Page 51 of A King's Oath

Her eyes lowered. Samarth smiled. He had rarely ever seen her like this — unsure, reticent, despondent. A part of him revelled in the fact that he was so important to her to make her not only feel like this but also show it openly to him. He had only ever been so special to his Papa and Dada-Dadi Sarkar. Maybe Hira ben. And they hadseenhim grow up, been a part of his growing up.

But then, when he thought about it, Ava too had been a part of him growing up. And she would be a part of him growing up. For a long, long time to come.

“You are not saying anything,” she muttered, eyes still down.

“You are not looking at me.”

“I’m sad.”

His chest melted. Ava confessing that was a big deal.HisAva confessing that tohimwas a huge deal.

“Then look at me and be sad,” he cupped her cheeks again and pushed her face up. She blinked. Her lashes had tiny tears. Only her lashes.

“Ava… don’t cry for me…” he pulled her into his chest.

“I’m not crying for you!” She thumped his ribcage. “I’m crying for the horses of Nawanagar. They don’t know their life is about to get so difficult with you running practises all day every day…”

Samarth’s body vibrated. He rubbed his hands up and down her back, holding her tiny form so close for the last time for a little while. Like he had once thought about hiding her here, he wondered now if he could pack her up in his backpack and carry her home. He even eyed the said backpack leaning on the fence.

“Text every day,” Ava reminded him.

“Every day,” he reaffirmed.

“And FaceTime every night.”

“Every night.”

“And no other princesses.”

“They use strawberry and cherry. I am a peppermint kind of a guy.”

Her body vibrated in his now.

“Look here, Ava.”

She pulled back, one of those rare occasions where she obeyed his command. Samarth grabbed her ponytail and smacked his mouth down on hers, desperation bleeding into him. She gasped, but kissed him back just as desperately, her hands going to the base of his throat, holding him, pulling him down, giving it all to him.

“That’s four,” Samarth pulled back panting.

“What four?” She panted, running the back of her hand across her mouth.

“Two kisses principal, and two more interest,” he nodded, reaching down to grab his backpack. He slung it over his shoulder and took slow steps away from her — “Remember to bring my principal and interest along when you come back from Gwalior, Ava.”

She smiled, her soft eyes giving him that Samarth Expression. He kept walking back, unable to look away until he reached the slope that curved downhill. Ava’s hand raised in a wave and he waved back. Then steeling his heart, and consoling it with the reassurance that four kisses waited for it on the other side of these two months, Samarth turned around and walked downhill.

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“Dada Sarkaaaaar!” Samarth ran down the palace alleys, yelling out for his grandfather. The guards and the courtiers passing him came to a standstill.

“Padharo, padharo, Kunwar!” “Aavi gaya, Kunwar!” “Bade Rawal tamari raah jota hata…”

“Bade Rawaaaaal!!!” Samarth grinned into the holler, using his grandfather’s official title in the kingdom. “Bade Rawallll!”

He turned the final alley and skidded to a stop. Hira ben’s round, tiny but intimidating figure barred his way. Her brows were drawn together, her Gujarati saree thrown haphazardly over her shoulder.

“Awaaj ochcho karo, Kunwar. Dada Sarkar suta hashe[15].”

“Hoon jaagoo choo, Hira ben![16]” His grandfather’s frail voice sounded from behind the half-closed doors of his chambers. “Samarth?”

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