Page 171 of A King's Oath

She turned and walked into the King’s chambers. His Papa’s chambers. Now empty. Samarth walked inside and found that everything was just as it had always been, right down to the mobile charger that Papa used on the left side of his bed.

“Close the door, Samarth.”

He clicked it shut.

“Do this,” she turned to him. “Do this, Samarth.”

He shook his head — “I assure you that no harm will come to Sharan under my watch. Or Nawanagar. I promise to rule on his behalf until he grows up. But I cannot go back on my oath.”

“Your father did not want Sharan to be the king. He wanted you.”

“But he understood why I couldn’t be.”

“He is not here now and this was his wish. Do it for Papa, Samarth. Please, do it for him.”

He shook his head — “If anything, I should hold onto my promise tighter for him.”

Maarani grunted. She had never grunted like that, like she was somebody else. Somebody who was not a queen. Her face was exasperated, like she would grab him and whack his back like she did with Sharan when he was not listening.

“The roof is falling over our heads! We cannot hold onto our belongings! We have to hold up the roof, Samarth. Your foiba’s son is waiting to start a rebellion. This is the time of transition,and more such vultures will come. Nawanagar needs a strong leader, a king they know and trust. Sharan is not ready…”

“But he will be, Maarani…”

“Please, let me say it.”

“Yes, Maarani.”

“We both know that Sharan is not ready to grow up into politics. Your father passed on his sports and politics to you, and he passed on his science to Sharan. He is nine, but it is clear where his aptitude lies. I have been deluding myself thinking that in time he will learn…”

“You are not deluding yourself, Maarani. He will. At his age even I wasn’t interested in these affairs…”

“You were holding mock courts and planning ways to make people come to you.”

“That was childishness.”

Maarani’s hands folded together — “I did this. All those years ago, I did this. I am sorry…”

“Don’t do this,” Samarth stepped back, horrified. “Please, Maarani.”

That silenced her momentarily.

“Let me leave with Sharan now,” he placated. “I have kept everybody waiting at court…”

“I relieve you of your oath.”

Samarth stilled. In front of his eyes, before he could even process it, she filled water into her palm — “I, Maarani Tara Sinh Solanki, relieve you of your oath. And as the Maarani of Nawanagar, I order you to take the throne of Nawanagar.”

Samarth watched in horror as she slipped the water into her mouth, just like he had dropped it to the ground many years ago. His hands and feet went cold. His breath collapsed. And yet nothing moved — not in his body, not in his brain.

Soft fingers pried something from his hands. Samarth glanced down and saw her prying the Raj Sinh Mohar, keys and papers from his fingers. Those same hands returned and touched his cheeks. Samarth stared down at the woman who was his father’s wife. Suddenly looking old and yet like… she was going to hold him up if he crumbled. His breaths came faster. His nostrils felt warm. Hot. Hot. Hot. Samarth opened his mouth to swallow whatever was coming but Maarani did not let his gaze leave hers.

“Samarth,” her thumbs pressed into his cheeks. Hard. It hurt, and he wanted to ask her to stop. He wanted to cry. His face dropped just in time to save the trickle of his tears from her gaze. She nudged it back and he stared at her, crying. He felt his eyebrows collapse, then his eyes, then all of his face as she held his jaw tighter.

“Rawal Samarth Sinh Solanki. Papa wanted that. I want that. And you will do that.”

He couldn’t hold himself up as his whole body collapsed. He didn’t even care because her arms came under his armpits to keep him from falling. When Samarth came up for air, he was crumpled on his father’s bed, his head buried into Maarani’s stomach, his sobs deafening even to his own ears.

“No…” he tried to push out but couldn’t. “No, no, no!” He sobbed, unable to stop. “Papa.”

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