king at the audience hall which was used to hold meetings or receive important guests.

As she walked sedately, followed by her guard, her heart pounded with foreboding. What had happened that her father needed to see her formally? He was in the habit of visiting her in her chambers, just to ask about her well-being, especially since her mother passed away two springs ago. Since then, her father had taken extra care of her, his only offspring. She was sure it was something momentous for which he had asked her presence at this hour.

The carved doors of the audience hall were opened by the liveried guards as she approached. The sentry announced her presence once she stepped inside. Her father was pacing the hall, his demeanor agitated. He stopped abruptly as his gaze landed on her. He was a man of medium height, stocky and well-built. His countenance somewhat resembled his daughter's, though he sported a handsome pair of mustaches, a sign of his warrior heritage. At this instant, his brow was furrowed, and worry was evident in his eyes. Priyadarshini curtsied, then stood in front of him, her heart thudding with the suspense of it all.

"Take a seat, dear," he waved a hand, showing her towards the cushioned velvet seats, himself sinking down on an ornately brocaded cushion. "What I am going to say to you my child, is very painful for me, but apart from being your father, I am the ruler of Reshamgarh too." Casting a glance at her bent head, he continued, "It is known to you that the last few years have been very difficult for us, what with the constant attacks from Jaigarh. They infiltrate our borders and burn our crops, steal our cattle, or carry away the womenfolk. The greater part of my time goes in repelling the attacks and thus the kingdom suffers." She nodded, knowing full well how her father had been busy in the battlefield, returning wounded more times than she cared to remember. And all because of Him, the Prince of Jaigarh, a cruel, ruthless man, whose very name was enough to put terror in the hearts of his adversaries. She had heard stories of his cruelty from the servants, her heart filling with hatred for such an unkind man who thought nothing of plundering her beloved kingdom time and again.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, her father continued his gaze intent, trying to make her see his point. "We need more fortifications, to build more serais*(inns), dig wells and plant more groves, but I can only do all these welfare works if I am not engaged in defending my kingdom. Recently, with a mind to stop further attacks, I had a meeting with neighboring rulers. Prince Harshvardhan of Jaigarh too attended that council. After a lot of deliberation, it was decided that to put an end to the enmity between the two kingdoms, I would give my daughter in marriage to the Prince of Jaigarh." Having said that, he fell silent, while Priyadarshini sat stunned, her mouth agape, eyes wide in fear.

Wiping her suddenly sweaty palms against her sides, she looked at her father with an entreaty in her eyes. "Father, it can't be true! You know he is our enemy, he hates us intensely. He would surely kill me. The man is a monster," her voice wavered, moisture filling her eyes. Her brain became befuddled with the enormity of her father's announcement. Priyadarshini felt the room tilt, before falling into a swoon.

******

Her eyes opened to find herself in her bedchamber. Her father was kneeling by her bedside, his hand gently pushing back her locks which had escaped from the bun. He stood up when she came to, picking up her hand and squeezing it softly to reassure her. "Believe me, child, had there been another way, I would have taken it, but I am helpless. My men are tired of the battles, the kingdom is in a bad shape, and only you can put this right. I know that it is a lot to ask of you, my child, but I am sure that you will do your duty towards your motherland." The pleading in his eyes was her undoing. She silently nodded her assent, unable to utter a word through her parched throat.

Priyadarshini looked at the retreating back of her father, her heart sinking with dread. She hid her face in her soft down pillow and wept desperately. Between hiccups, her mind raced. The Prince was notorious for his misdeeds. Anyone else would have been better as a match, she mused, even that insolent stranger in the woods who had kissed her, though her heart pounded uncomfortably every time she thought of him. She wished that she could run away, but knew that she did not have that luxury. Being a princess of royal blood, her first duty lay towards her land and people.

"Get up, my lady," Lalita shook her prone figure by the shoulder. Reluctantly, Priyadarshini opened her eyes. It was nearly dark outside. The maid, who was more of a friend to her than a servant, helped her to wash and change for the night before a silver platter was placed before her. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the delicious meal, and she realized that she had skipped lunch altogether. Picking up a bowl of creamy rice pudding, called kheer, she put a spoonful in her mouth, closing her eyes in sheer bliss at the taste of saffron and raisins. The sweet soothed her palate, but the next instant she felt fire course through her at Lalita's words. "My lady, the Prince of Jaigarh is arriving on the morrow to wed you. The king has ordered you to be ready in the morning." She could glimpse the sorrow in Lalita's eyes. She was plainly worried for her mistress. Everyone who had heard the news in the palace had sent a prayer for their princess, who was well-liked by all. To think of the gentle princess married to the cruelest man in the whole of Northern India, had upset the palace staff.

Later that night, Priyadarshini sat at the window seat, gazing longingly at the beauty of the crescent moon. How much longer will she be alive to enjoy the world, she wondered. He was rumored to be hotheaded and free with the sword. If she angered him somehow, she might well end up losing her head. Maybe that would be better than submitting to such a man. She had no mother to tell her what marriage entailed. So, she had asked Lalita, who had grown up in a big household and was quite knowledgeable about such matters. What she had imparted, had made her face flame. Feeling her cheeks burn as she recalled Lalita's words, she trembled in apprehension. Did people really do such shameful things? How was she supposed to endure that at the hands of the prince?

The night passed without Priyadarshini sleeping even a wink. Dawn brought a false calm, as she felt her emotions freeze, accepting whatever destiny had in store for her. She would go through with it, and leave everything else in the hands of Fate. If nothing else, then she would at least have the satisfaction of knowing that her people were at peace. If he kept his word, a voice told her from inside, which was highly doubtful. Deceit was second nature to the people of Jaigarh, or so she had heard.