Page 239 of A King's Oath

“I sacrificed all of myself. You became a part of me and without thinking I sacrificed you too. It. Ends. Here. I am not going to leave you or Brahmi. Ever. You can push me away and tell me to return to Nawanagar and come back only for visits and I will buy the land opposite yours and build a house there and live there. Not to stalk you but to be here. For all the good days and especially the bad days. You are mine, Brahmi is mine and it’s time I took care of you two. You don’t want romance and soft things? Fair enough. I’m going to give you love. I gave it to you once, and it’s only been growing and evolving inside me ever since I withheld it from you. I am going to give it and keep giving it until you accept it. I missed one penalty shot, Ava. That’s it. Now you can keep harping on about it and I will happily listen to it all my life. But I am not missing another one. This chukker is mine and there is nothing that will stand in my way. Not even you.”

He tipped her face and kissed her forehead.

“Be ready by 7, both of you.”

————————————————————

Samarth adjusted the bouquets in his hand for the third time and took a deep breath.

It wasn’t the flowers' fault.

It was his hands.

Sweaty. Trembling. Like an absolute rookie.

The garden crunched faintly under his boots as he walked the familiar gravel path. The sun was ready to set, leaving the garden in that magical purple hour, fireflies buzzing, birds singing their goodnight song.

He tugged at his suit lapel. Tonight he wore a traditional evening tailcoat — pure black wool, cut sharp to his frame, the long tails sweeping behind him like a silent pledge. A crisp white shirt underneath, with a stiff winged collar. A white bow tie, hand-tied, slightly uneven because he had been shaking all evening. Black trousers with a silk stripe down the side.

No royal insignia, no family crests, no embellishments.

Just him.

Stripped of titles. Carrying only what mattered.

In his left hand he carried two bouquets — one, a modest bunch of fuchsia bougainvillea without their thorns, bound with a silk ribbon the colour of his helmet. The florist had believed him insane when he had ordered this specific arrangement, but delivered above and beyond his expectations. His second order had been a reckless, riotous spray of lavenders — wild and beautiful, tied together with a pure white silk ribbon for the childwho had called him Chevalier and smashed open his world with a smile.

He hesitated at the base of her porch, boot tapping an uneven mossy stone.

The house glowed from the inside, two pretty figures moving around looking like a frenzy of last-minute prep. That gave him the confidence.

He swallowed. Shifted the bouquets to his right arm. Ran a hand through his hair. And rang the bell.

“He’s herrrrrrrre!!!” A shrill excited cry made him squint.

“Slow, slow, a princess acts with poise,” Ava rebuked quietly.

“Like this?”

Samarth wanted to see what ‘like this’ was.

“Yes, now open the door.”

Samarth braced himself as the door was thrown open. Nothing poised in that. But the princess that greeted him on the other side was the prettiest little sight he had ever seen.

“Hello,” he breathed, getting down on one knee as she came hopping to him in her long white dress and tiny heels, her hands out to him for balance. He caught them in time and gathered her to his chest. “You look like the brightest star born in princess form.”

Her mouth split into a preening grin. She tried to push the wisps of hair away from her face and into her updo that he guessed Ava had spent a good few hours over. The tugging would bring it all down. So he took the lock of hair and gently pushed it behind her ear.

“What’s the surprise?! And is there really dancing? A ball dance? I don’t know how! I tried to see a YouTube vlog but Roma and Diana didn’t have a ball-dancing vlog…”

“Who are Roma and Diana?”

“The YouTube children’s channel she gets to watch for half an hour a day.”

His eyes whirled up and there she was — the nebula that had given birth to his star. His mouth dropped open. The powder pink ball gown was stunning. He didn’t understand fabric and cuts. But it looked a whole lot better than it had on the mannequin. And he had bought it because it looked the best.

“Your mouth is open,” Ava supplied. He snapped it shut — “Oh, umm, this is for you,” he presented the lavender bouquet to Brahmi who accepted it like it was a live-wire bomb of precious jewel stones. She brought it to her chest and hugged it close. He rose to his feet and presented the second one to Ava. The deep fuchsia flowers complemented the pale colour of her dress, and the shine in her eyes.

---