Page 122 of A King's Oath

He gave a self-deprecating laugh.

“Ok, tell me, what is this investor meeting. This is the first I have heard about it.”

“To sponsor our team. We have Indian big leagues sponsoring us and that’s great, money-wise. But a European sponsor would open doors in this part of the world where polo is slowly gaining traction. Also, more money would mean better promotion, more spectators…”

“Those Gir Zephyr Instagram stories of you riding your horse in all your gear are enough to get the spectators, FYI. At least, the female kind.”

His face reddened.

“But isn’t Nawanagar sponsoring you? Your father owns businesses…”

“He doesn’t own them, the kingdom owns them and he works for them on behalf of the kingdom. And anyway, I do not want my own people to sponsor me. That’s just termed as a hobby then. This is serious business, I need my team and the entire staff to know that we are in real-world big leagues. It’s a niche sport but I want to make it big, bring better livelihoods for all of them — the grooms, the stablehands, the field staff. The money we make is not bad right now. But I say that from a privileged perspective, sitting in my father’s palace. Not everybody on my team has that…”

“I love this.”

“What?”

“This, what you are doing… and how invested you are in it. After seeing you again I have watched a lot of polo reels, but I don’t know much about the professional side of it. Who’s the best polo player in the world currently?”

“Luis Barthelomeow Jr. from Argentina. He ranks number 1 currently.”

“Where do you rank?”

“Not even in the top 50,” Samarth chuckled.

“You will, one day very soon.”

His sweet smile bloomed. A little shy. A little proud. She knew it was like that because she was saying it. She had seen his matches and prize distribution ceremonies. They sang praises before announcing him, kept exalting him while presenting the trophies and the prizes, shaking hands with him longer than necessary. And Samarth never looked half as shy as he did now.

Avantika loved this feeling even more.

“Your 2.15 words stretched a little longer.”

His eyes shifted to the clock and stuttered. He looked like he was losing the greatest battle of his life. He hadn’t looked like this even after missing that big penalty shot in the Under-16 Champions Trophy Final during school. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Samarth.”

“It’s already 6.20,” he looked despondently at her. “We have forty minutes.”

“Actually, we have four days.”

His face screwed.

“I am coming with you.”

“What?” His body jolted, shaking her sofa. She bit back a laugh — “I mean… if you want me to.”

“To Florence?”

Avantika nodded.

“How? Your work? Where are your bags? What will you do there? Wait, you are coming for the tournament or some other work?”

“Hmm. More than 2.15 words for sure. Well done.”

“Tell me, Ava,” he commanded. Unlike his previous commands, this one held some princishness, maybe even some kingishness.

“I had reserved work-from-home days that I will be using tomorrow and the day after. Then it’s the weekend. I will fly back Monday early morning. You will still be there.”

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