Priyadarshini washed her hands after binding the wound. He was reclining on the pillows, watching with interest as she hummed under her breath while working. She started to rise, but he gripped her arm, pulling her near and clasping her to his chest.
"Careful, my lord," she cautioned, trying to wriggle out of his grip.
"Sit still, Princess. You are as prickly as the prickly pear which grows in the desert."
She threw him a sharp glance. What did he expect? She had still not forgiven him for keeping his visit to Reshamgarh a secret from her. He leaned near, his breath warm on her face. She turned her face away, staring at the mural on the wall.
"Lalita told me how upset you were to see me at death's door. Don't pretend that you are indifferent to me, my wife."
"So, you wish me to care for you, while you do not care a whit for me, your wife? Had you truly felt even a bit of concern and affection, you would have told me about your visit to my father's house, and I am not even referring to what happened after you returned. You were totally brutal," she taunted, her eyes sparking fire, while her breast rose and fell in agitation.
He flashed her an innocent smile, trying to placate her, but she wasn't going to be fooled so easily. His actions were far from innocent. Playing with a ringlet of her dark curls, which lay on her forehead, he spoke softly, "I wanted to tell you, Princess. Hell, I even wished to take you with me, but the circumstances were unfortunate. I feared a confrontation with your father, and had no intention of letting you witness it." Stopping to take a heartfelt breath, he continued, "I am really sorry for what happened later. I can only say that I was deeply disappointed to find you angry and your actions annoyed me. Forgive me, Princess."
She nodded solemnly, though inside she felt a warm glow spread through her. He did sound contrite. Maybe, they could still make something of this ill-fated marriage.
*****
"The feast is in honor of my daughter-in-law. Of course, it will also celebrate the Prince's recovery and the vanquishing of our enemies. I wish you to present the best performance that you can, Neelanjana," King Yashvardhan leaned forward to stress the point.
Neelanjana nodded with a smile. "I understand, your majesty. I promise that you shall have no cause to complain." Inside she was seething with fury. She detested the thought of having to honor her rival through her precious talent. Now that Harshvardhan had recovered, she had waited for him on many nights but he never came to her. It was all that woman's fault. What spell had she cast on him that he had forgotten her, his lover of yore? Would she lose her place in court? She hoped not. She had worked hard for it and would do anything to retain it.
On her way out, her glance fell on her rival. The Prince was with her and they were strolling in the garden, enjoying the cool, light breeze which blew at sunset. The couple seemed to be engrossed in each other, conversing with a smile. Neelanjana took a deep breath and then decided to break up the twosome. Her anklets ringing out on the marble pathway, she ambled out into the garden. So deeply were they engaged that they scarcely knew when she arrived there.
"My lord, such a great blessing to see you hale and hearty," she exclaimed with a forced smile. They stopped in their tracks and turned to glance at her, breathtaking in her gossamer fine robes. Her sinuous figure was clearly visible under the almost transparent fabric, a temptation for any hot-blooded male. Any moment she expected Harshvardhan to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, irrespective of his wife's presence.
"Ah, Neelanjana, my dear, what you see is the result of my wife's hard work and skill. You should thank her for the miracle she has worked," Harshvardhan pulled the Princess into an embrace and placed a kiss on her curly head.
Unwillingly, she cast a look at her rival, folding her hands in greeting. "I have already done that, my lord. You were sleeping at the time when I came to visit you. Of course, no one from the palace informed me of the unfortunate accident." She glared at Priyadarshini, her words carrying a tinge of complaint. "I was totally devastated, my Prince, to know of the misfortune which befell this kingdom," she cried out with feeling, running the short distance to him and putting her arms around him, clinging like a limpet. Tears coursed down her alabaster cheeks, like pearls on a string.
"There...there....dear, don't be upset. I am fine now and will visit you when I find the time," the Prince consoled her, his words somewhat reassuring to her. With a victorious look at her rival, she walked away, planning a passionate night with him.
*****
"Here. Hold the sword like this," Harshvardhan demonstrated the technique, grasping Priyadarshini's hand and swinging it in a wide arc. "This way you would take the enemy by surprise and score over him."
She was a quick learner, having engaged in swordplay earlier, but he was a master, she realized. No wonder his adversaries trembled at his name. They had been practicing for a couple of days now and she could already feel the difference in her confidence. He was also going to teach her to throw the spear, something she had always wished to learn.
An hour later, wiping the sweat from her forehead, she sank down on the grassy bank of the stream in the woods. They had ridden their steeds from the arena to the woods after the practice session was over, and she had had enough. Exhausted, she lay on the mossy ground, enjoying the view of the wispy white clouds floating overhead, while he leaned against a gnarled tree trunk and chewed at a blade of grass.
"What are you thinking?" he remarked after an interval had elapsed without any words having been exchanged between them.
She gazed into his mesmerizing eyes. "I was wondering about our first meeting."
"In your father's grand hall? You seemed so shy and docile when you are anything but that," he laughed, his face animated at the memory.
She shook her head vehemently. "No....no....I am referring to our meeting in the woods....when you....you...." she was too self-conscious to utter the words.
"When I kissed you? It was a memorable kiss, Princess."
"Why did you do it?" she was perplexed.
He leaned forward to push aside the lock which had fallen on her face, his fingers lingering on her satiny skin. "There was no way I was going to marry you without seeing you first. What if you had been ugly with buck teeth?" he said, his tone humorous.
"Huh," she snorted in contempt, "As if you married me for my beauty! It was a purely political alliance. You would have had to honor the treaty even if I resembled a horse."
He guffawed in mirth, holding his sides. "Well, then it is clear that I struck gold, for you are neither. You are beautiful, Princess. Very beautiful."
She colored at that, her heart jumping with joy at the prospect that she was comely in his eyes. Why then did he favor Neelanjana over his wife, the thought crept stealthily into her mind, spoiling her mood.
*****
The audience hall was decorated to the rafters with flowers. Thousands of lamps lighted the room with a starry glow. The royal couple sat on their gilded thrones carved with delicate workmanship and embedded with precious stones. Priyadarshini sat nearby with the prince by her side, dressed as befitting her exalted station. The emerald green of her sheer veil covered her face partly while the gold embroidered skirt flared around her. Emeralds and diamonds glittered on her body, and her neck and arms were also adorned with heavy gold jewelry. She could feel her husband's glance dart to her face time and again, admiring the vision she presented in her finery.
The servant, dapper in his shining livery, called out the arrival of the dancers. A hushed silence fell on the crowded hall, filled with ministers and neighboring rulers. The troupe entered, led by the chief courtesan, the woman herself ethereal in her colorful attire. Priyadarshini drew in a sharp breath as Neelanjana knelt in front of the throne, then rose and made her way toward the Prince. After paying her respects and with a coquettish glance at her lover, she announced the performance she had prepared. The musical started with the dancers swaying in perfect rhythm, unfolding the story of Krishna's divine love for his beloved.
The audience sat spellbound through the performance, except Priyadarshini who could see what the other woman was hinting at. Were the others blind or was she mistaken? Why did it seem to her that the courtesan was hinting at her relationship with the Prince with every look and action? In between the moves, she would cast a sly glance at her, as if challenging her to deny the place, she, Neelanjana held in her husband's life. Priyadarshini gave a mental shrug. What did it matter to her that the woman displayed shamelessly her love for him? Why did it hurt so much when she did not love him herself?
The show drew to an end and the dancers departed one by one, bowing their heads before leaving, till only Neelanjana was left on the stage. Making her way to the forefront, she gave a bow with a flourish, beaming with pride as the hall reverberated with the sound of applause. She waited for the din to die down, then took a deep breath before speaking in her singsong voice. Addressing the gathering, she continued, with a slight taunting smile on her luscious lips, "We have gathered here to honor Princess Priyadarshini, a woman of great merit. She worked her magic on the Prince to bring him back to life, though many would have blamed her for bringing this misfortune on Jaigarh in the first place. Being from the enemy kingdom, it is natural to think that she would have wished ill luck on us, but let me assure you, I have seen her taking care of our Prince with my own eyes." The woman waited for a moment, her eyes gleaming with mischief, then pointed at her with great flair. "She even tried to prevent me from sitting by the lord's side there. So sincere was she in her duties as a nurse, that I doubted whether she had ever been a princess."
The hall resounded with laughter while some present clucked their tongues as if in regret. It was clear to Priyadarshini that she had been made to appear not only a laughing stock but also an evil witch who brought the calamity to the kingdom. Tears swam in her eyes as she hoped that someone would rise to her defense. Who would do that?