Hi everyone!
Another nice long chapter for you guys!! Once again, we are reaching the end of part three and part four will be the last one! So enjoy!
As always, let me know what you think by commenting and don't forget to vote!
Thank you!
-Luckycharms <3
P.S. Stay safe everyone!!! We're dealing with a strange situation and I hope all of you are okay!
---
Seetha did not wake for two weeks and for that reason, my days and nights were spent with little sleep. Aside from caring for Mayalahi and Aathavan, the constant worrying didn't help bring sleep either.
Lady Suhanya and my father suggested to let the palace nurses care for Mayalahi, but I refused. Aside from getting a nurse to feed her while Seetha was ill, I wanted Mayalahi to be close to her family, as Aathavan was.
Which meant I had to do most of the work.
I had pushed aside most of my responsibilities for those few weeks, letting Aarun take over in my absence. Though it was not ideal, it needed to be done. Conveniently, my training with Aathavan back at the villages helped me in caring for Mayalahi, but on the ninth day, Seetha's mother and father arrived. They had gotten the news that the birth proved a challenge and came as fast as they could, not resting once on that trip.
Despite their obvious exhaustion, anyone could imagine how relieved I was to see them.
With their arrival, I was able to, reluctantly, return to most of my duties. If Aayu was here, I could have trusted him to cover for me... but he wasn't, and instead I only had Aarun, who I could not trust.
So on day ten of Mayalahi's life and day ten of Seetha's sleep, I returned to working.
Seetha had lost an incredible amount of weight and looked almost like a different person. It was expected though. Though her mother or her father sat by her side nearly the whole day, dropping droplets of sugared water mixed with medicines into her mouth, it was nowhere enough to keep her well.
Seetha's parents were terribly frightened. I could tell from their eyes, though they feigned confidence when they spoke to me. Her father, however, though frightened, did seem certain that Seetha was strong enough to return to us. Of course, I couldn't blame them for being frightened. They were her parents.
Even I was frightened.
I had never been so frightened.
I did everything I could for her... I wrote to all the greatest doctors in our lands... I had all the charms and ornaments made and placed near her... I sent word to all the temples to perform prayers for her.
Yet she still slept.
Aathavan did not handle her sleep well. He needed her love and two weeks without it was too much for him, and though I loved him, I knew I could not match her. And though her parents kept him entertained as much as they could, he still wanted his mother, going as far as refusing to sleep in his crib. Instead, he would curl up into a ball on the bed next to her, resting his head on her arm.
Mayalahi, despite all the commotion, proved to be strong. She was born a little too small, according to Lady Suhanya, but within a few days, she grew into herself and was healthy.
She was... much more challenging than Aathavan had been. She cried more, fussed more, slept less, and made bigger messes. I wondered if maybe this all had to do with her not having Seetha's warmth so early on. But then again, it could just be that she was a baby... and not all babies were the same, it seemed.
When the fifteenth day hit, that was when I was beginning to feel a little hopeless.
I did not leave my room that day. I could not even bear to see my children.
I was relieved that Lady Suhanya took Maya, and Seetha's mother took Aathu, and while alone, I sat in a chair at the side of the bed, holding her hand, pressing her fingers against my lips, my elbows on the bed. Just... sitting.
Sometimes I would talk to her... Lady Suhanya had said that talking to her may help. She may hear us, and try to push through in order to respond to us. So I did it, though it did not seem to be working.
Hours passed of me just looking at her face, noting how much her fingers felt so boney, and wondering if all of this was my fault.
Lady Suhanya said that sometimes this just happens. Sometimes childbirth is not as smooth as it should be. There are not always specific causes for it and this case was just like all of those. She told me to be grateful... that some women don't make it in cases like this. Usually the pain and the blood loss is too much and they pass away. Sometimes the baby dies too.
Seetha was strong.
Her body was fighting.
But I still could not stop thinking that maybe this was my fault.
Maybe if I had not entertained her desire to work so hard, she could have rested more. Maybe if I had forced her to relax, everything would have been better. Maybe I should have made her think I didn't trust her.
Maybe that would have prevented all of this.
My thoughts were soon interrupted though, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. The feeling startled me, but when I turned my head I saw that it was Seetha's father. I let out a breath, noticing that he was holding the sleeping Maya in his other arm, making me assume that Lady Suhanya and brought her to him. "I apologize for startling you," he said. "I thought I should interrupt you since there is a guard waiting outside for you."
I looked back at Seetha. "What does he want?"
"He mentioned that your mother and father need to speak with you."
Nothing good usually came out of that, so I frowned.
My father-in-law stood there for a moment before taking a step forward and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I must admit," he said. "This may sound quite inappropriate, but it makes me a little happy to see you like this."
I looked at him.
"To see how much pain you are in because of my daughter... I have never been so sure of your love for her."
I let out a soft laugh.
He put a hand on his daughter's leg, squeezing it gently and then looking at her face. After a moment, he looked at me. "How do you feel, son?"
I hesitated. "How do I feel?"
"It may help to just say it."
I frowned. "I feel like I have consistently failed her," I said, honestly.
Her father kept his eyes on me, nodding slowly. "And why do you feel that this is your fault?"
"Because I am supposed to protect her. I am supposed to keep her happy."
He considered that, before looking at his daughter. "Have you ever spoken to her about this?"
"I have," I said. "She slapped me."
He smiled. "Sounds about right."
I smiled too, not too surprised that the idea of his daughter slapping her husband didn't bother him.
"If you would like my opinion," he started, turning to look at me, my daughter still in his arms. "I think you two focus too much on your differences... the fact that you are royal and she is not. The fact that you were raised in this massive palace, and she was raised in a little farm. The fact that your mother and father are the king and queen of Chandraba, whereas her mother and father are simple peasants, the fact that she is a woman and you are a man... just to name a few. I don't blame you for focusing on that, of course... If Seetha is honest in her letters, which I ask her to be, then it seems like everyone around you loves to bring that up as much as possible, don't they?"
I nodded.
They sure did.
He smiled. "I know you love her, and I know she loves you, but this mentality... this fear of the differences... it is not helping. You feel like you cannot keep her happy because you cannot completely understand her. You feel like she is so different from you and you feel like you need to put so much extra effort in to help her understand or to help her assimilate. Or on the other hand, you feel like you need to make everyone else understand her... to accept her differences."
I nodded.
He was right.
Every decision I made in relation to her... in relation to trying to keep her happy... I made because I felt she was different. She needed to be treated differently or other people needed to act differently or things need to change in order for me to be able to keep her happy.
"Maybe... it would be a lot easier if, for once, you focused on your similarities?" He continued. "The obvious similarity is that you both enjoy each other's presence. You both are intelligent... and you both love doing things your own way."
I raised a brow.
Yes, she did.
I always knew she did.
But I never compared that to my own need to do the same thing.
"When you look at it that way, does it not seem so much simpler to imagine how to keep her happy?" He said. "Simply put, you have to keep yourself happy. Keep yourself happy and then let her do the things that you do which keep you happy."
I let out a breath, dropping my head down.
Seetha's father then surprised me by putting a hand on my head. He messed my hair as if I were a young boy and when I looked at him, he was smiling. "You like to make things complicated for yourself, don't you?"
I chuckled.
"I suppose it's expected... things have been rather complicated all your life, haven't they?" He asked. He continued without waiting for a response, probably not needing an answer. "Maybe that's why Seetha is so good for you. She is so uncomplicated. She makes sense. She always has. Everything she does is out of love for something or someone. There are no politics, no rules, no biases, no desire to impress... She is simple, in the best way possible."
I nodded.
"She has always been an independent person, but remember she absorbs the emotions and the feelings and the pains and the hurting of the people she loves. I see that your son is taking after her in that respect... he does this too, I'm sure you noticed?"
Yes. He did.
"So. if you want my opinion, there is one way to keep her happy. You need to be happy. Remember the things that you two have in common and realize that that is all the both of you need to reflect on and work on to stay happy."
I nodded. "But she has to wake up first," I said, rather bleakly, looking at her face, the colour drained, her cheeks hollow.
"Son," her father started. "You took her from a village and planned to make her your Queen... I rather expected you to have more faith in her strength."
When I looked back at him, he was smiling warmly.
"Seetha has always been my strongest. Stronger than even my boys. When everyone is exhausted from their full day of work, she has always been the one to finish up for everyone, even when she herself was exhausted from her own full day of work. She pushes through, especially when she needs to for those she loves. Why do you think she started telling the stories in the square where you met her? We had a bad harvest and our big family was struggling that year. She did it to help us, so get a few donations so the little children would have a few extra pieces of food on their plates. She would work the whole day, go to the square, tell her stories, and come home exhausted. But she always came home with something... a few extra eggs, some fruits, maybe some nuts... even a silver coin that very first time you spoke to her."
He let out a short laugh, remembering that first moment and the shock on her face. It was the first time I realized how lovely her eyes were.
She mentioned, after we were married, that that coin had saved them that season. A single silver coin was enough to buy a season's worth of rice... if not more.
"It was thanks to her extra effort that the children of our home were never hungry," he said. "She will push through. Always. I have faith in her. You must too."
I took a deep breath and let it out.
I felt better... at least a little.
And I felt more eager for her to wake up... so I could make her happy... the right way.
"Now, son, your mother and father are waiting for you. I will take over watching her for now. Take a walk, speak to your parents, and come back after you've stretched your legs out a little."
I've always liked Seetha's father... though I didn't think I ever liked him more than I did now. He was calm, admirable and loving. Though being strong and looking fierce for his age, his back straight and his shoulders tall, he found no issues with caring for a little baby girl while praising his daughter, going as far as calling her stronger than his male heirs.
You rarely ever saw that here.
I wished... maybe I could be more like him. Stronger... calmer.
I looked at Mayalahi, who was wiggling in her grandfather's arms.
I suppose I was more like him now... more like him than my own father... at least in the sense that I now had a daughter. My father had no girls. Though he secretly wished it, he was given five strong boys. He would say that loving daughters were a blessing... in the warrior clan, sons brought, through battle, prosperity and death, but daughter's, through marriage, brought peace and wealth.
Though I would imagine that Seetha's father would disagree. That was not what made daughters special.
"If you had lived your whole life without a daughter, what do you think would have come of you?"
My father-in-law seemed unsurprised by my question. "We live in a world ruled by men," he said. "Men who often ignore the voices of their mothers and sisters and wives and daughters. It is unfortunate though... because, to answer your question, daughters change you. They make you better."
I looked at my own daughter.
"They challenge you. Your mind is morphed in a way where, when you truly care, your focus centers around protecting her. And not just protecting her from other people, but protecting her from the harsh existence we thrive in. You want her to survive... to be better. So you protect her, and through that, you become stronger... and even wiser. Wiser because... what do we grown men know about little girls? It's like learning about a whole new animal all together."
I chuckled. He was right about that. I knew nothing of little girls.
"So, to answer your question, Aaryan... my daughters, Seetha, in particular, made me understand what it is to truly be a man. She made me understand who I was meant to me... because I do not believe you are a true man until you have loved and raised a daughter. Without my girls, I would be... nothing."
Seetha always said that though she and her mother were always close, and though her mother taught her so much, she would always attribute her strength and her wisdom to her father. Her father was the reason why she was who she was. Without him, she could have just been like any other girl, married off at twelve or thirteen for riches, having her future set and planned for her before she was ever born.
She would never have met me.
I wondered if I could do the same for my own daughter. If I could raise her to be like Seetha... if I could raise her to one day make me feel the way her grandfather feels.
Just thinking about it... it seemed like a greater challenge than I had ever faced.
War is so... straight forward. It was strategic, outcomes often predictable so long as you had all the right information that all the right people could give you.
Maya here did not have all the right people to give me all the right information about her. In fact, no one knew this information except herself, and obviously she was in no position to share that with me. Not now, maybe not ever.
Seetha's father began to chuckle. "If it helps, child," he started, as he leaned forward and handed me Maya. "All it takes, at the beginning... at this point... is love."
She seemed to settle comfortably in my arms and I already felt myself relax.
I knew I could do that. I could love.
I loved Seetha. And I loved my son. More than anything.
I could love this little one too.
"Go," my father-in-law repeated. "Your parents are waiting... and I'm sure they wish to see their granddaughter too."
I stood, looking over at Seetha for a moment.
"She will be fine," he said, confidently.
So I left the room with Maya and made my way to my father's office. When I arrived, I saw my impatient family waiting there. Only Anbu looked to not be annoyed, and he smiled at me when I looked over at him. "You have kept us waiting for some time, Aaryan," my father said.
I wanted to remind him that my wife was bedridden and unconscious. That I was sure that if I needed to deal with the pressure that came along with that, then they could deal with a little bit of a wait. But I was not in the mood to fight, so instead I sat next to Anbu, who reached over and touched my daughter's face with fondness. "You can hold her," I said to him, ignoring my father's remark.
The youngest of my brother's beamed, carefully taking her from me, as if he was afraid she would break.
My father let out a breath. "We asked you here because we have very important matters to discuss," he said as he walked over to me. I watched as he looked down at my daughter and noticed a flash of something positive make its way across his face. What exactly it was, I'm not sure. Maybe love.
"Go ahead," I said, seeing my mother make her way to us as well. She stood behind Anbu, watching Maya intently at her. To be honest, seeing the way my mother looked at her grandchildren often made me wonder what our lives would be like if she had simply raised us ourselves.
Maybe Seetha's father's explanation of being a father reflected on mother's as well. Maybe if my mother was allowed to be a mother, we would all be a lot happier and she would be a different woman.
It made me appreciate Seetha's stubbornness when it came to raising Aathavan now more than ever.
"The topic we are going to discuss is going to make you uncomfortable," my father continued, looking at me now. "But it must be discussed."
My brow rose. I assumed this had to do with some sort of issue with some random neighbor that for some strange reason, we had to deal with. Now, of course, I realized that this must have to do with Seetha.
"Seetha is not getting better," he said.
I let out a breath. "Just give her some time-"
"It has been half a month," my mother said.
My father nodded, still looking at me. "If she does not begin to get better, then she will, at the least, starve to death."
He was right about how I would feel. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.
I was beginning to get angry.
"If Seetha passes-"
"We are not having this discussion," I said, firmly, trying very hard to control myself.
"Aaryan, this discussion needs to be had," my father responded. "We cannot be scrambling last minute to find you a new bride-"
"So you have decided then?" I asked. "That she is going to die?"
"It is a large possibility-"
"Have you talked to Lady Suhanya? Lady Suhanya and the doctors have been watching her closely-"
"Lady Suhanya-"
"Maybe if you and her would put aside your childish quarreling then you would know the details."
My father raised a brow. "Our quarrelling, as you call it, has no relation to this."
"Yes, I know," I said. "I know exactly what it is in relation to and I will not have you confirming my wife's death because of such foolishness."
Now my father looked offended. "Aaryaraavanan-"
"And what do you propose I do?" I asked, standing up. "Get ready to marry a new woman? Push aside the old like you did?"
From the look on my father's face, I think he would have slapped me if he could. But he could not. I watched him try to control himself, trying not to overreact in front of all of his sons as well as his wife. And though I spoke out of anger, and did not really realize what I had said until after I said it, I stood my ground. I wasn't necessarily wrong to say it. Maybe it was not my place, but I was not wrong.
He stared at me, as if I was a child again. The kind of stare an angry father would give their child when they had done something wrong, but they could not discipline them at that moment.
He stood there, considering his options on how to handle this, and then finally, his glare hardened. "Everyone else," he started. "Leave."
My mother and my brothers looked a little surprised. Usually discussions of this nature seemed to always require an audience in my family. Of course, I knew I must have crossed some sort of line with my words, and so he felt the need to set me straight, and not while others could hear.
I looked over at my mother and saw her frown. She did not oppose him though, and that was enough for me to know that she and my father had already come to some sort of decision that she was satisfied enough with to be okay with leaving.
Akshay was first out, being as uninterested as always, and Aarun put an arm around my mother and left, but only after giving me a suspicious smirk. Finally, Anbu stood, Mayalahi still in his arms. He stepped over to me to hand her back but I held my arm up. "Take her back to my room," I said.
I did not want her here.
This energy was not good. This energy was not the kind of energy I wanted to subject my daughter to. It was the kind of energy I wanted to protect her from.
Anbu hesitated but nodded, walking off with the still sleeping Maya.
When everyone was gone and the door was shut, my father looked at me a deep frown, hands behind his back. "That was childish," he said. His voice was deep and impatient. "The most childish I think you've ever been."
"Maybe if you acted more like a father and less like a child then I would do the same."
"Aaryan, I ought to smack some sense into you."
"Try me, please, father," I said, sitting back down.
"Do you realize that you have lost your mind?"
"No thanks to you lot."
"Aaryan!" My father shouted. He shouted it so loudly that it startled even me, and I was certain that anyone remotely close to this room would have heard it.
I narrowed my eyes.
"What has become of you?" He asked. "You are meant to be the next Maharajah."
"And I have done nothing to prove that I am incapable of doing so, unless falling in love with a girl who happens to have been born a peasant counts."
"Aaryan, at this point it does not matter how much you have proved yourself," he said. "None of the nobles want you as their King anymore!"
My brows rose. "What?"
"You marry a peasant, you cut off your brother's hand for her sake, you let her give birth to your firstborn son in a farmhouse, you condone the change of traditions so that she can care for her baby and allow for peasants and warriors to rise up against the crown, and now you take on womanly roles such as childcare while your wife is half dead."
I shot up from my seat, enraged. "And I will do it all again!" I raged. "Again, and again and again if I need to! Because you can say that list a hundred times but each time I want you to really think it through and realize that I have done nothing wrong!"
"It is not about right and wrong, son," my father argued. "It's about rules-"
"It is in my book," I argued. "And if I have to end the career, or even the life, of every treasonous noble who thinks otherwise than I am more than willing to do so."
My father scoffed. "You cannot be serious."
"I do what I please," I continued. "I always have! And I do it with no regret because doing what I please is doing what is right by the gods, what is right by myself and what is right by my wife."
"What are you going to do if she dies?" He hissed the question.
"She will not die," I began turning around to leave. "She's not going to make it so easy for all you people who seem to have so much dismay for her simply because the gods put her in the belly of a mother who loves her dearly, and a father who is a peasant."
"Do not turn your back on me, Aaryan!"
"I refuse to entertain such conversations any further," I said, looking at him. "From this point, father, I swear to you that any further discussion such as this, any further questioning of my decisions and my motives in regards to my peasant wife, or any threats to my throne and my new family will be met by the blade of my sword."
"Foolish boy, your words will cost you everything!"
I felt blood in my mouth as I chewed on the inside of my cheek angrily, but I said nothing further, reaching the door. But just as I reached out to open it, my father continued. "You picked a perfect name for her, you know?"
I hesitated. "What?" I spat, turning my head to look at him.
"Mayalahi," he said, glaring at me with disappointment. "A beautiful illusion."
I narrowed my eyes at him.
Alahi meant beautiful. Maya, though also an alternative name for the Goddess of war, Durga, meant illusion.
"You will come to understand soon... that this life you seem to want for yourself is just that. A beautiful illusion."
I shook my head in disbelief, but then turned to leave.
When I opened the door, I was surprised by my mother standing at the other side of it. I frowned some more before shutting the door behind me.
"Your father is only looking out for you," she said. "He wants the best for you."
"I know," I said. "But it seems that his ideals and mine do not match up."
"Why are you being stubborn?" My mother asked. "You know these ideals of yours will not work out for you. You are smarter than that-"
"Can you not just be happy that I am happy?" I asked. "Can you not just be my mother for once in your life?"
My mother hesitated, but narrowed her eyes. "Are you happy?"
Now I hesitated.
"Maybe if you were truly, truly happy, I wouldn't be so upset."
It seemed like happiness was the topic of the day.
"No," I said, honestly. "And I won't be so long as I continue to need to explain myself for no reason. I will not be happy so long as my family and I stay here."
My mother's lips parted a little bit as she looked at me with a look of confusion.
I let out a breath and turned around.
It was about time that we finally left this place that I had called home for so long.
I was never going to be happy here.
---
The estate had been built months ago, though Seetha and I decided to hold out on moving, seeing as she would struggle to travel while pregnant, and she would need to spend time at the palace organizing those schools she was starting up. So the estate stayed vacant for a few months, Seetha not having seen it even once.
My father had heard that I was having this building built, though he never brought it up or never asked me about it. I wondered why, but never pushed it. I thought that maybe I was having it built as a present for Seetha... or maybe for my son.
But again, I never brought it up with him alone.
A week after my heated conversation with my father however, once my room and Seetha's room was emptied out and everyone in the palace was talking about how the Crown Prince of Chandraba had chosen to move away from the palace, my father came storming.
His threats were strong. Threats of punishment and threats of disowning me, all because I was breaking another tradition. The Crown Prince was not meant to live outside the palace, even if it was only a short distance away. Apparently it was unheard of.
Of course, I had already made up my mind.
In fact, we had already transported my still unconscious wife there, along with her parents and my children. Even Lady Suhanya and Seetha's maids agreed, happily, to come.
It seemed that Lady Suhanya's decision to leave with me seemed to especially upset my father. Not because of any relationship the two may, or may not, have had, but because she was, in his words, enabling my supposedly life ruining decisions.
It did not matter though.
Because after my father tried, and failed... after I left the palace on Bhumi and made it to our new, quiet and peaceful residence, I began to feel that even the gods had blessed this decision.
With my arrival at the home, passing the small, but glorious gardens and making my way to the entrance, I was greeted by Aathavan, who ran around the new home joyously as Seetha's maids chased after him to make sure he was safe.
I knelt down and the boy jumped into my arms, giggling excitedly and hugging me tightly as I got up, but just as I did, from the top of the tall, split staircase, Lady Suhanya rushed down as fast as she could. She stopped at the landing, looking at me with wide, happy eyes.
She took a deep breath and smiled widely.
"Seetha has awoken!"