Page 280 of A King's Oath

Bade Rawal nodded, his eyes landing on her. Avantika stilled.

“Kumari, are you willing to accept Samarth and come into our dynasty as his wife?”

Her mouth sealed shut.

“Samarth must have told you about our palace and our dynasty. Women have led it, be it from the fore or…” he glanced at his wife with silent adoration. “Behind the scenes. So, one fun fact — never be embarrassed or shy away from voicing your thoughts aloud here. In front of anybody. Alright?”

She nodded.

“Now tell me.”

Avantika glanced at her mother, then her father. They were right. They had never forced their decisions on her. They had always been there to guide, to talk, to listen, and to take away as much pain, pressure or guilt as they could. In this too, she could see they were right there with her — whatever she decided.

She glanced down, and in her periphery saw Samarth fidget. Humour bubbled inside of her. He had simmered like this at 15 when asking her to date him, and then again at 26 when asking her to marry him, then all over again very recently when begging for her forgiveness and her hand in marriage. He looked cool on the surface but she could see him bursting inside.

Avantika shook her head.

His body zapped forward.

“Yes, Bade Rawal,” she answered immediately to keep him at bay.

“That’s the best news I have heard since I heard of Brahmi,” Bade Rawal grinned, turning his face back to her parents.

“Kunwar saheb,” he folded his hands again, his next words so poignant that they brought Avantika to tears. “Bless my dynasty with your daughter.”

Her father’s eyes fell shut. A second passed. He opened them, looked at Bade Rawal, then nodded.

46. She Is My Granddaughter

— AVANTIKA —

Dev Diwali. That day was chosen for their wedding. It was not too far away now, all of four weeks away. The muhurat would be at night, post Tulsi Vivah celebrations would conclude across the kingdom and the season would open for weddings. Theirs would be the first for this year. Horoscopes had been studied, matched and before nightfall, her life had changed.

“Where is Brahmi?” Bade Rawal asked as they sat down for dinner.

“Eating with Sharan in his room,” his wife replied, coming around the table and placing a bowl of angry-looking red potato gravy by his plate. Avantika didn’t understand why that bowl was different from the big serving bowl filled with the same gravy until Bade Rawal looked at it with distaste.

“It’s temporary,” she chided.

“What is temporary?” Avantika asked Samarth softly.

“Torturing me,” Bade Rawal answered. She whirled her face, only to find him smirking at her. “Would you like to share in my torture?” He offered her his bowl.

“Put it back, Sid,” his wife threatened. To her, she smiled — “Bade Rawal has been going around with BP floating at 160-90.”

“Oh… are you ok?”

“I am not. I am being fed food without salt.”

His wife spooned some from his bowl and took a bite — “Perfectly seasoned with the right amount of salt. Now eat.”

“Where’s my puri?”

“Rotli today.”

“Is your father’s BP high because of us?” She asked Samarth softly again.

“Because of him,” Bade Rawal replied again before Samarth could open his mouth. He shook his head, his hair flopping over his forehead. It wasn’t as long as it used to be but had begun to move again with his movements.

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