Rajkumari Isha’s necklace extended to her navel, the lotus pendant laying on the folds of her skirts. The golden beads glittered against the deep blue silk of her sari. The borders were golden with tiny peonies and jasmines picked out in shimmering silk threads. The other princesses gathered round her with admiring eyes as she fingered and rolled the beads between long fingers, hanging on her every word. Her father had gotten them for her off a trader from Persia. Ajiona garnered one thing from the display : the coffers of Madulalpuram ran deep.
The Rajkumari’s attire was flamboyant for their simple picnic by the river side. They sat on plump carpets and cushions spread beneath the broad foliage of a grove of gulmohar trees; listening to the burbling of the slow moving river, eating the yogurts, sweetmeats and four different types of tea provided to them for their outing. Their guards were far away enough as humanly possible to give them the illusion of privacy and still be able to come to their aid when required. A few people going about their everyday lives had passed by and dipped their heads in greeting before disappearing down the bend. Ajiona had meant for the outing to be a simple one of the princesses enjoying a few moments of silence away from the hustle and bustle of the palace as the birthday feast was drawing near. They were to play Parcheesi; the veenas; read or write poems and test their skills. That was until Isha unveiled her necklace and the others went to her with oohs and aahs. Which was all well and good, Ajiona wasn’t in the right mind to play host. She was distracted.
Ajiona quietly drank her tea, soothed by the perfume and the lingering thoughts of the night before.A small smile curved her lips and there was a constant pink flush on her face as she imagined Bhalla’s hands on her shoulders and then his arms around her and how his mouth had felt on hers. He’d tasted of harsh liqueur and his kiss had been so deep that she’d felt drunk as well. Ajiona bit on her lower lip, she could almost feel the pressure on his mouth on hers, almost taste the alcohol. She could almost feel his calloused hands on her arms, sliding up and down, igniting twin lines of fiery heat that engulfed her and she had to stop before she got incinerated.
The entire thing felt like a dream she conjured up. It was simply surreal. One did not expect the great Bhalladeva to scale the walls of her balcony, drunk and hot with desire for her. She hadn’t expected what he’d said to her and what had followed. The kiss felt like he was trying to drink her in, like she was a drug. If not for the linger scent of sandalwood, alcohol and masculine scent left behind on her sheets, she would have been convinced everything was a creation of an overactive mind that needed an outlet. It would be completely scandalous if anyone found out. She smothered the urge to giggle into her cup. Her body vibrated with a restless energy. She was bursting with the need to gossip about the previous night, all the while giggling and reminiscing. The only ones she could tell were Mekhala and Pragya, although the latter wouldn’t approve of the entire thing. She would think it was scandalous and be agitated that someone would overhear and spread the rumor.
Ajiona thought it was lucky that no one saw Bhalla come and leave her quarters, and through such unconventional means. Although she couldn’t be completely sure. Mekhala did come in not long after Bhalla was done and whether or not she saw the prince, her expression gave no indication. Ajiona frowned as she reviewed that thought. There had been something about Mekhala’s expression that put her on edge and she thought something was amiss. Before she could inquire as to what the problem was, Pragya had entered to remind her of her duties today.
‘... and then I told him I would have either his tongue or his hands. Such rudeness against the royal family should not be tolerated …’ Isha paused in her charming anecdote and briefly glanced in Ajiona’s direction.
Ajiona caught the look and thought her daydreaming must have been plain for all to see. She carefully arranged her face into an enraptured mask. Isha smiled, showing sharp canines. It didn’t fool her.
‘What do you think, Ajiona-Devi?’
What? Ajiona quickly sifted through the conversations and the snippets that had burrowed into her head. ‘If he should choose his hands or his tongue?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
Ajiona raised her cup to her lips and took a sip to buy herself time. There was a trap in the question, she was sure of it. If she gave an unacceptable answer, she would be mocked and humiliated which was precisely what Isha wanted. Flaunting her wealth and status and discussing herself and all the memories she shared with the princes weren’t enough, now she wanted to ridicule Ajiona.
‘I don’t see why he has to choose,’ Ajiona said carefully. ‘Surely a fine will do.’
Someone gasped, Unnika, indignant by the response as though she was hurt by the reply.
Isha smiled kindly. ‘You do not understand royal and noble life, Ajiona-Devi.’ Ajiona tried not to grit her teeth at the insult. ‘We cannot let such things go by.’
‘Of course, rajkumari. But forgive me, I do not see how a mere song hurts the royal family. It didn’t grow teeth and spears and tried to overthrow the monarchy.’
‘Ajiona-devi -’
Ajiona went on. ‘Maybe I am ignorant, but it seems to me that the punishment was excessive for one man. Unless your goal, rajkumari is to be feared by the people, then that is an excellent tactic.’
Silence befell the assembly.
Ajiona sipped her tea again, luxuriating in the faint taste of mint and persimmon. It was such a nice tea, she should ask for the recipe and maybe brew it for Bhalla. Her mind began to wander off, she snagged it back and smiled politely at Isha. ‘Did he choose, rajkumari?’ she asked demurely.
Isha bared her teeth. ‘Of course, he chose his hands.’
Ajiona tried not to hurl the contents of her cup into her face. It would be a waste of good tea and there was that delicate political intrigue hovering out of sight. ‘Good choice,’ she said and refilled her cup. ‘What did you do to the audience then?’ she asked.
Isha blinked. ‘The audience?’
‘He was a musician, correct? Surely he wasn’t singing to himself in the privacy of his home when you stumbled upon him. It must have been in the square, with people listening. They bore witness to that insult on the royal family and would most likely disperse to their homes to repeat the tale, complain. They must have been tracked down and punished with accordance to the laws of Madulalpuram in regards to the puncture of the royal pride. Otherwise it would be a gross injustice to punish one for the sins of many. They have to have the option of hands or tongue, although that might be a problem for the growth of the economy.’
A shocked silence claimed the gathering. Dark spots of color bloomed on Isha’s cheekbones and her lips were pinched tight, her eyes a point of darkness.
Ajiona dipped her head. ‘I meant no offense, rajkumari. As you said, I am neither nobility nor royalty.’ Even if she was more or less on equal standing with them, still the point stood that she was a guest of the great Sivagami, being trained to fulfil an unspecified role, and they were princesses, born and bred in power. They couldn’t attack her lest they bring the wrath of Sivagami on their heads, but they could orchestrate little accidents that couldn’t be traced back to them.
Isha’s smile would be disarming in another place, right now she had the hungry look of a lion that has been denied its prey. ‘Of course not, Ajiona-devi. We were simply having a discussion and I’m thankful for your thoughts. They were enlightening.’
Ajiona saw in Isha’s eyes a promise of terrible things to come and she was both irritated and bored by it. The gathering chafed at her as though she’d put on a vest made of goat hair. The perfumes; the simpering attitudes; the cloying smile; the veiled barbs : she disliked them all - except the tea of course. She would give up her hands and tongue to be by the pool with Rudra and the berries he brought her. She would give up her left leg for Bhalladeva to be there. She wondered if he would pretend that nothing happened or if he would be a bundle of nerves and energy like her, words falling over.
‘Ajiona devi,’ someone was calling. Aanya.
Ajiona looked up from the depths of her cup, away from the blissful musings of herself and Bhalla wrapped up in each other. Her face was hot and she hoped the blush wasn’t that apparent.
Isha smiled a silken smile. ‘I hope I am not interrupting your thoughts.’
‘Not at all. I felt a bit faint, that’s all.’
Aanya’s eyes were large with concern. ‘You do look a bit pale, Ajiona-devi. Perhaps we should retire. The feast is in a few days and you may need your rest.’
Yes. Yes. Ajiona lied through her teeth, ‘No, Rajkumari. I wouldn’t want to cut short the enjoyment. Besides, I feel completely relaxed here.’
Aanya looked like she wanted to say something else but thought better of it.
Ajiona turned to Tannaya. ‘Will you play for us, Rajkumari? I’ve heard a lot about your talent and skill from Maharani Sahja. You will do us a great honor.’
Tannaya glanced at Isha as though looking for permission before lifting a veena to her lap and beginning to play a familiar melody - the one Takshika had her begin with -. The song allowed her to drift off into her own thoughts, to a place where she was at ease. The garden and the pond came to mind almost instantly, then she saw her room, not her chambers in the palace but her room. The one in her house with her mother. As quickly as it came it disappeared, leaving behind a hollow her chest. Ajiona desperately chased it, trying to drag it back. She tried to conjure up the faces of her mom, of Juliana, of her uncle. They all slipped away after a second, replaced by the garden pond and Bhalla’s probing eyes. Her heart clutched as she panicked, shutting her eyes and digging deeper. The images didn’t come and if they did, they slipped away before they could register. Her heart ached and a gulf yawned in her stomach.
It took a while before Ajiona registered Tannaya had stopped playing. She opened her eyes and felt the wetness clinging to her lashes and touched her finger to her cheek. They were wet. She pondered it, puzzled.
‘Devi?’ Unnika.
She had to say something. Quickly. ‘That was masterful, rajkumari Tannaya. It was moving.’ Her tutors would be impressed at how she was lying through her teeth. Tannaya wasn’t a bad player but she wasn’t as great as her mother touted her to be. She played her melody safe without taking a risk and it was barely stirring.
‘You honor me, Ajiona-devi,’ Tannaya said. ‘Would you like to play something?’
‘I can’t, Rajkumari. I am new to this instrument and wouldn’t want to offend your senses with my amateurish skills.’
‘But I insist,’ Tannaya pressed. There was a barely constrained eagerness in her face, a dark glee ready to gloat. Ajiona entertained herself with a vision of braining her with the instrument but her heart wasn’t in it. She wanted to go back to her chambers, curl up and cry. Or maybe go to Bhalla. She wouldn’t be able to explain everything to him but he would comfort her in his own gruff manner.
Ajiona was beginning to nod when a guard approached. She sidled close to Isha, bent and whispered into the Rajkumari’s ear. An array of emotions swept over her face : from mild annoyance to puzzlement, confusion, alarm and then settling into a neutral mask. She nodded and the guard drew back. Ajiona wondered what that was all about.
Isha addressed them all. ‘Forgive me, I must deprive you of my presence.’
Ajiona wanted to whoop in joy but etiquette demanded different of her. ‘Is anything the matter?’ There, she could sound concerned about someone she wanted to push off a cliff.
‘Nothing to worry you about, Ajiona-devi. It’s a simple matter.’ Isha rose elegantly and inclined her head. Ajiona rose as well.
It didn’t take long after Isha departed for the gathering to fall apart. They first seethed and stirred restlessly, pretending to be enraptured in parcheesi and gossip before giving various excuses about fictitious aches and other engagements. Ajiona didn’t begrudge them even if it was insulting. She wanted to escape as well.
She announced the end of the picnic so the princesses could go cool themselves and they all piled into the available palkis.
‘Perhaps next time we can go riding,’ Aanya said with a hopeful smile.
Ajiona stared for a moment, shocked. ‘Of course, Rajkumari.’
Aanya ducked into the palki and the princesses were borne away. Ajiona waited until she was inside her own palki before an exhausted sigh escaped her and the first wobble of impeding tears. She killed it. Not now. In the privacy of her room. An ache built between her eyes and her head felt heavy. She didn’t want to cry alone, she wanted to cry with someone. Pragya and Mekhala would understand her pains but it wasn’t them she wanted comfort from.
Ajiona fell into an unease and fitful doze all the way back. She dreamed of women weeping in a dark place she knew was her home, her real home and the pang of homesickness and heartache almost drew her under. When she finally woke, they were in the palace heading for her quarters. A wild thought occurred to her and she pushed open the window and poked her head out.
‘Take me to Yuvaraju Bhalladeva.’
Her guard blinked at the unprecedented request, nonetheless she nodded. Ajiona sank back on the cushions, her heart beating a mile a minute. Nerves churned in her guts. She’d never been to his place before and whether or not she was allowed to pay him a visit without an escort was a murky area. She fought the urge to bolt when she came out of the palki. She was exhausted, sweaty and nervous. Perhaps another time. Ajiona buried the thought of scurrying back into the palanquin. What was the worst that could happen?
*
She was sulking. Ajiona knew but didn’t care. She plucked off leaves and tossed them into the water. She’d walked up to his chambers, her heart in her throat only to be told he wasn’t around. He’d gone out with Bahu. For a brief moment, Ajiona thought he’d gone out drinking but he was with Bahu which meant something sensible and important. Still, she couldn’t help how her heart had caved in disappointment. She’d debated leaving a message and at the end decided not to. She returned to her chambers to wash off the sweat and instead of spending a while napping before her lectures, she donned on a freer attire and fled to the pond, hoping Bhalla had arrived. He hadn’t. So, she’d flopped on the bench, pouting her disappointment.
Even Rudra was nowhere to be seen and that monkey never left the pond. Ajiona sighed and closed her eyes, imagining Bhalla was here. What would he say to her? He’d probably just listen and then put his hands on her face, gently cupping them. The wind brushed her face and it felt as warm as his hands. She shuddered. The phantom touch lingered.
It would be so nice if he was here. But he wasn’t.
‘Ajiona-devi,’ a masculine voice said.
Ajiona jumped half a foot off the bench. She opened her eyes and glared wildly. Lavan stood before her. How did he get here? Why hadn’t she heard him approach?
Lavan was concerned. ‘Did I startle you?’
Yes! Her heart was pounding against her ribcage. ‘Not at all.’ What are you doing here? She became acutely aware that they were alone in the garden, no escort or guard with them. It was something she never bothered about with Bhalla but right now, with Lavan, she thought it was completely inappropriate.
‘I think I did.’
‘Maybe just a little.’
Lavan’s face collapsed into a contrite expression. ‘A thousand pardons, devi. I was merely taking a stroll and I happened to see you sitting. I thought to come sit with you and maybe share in your peace.’
Bullshit. Ajiona eyed him warily. He seemed earnest enough and his eyes were friendly. Yet, she sensed something about him. She couldn’t quite pin it down. She didn’t buy his statement. Her eyes traveled down to his hand. He was clutching on a book.
Lavan’s eyes followed hers to the book. ‘It’s a collection of poems by someone named Arjuni. Have you read it, devi?’
Ajiona shook her head. ‘No.’
‘It is most interesting. …for you have stolen the stars of the heavens and tucked them in your eyes …’
Ajiona blinked and felt the urge to laugh at the quote. ‘That sounds … beautiful.’ She coughed.
‘It is utterly appalling,’ Lavan admitted, his eyes laughing.
A snort escaped her. ‘You said it is most interesting.’
‘For all the wrong reasons.’
Ajiona smiled.
‘May I sit?’ he asked.
‘It depends. Are you going to quote some more interesting poems?’
‘Can I sit if I say yes?’
It wouldn't hurt. Besides, she was supposed to be gathering information.
She said : ‘Yes.’
Lavan sat.