Page 150 of A King's Oath

Kresha stopped and turned too — “You forgot your bracelet? Are you ok?” She reached out to check her forehead. Avantika pushed her hand away.

“I was curling my hair and rushed because Kresha Raje couldn’twaaaaitto meet her saiyaanji!” Avantika sing-songed, getting shouldered by her elder sister. She left the pallu of her fuchsia chiffon saree that she had wrapped around her shoulder and checked her left wrist. The stack was pretty but the prettiest of them all was missing. The one Ananya was holding up, running down the sunny alley.

“Where did I forget it?” Avantika pouted, holding her palm out. Ananya looped it around her wrist instead and fastened the Van Cleef & Arpels Alhambra piece that Samarth had gifted her. It had tiny clover-like flowers connected through a delicate golden chain. She had owned a vintage Carnelian necklace and a pair of studs in this set. He had added the bracelet one day in the same stone — to complete her ‘pink’ family. ‘Just like that.’ She hadn’t had the heart to explain to him that it wasn’t pink but brownish-red.

“Why do you look so anxious today, Raje?” Ananya asked, glancing at her face.

“Do I look anxious?” Avantika tried to downplay it.

“Sammy, o, Sammy,” Kresha whispered in her ear. She rolled her eyes.

“You never walk like this, Raje. Is it because your school group will be here?”

“Absolutely, Ananya,” Kresha’s eyes lit up.

“No! Not at all. I am just excited for the weekend,” Avantika jiggled her wrist to set the stack of bracelets right. They had a system where they notched into one another to look perfect. And fit her wrist like a glove. Samarth’s bracelet had effortlessly made its place in between them all.

“Nawanagar ke Kunwar — Samarth Sinh Solanki saheb padhar rahe hai!” The loud announcement of their court crier echoed. Avantika’s goosebumps got goosebumps.

“Oooh.” Kresha’s mouth rounded. Had she not been the bride, Avantika would have locked her in one of these rooms and thrown away the key.

“Fifteen of your friends have already arrived and been shown to their rooms,” Ananya informed. “They will meet you directly at the Chattar Mahal courtyard. Would you like me to announce you to the courtyard?”

“No, no,” Kresha piped. “Let’s welcome the Kunwar of Nawanagar.”

Clueless, Ananya slipped in front of them to lead the way. Avantika fell in step beside her sister — “Listen, Kresha, enough, ok. Now it’s becoming obvious.”

“Ok, you listen,” Kresha hissed back. “Why in the freaking fu… would you say yes to Gopi? After what he did to you? I just can’t with him!”

“It’s all ancient history.”

“Are you sure?”

Avantika stilled. She had spent an entire life fighting and bantering with Kresha and even at the onset of her moving away forever after marriage, she had kept going. True, they had studied on different continents after school… but now Kresha would have her own family, her husband, children someday. With just a few words of concern, straight, without passive aggression, Kresha had made sure that her throat became tight. Avantika swallowed the separation anxiety down.

“See? I knew it… Ananya!” Kresha called out louder. “Let’s go to Chattar Mahal."

“No, it’s fine. Let’s welcome the Kunwar and then we’ll go.”

Kresha glared at her. Avantika nodded.

“Fine.”

They descended the spiral stairs to the Durbar Hall and walked down the ornate space adorned with marigolds. Their parents, Kaka and Kaki Maharaj stood at the threshold of the palace porch, holding the line to welcome the guests. Kaka Maharaj had put his foot down — even if it was a youngsters-only party, as elders they would be there to welcome all the guests. Post which, they would leave and never ask what went down here for the weekend. That had been fair game.

Avantika pulled her saree pallu around her shoulders again, running her fingers down the pretty cream flowers on the fuchsia fabric to ease the butterflies in her belly. She sucked in a breath from rounded lips and caught sight of movement ahead. From between the heads of her father and her uncle she saw him. Samarth. Her Samarth. In his favourite formal blue shirt and tailored charcoal pants, hair in place thanks to his naturalfinish product, ascending the stairs. His eyes were smiling, his hands joined together to her Kaka Maharaj, Papa, Kaki Maharaj and Mummy.

“My eyes!” Kaka Maharaj remarked, stepping up and clasping both of Samarth’s hands in his own. “You look just like Rawal saheb. Until we got this guest list, we didn’t even know you studied with the girls in the same school!”

“It’s a small world, Maharaj.”

“I have heard great things about your polo. Vikram doesn’t play anymore but he gets all the news.”

“I am doing my best to bring it to the centre field of Indian viewership. It’s a game that we gave to the world and then forgot.”

“Some would disagree,” her father chimed in playfully. “But I wholeheartedly agree. I’ve heard them say that it started in the North East.”

“Some say North East, some say Persia. I know for a fact that for Nawanagar — our cavalries have remained active and spirited playing polo between battles and peacetime for centuries. It just got lost for a few decades in between.”

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