Page 19 of A King's Oath

There stood Ava, his helmet in hand, looking so amazing that he had to blink twice to believe that it was her. She wasn’t in her uniform. Maybe that’s why he was so… shaken. She looked absolutely… what was the word? He didn’t have a word.

In a royal blue dress that came up above her knees, with her hair down unlike those high ponytails, a pair of sunglasses pushed up into the top of her head… she looked like she was meant to be here. And be by his side. But why was she here?

“Why are you here?” He asked, without filtering that thought.

Her face fell.

“Umm… I’m not stalking you, if that’s what you think!” She shrugged. “Now that we are in 9th and allowed to go out during the weekends with our parents’ permission… I got it and came to watch the match. To cheer Saraswati Crest… Kush and all.”

Samarth strode to her, crossing hay and sunshine and dried mud of the stables’ floor.

“Say Kush’s full name.”

“What?”

“Say Kush’s full name,” he asked. “You came to cheer him, right?”

Her eyes narrowed. She raised his helmet between their stomachs — his stomach and her chest, and rammed it into him. He bucked forward, laughing.

“I have a game to win, Ava!” He doubled over playfully, not reaching for his helmet.

“Then act properly with me,” she ordered.

“You started.”

“You asked me why I was here!”

“It was a reflex!”

She took a deep breath, then crinkled her nose.

“It smells, huh?” He asked, straightening to his full height.

“You didn’t clean their potty this morning?” She cocked her head to one side, her waist cocking to the other side. And what a pretty sight that was. She also carried a small brown purse slung close to her armpit, looking very… grownup.

“Manure,” Samarth pronounced, reminding himself to keep his eyes focused and his mind out of the gutter it was quickly scrambling towards when Ava was in sight.

“Same shit,” she retorted. Then, as if the thought had struck along with her impish grin — “Pun intended.”

Samarth couldn’t go on then. He stepped closer, closing the little distance between them so that she had to crane her neck fully to look at him — “Seriously though, Ava. Why are you here?”

“To cheer Kush.” This time she said it with her naughty little smile. “And,” she turned his helmet around in her hands, observing it — “This is very… blue.”

“It is. It also has my name on it,” he pointed proudly. His first personalised helmet commissioned by Maan bhai on his 15th birthday. Two were commissioned — one had the dynasty insignia of Nawanagar and was meant to be kept for his personal practise and games in the future. This one had the Saraswati Crest emblem embossed at the base of its back.

“Sam,” Ava pronounced, her finger running down the three letters of his Polo name, inscribed in gold on the rim. Then her brown sparkling eyes looked up into his — “I like Samarth more.”

“I am Samarth then.”

The moment those words left his mouth, he blinked. He was taken aback by them, by how easily they had come out. Evidently, Ava too was taken aback and he hoped she wouldn’t run after coming this far. He glanced down at his riding boots, at the tiny scruffs that had already started developing even after shining them spotless only half an hour ago. After this game, they would be worn to the point of recognition.

“Samarth.”

“Hmm?”

Her hands reached up and his helmet settled on his head. Samarth pushed his head up in time for her to reach under his chin and fasten the buckle. She tucked the end in neatly, running her fingers up the seams to check if they were biting. He gulped.

“I came here to do this, and to tell you that…”

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