Page 198 of A King's Oath

“Your sappy does make sense sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

Papa’s body relaxed beside him.

“I will have Hira ben clean his entire room with dhoop tomorrow,” Rajmata said. “Mummy said he is doing so much for the kingdom and now again starting to ride and play polo — maybe it’s najar.”

“When did you start believing in all this?”

“Whatever brings him back,” she patted. “You go to sleep. I’ll wake him up again in half an hour for medicine and more liquid.”

“I’ll sleep if you stop talking.”

She stopped talking. Papa went to sleep. And Samarth kept awake with his eyes closed. This patting was heaven. He wanted to absorb it.

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The day was warm. He turned his head to the light and slowly blinked his eyes open. The sunlight hit his eyes but he didn’t feel it in his skull. His throat wasn’t burning. It just felt dry. Like how it felt when he was recovering from a regular cold.

“Samarth?”

The sound of that voice reminded him that there was a hand on his forehead, shading his eyes from too much sun. He lifted his hand and cupped it, then turned his face to the other side. Rajmata was still there, in the same clothes from last night. Her face was pale, tired, drawn out.

He smiled — “I am fine.”

“Then drink this,” her other hand came up with a glass of Thums Up. He groaned.

“Come now,” she pushed him to sitting. “Finish this.”

“Give me water.”

Her face lit up. She turned to his bedside to fill water in a glass and Samarth got his first glimpse of the space. It was a mini hospital — medicines, water, temperature gun, thermometer, BP machine, syringes, glasses. And of course, the 2-litre bottle of Thums Up.

“Drink and keep drinking,” she passed him a glass of water. It tasted like acid lite version but after the horrors of last night he was done with the taste of Thums Up. He licked his cracked lips and kept drinking.

“Apply this,” she passed him a jar of Vaseline.

“Where?”

“On your lips. How do you feel?”

“Like I have been halved away. Where is Papa? Is he at court?”

“Yes. And he will handle it.”

“What has been told about me?”

“The truth.”

“Hmm…”

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Wrong question. Are you going to eat quietly or am I to employ Sharan tactics?”

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