Page 85 of A King's Oath

“I’ll…” Samarth began to push around the seats. “help out. Sit, Ava.”

“I’ve got it!” She held one hand up, turning and walking away to her seat. She deposited his bag and in record time gathered all her stuff, including her pink and grey bunny eye mask.

“I don’t sleep on planes usually but these are really comfy…” she snickered, holding the embarrassing eye mask up. The British gentleman just smiled and opened her way.

“Thanks, sir.”

“Not at all.”

Avantika hightailed it down the aisle and skidded to a halt at Samarth’s row. He was helping the Air hostess clear the papers and crockery for her to sit. When he saw her, her arms loaded with her handbag, iPad, pencil, headphones, eye mask and water bottle, he just laughed quietly.

“Take it! What are you laughing at?” She gestured to her full arms. He picked it all one by one, laying it meticulously around her seat.

“And this?” He held her eye mask stretched over her head as if to push it on. “You don’t sleep on flights. Or do you now?”

“I don’t!” She pulled it from his hand.

“And this doesn’t grow?” He patted the top of her head, which, for the record, had grown a good one and a half inches since Standard 10th. It still didn’t reach above his smug chin. So Avantika snapped the back of her hand on the said chin and plopped down on her seat, pushing her feet out of the shoes she had been half-wearing.

“Oww,” he lowered himself gracefully on his side of the seat, rubbing his chin. “You are stronger than you used to be.”

“And you are still not as bright as they thought you to be.”

“Why?”

“Because 1. I have grown about 2 inches in height. And 2. A person who does not sleep on a flight but carries an eye mask does so to fake sleep and get some rest…”

“Dessert, Your Highness?” The Air hostess returned, cutting their conversation off.

“Yes, please. The…” Avantika ran her eyes down the menu. “100% Vanilla. And the… no, that’s it.”

“Very well. The rum-on-the-rocks for you is on its way, Your Highness,” she informed Samarth.

“Actually, I’d rather have the 100% Raspberry. Please cancel the rum.”

“Right away, Your Highness.”

Avantika turned to him, lowering the privacy screen — “Thank you for your generosity, Kunwarji.”

He smirked. “Who said I am giving you my Raspberry dessert, Kumari.”

“You don’t like raspberry, Samarth.”

“You didn’t like it either.”

“I just wanted to see its colour.”

“What?” He laughed, crossing one leg over the other and turning his whole body towards her. “See its colour? What’s this new sensational craze?”

“Research,” she held her iPad up, the watercolour mockups of Bougainvillea flowers brushed across the canvas.

“Research for what?”

“For my new job and their new campaign.”

“In Paris? You were into designing logos, no?”

“No.”

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