Page 152 of A King's Oath

“And, here comes the couple of the hour!” Gopi’s and Samarth’s old polo mate Vishnu announced from somewhere. All eyes turned to them and Avantika moved aside to let Gopi step up beside Kresha. They looked like quite a pair — Kresha in her bright yellow chiffon saree and Gopi in his white-on-white Indian formals.

“Kresha and Gopi! Give it up for the OG Saraswati Crest Timolinee!”

Loud applause went up and the upbeat music changed to heavy Punjabi beats. All eyes turned to the source. Avantika snorted, trying to hold back her laughter. The massive wall-sized screen erected in a shaded alley came alive with an old grainy video. Dholaks and claps seared the air.

“Get him naa!” Kresha came on the screen, all of 16, in her school skirt and a sweatshirt, under a moonlit Saraswati Crest sky.

“He’s not coming!” Avantika’s own voice echoed. “Gopi, just go!”

“Why should I go? He attempted his full Geography paper!” Gopi was arguing. “Make him go!”

Avantika pulled him into the frame and left him in Kresha’s strong hands as the song started. Kresha began to dance to the old tappa, an Instagram challenge where girls would pull their guys to dance with them, teach them the steps — “Bhabho kendi hai pyara Singha velna le aa…”

Gopi tried to push away but she made him follow the hilarious steps. Avantika joined them to hold him in from the other side, giving the performance of the century with him. He tried, the poor guy, looking harassed and completely done.

“I’m out!” He ran off halfway, making them burst into crazy chortles. The audience roared, loud hoots drowning the next few words of the video.

“Now!” Avantika jumped to the fore of the screen and the noise died down. “For the guest of honour!”

“No!” Samarth warned from somewhere. “No, no, no…” he got pushed into the frame by Gopi and Avantika grabbed him by the arm, pulling him between her and Kresha. He tried to run but they held his hands and spun him there.

“I, 2, 3…!” The stanza changed. They sang along — “Bhabho kendi hai Naren Singha velna le aa…”

“No, Ava!” He laughed, trying to run again but she and Kresha squeezed closer to him, dancing to the beats. “It’s an Instagram trend! Come on, 1, 2, 3!” They rolled their hands to their left, screaming — “1, 1, 1…” He rolled his own hands awkwardly along with them, looking ridiculous with that scowl on his face. “Now 2, 2, 2,” They rolled their arms around their heads and he followed suit, an amused snort breaking through that scowl.

“Is this Kresha and Gopi’s wedding or ours?” A hot whisper sounded in her ear. Her most favourite voice in the whole world. Avantika stopped howling with the rest of the lunch party. She felt his heat move away from her and only then turned her eyes sideways. He was standing beside her, hands behind his back, mouth open in a half-laugh at their school shenanigans, eyes bright with sparkles.

So much for asking her to stay away from him! What was he trying to do?

Avantika pushed her head close to his bicep and whispered the words into his White-Oud-smelling shirt — “It can be ours if you want it to be.”

His bicep popped her head off just as Kresha’s head turned over her shoulder. She was shooting fireballs at Samarth. She looked at her, mouthing —Are you ok?

Avantika smiled and leaned into her ear — “I did this, don’t worry about it.”

“This must be hard for you, Ava… you don’t have to spend time with him.”

“He is not the King of Narnia for me to still be pining after him. Chill.”

One more scorching look at Samarth, and Kresha weaved her arm through Gopi’s and they made their way into the courtyard, the video and applause and laughs droning to an end. She began to follow them when her most favourite voice in the world sounded again. This time not a whisper.

“Raje?”

She turned, her stomach clenching at how delicious her maiden moniker sounded on his mouth.

“Narnia is too far. How about your heart?”

She narrowed her eyes at him — “What are you trying to do?”

“What you asked.”

“What I asked, is it?”

He smirked, that eyebrow and that corner of his mouth going up together.

“It’s on, Samarth,” she warned.

“Bring it on,” he grinned, a stray lock of his perfect hair falling over his forehead. It was downright villainous on that pretty face. Her heart. Her stupid, stupid, traitorous heart was jumping up and down.

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