Page 250 of A King's Oath

“Bullshit metre?” Brahmi asked. His eyes widened.

“She knows how to spell,” Ava grinned.

“I…” he stuttered. “I meant… bullpen. Bullpen.”

“You don’t know how to spell, Papa. It’s b-u-l-l-p-e-n.”

Ava laughed.

“Uh… yes. My bad,” he glared at Ava from the corner of his eye. Her mirth multiplied. And the table, his family’s table, was allthat he had never expected he would ever have but dreamed of with every fibre of his being once upon a time.

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He was showered and messing around in the hall, waiting for the girls to emerge after their showers so that he could quickly pop out and get his bag from his hotel. He was on his exploration of their family photos mounted on a wall when his little jockey came bounding towards him, her hair flying behind her. He caught her and threw her up in the air, eliciting more giggles.

“Who are you running from?”

“Mama!” She bundled her arms around him and stuck to his side from cheek to toe like a limpet, her legs going around his waist. He cupped her head and cradled her close just as Ava came striding out of her room.

“This is not going to work every time!”

She was in her bathrobe, freshly showered and holding a hairbrush and hair ties and some girly pins.

“Come down.”

Brahmi shook her head.

“Enough, now. Come down. Samarth, set her down.”

“What’s going on?” He asked, not letting up on her.

“Nothing, it’s an everyday struggle.”

“What?”

“Tying our hair! A new hairstyle every day and every day it ends up coming off for a ponytail. Tomorrow onwards I am not doing your Diana hairstyles,” she scolded Brahmi. Samarth glanced at his daughter. He was slowly discovering the royal moody queen inside her. And he knew he had to side with Ava and be therighteous parent but he was new to this. He would be cut some slack if he remained soft for a bit more, wouldn’t he?

He looked at Ava and pleaded with his eyes. She glared. He prayed with his eyes. Her brows went up in a shrug.

“A ponytail, is it?” He hitched Brahmi higher. Her face turned to him and she nodded.

“I am an expert at that.”

“How can you be an expert at a ponytail.”

“I have some experience,” he glanced at Ava. “Come here.”

He sat down on the sofa and set her in front of him. Then he took the brush from Ava’s hands, and brushed Brahmi’s hair as best as he could because he was no expert contrary to his claims. For every tug, he left a kiss and she seemed to like that.

“High ponytail!” She demanded. “High, higher.”

He obliged, holding her hair up — “Did I get it all?”

She nodded. Samarth glanced up at Ava to ask for a hair tie when he found her eyes misty. They met his, and her mouth curled up in a smile. Those two dimples, those two rare dimples he hadn’t had the honour of seeing for years popped at the corners of her mouth. He reached out and pecked the only part of her that was within aiming distance — the crook of her elbow. She snapped out of her moment and handed him a hair tie, stepping back.

Samarth tied his daughter’s hair and pushed his head around to check — “Look here?”

She did, with a big smile.

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