Page 38 of A King's Oath

“Oookay,” Kirti didi warned, a pot of rice in hand. And they sat up.

Within minutes they were gathered in a round circle as if worshipping a cult. Or enjoying a Gujarati meal the old-school way, with pots of food settled in between them and paper plates and styrofoam cups ready. There was fried rice, a very brown-looking angry hakka noodles and a gravy that the girls called paneer-chilly but Samarth wasn’t too sure the white pieces were paneer. There was a 2-litre bottle of Coke though.

Plates were filled, forks were passed around, and they dug in. It wasn’t the best food he had eaten, but the white pieces were indeed paneer and did taste better than the other two delicacieson the menu. Samarth did not comment, even when Gopi made jokes about the limp noodles noodling too hard.

“Do you like it?” Ava asked, biting her lip. She looked mildly nervous. “I know we said pizza but Kirti didi couldn’t leave for the market…”

“Ava,” Samarth stopped her. “It is good, very good.”

“You are lying. It’s not good, even I didn’t like it so much,” she complained, twirling her fork in the limp noodles and closing her mouth grudgingly around them.

“Is this your first time cooking?”

She nodded solemnly. “Except Maggie and cold coffee we don’t make anything here.”

Samarth smiled — “You, Kumari of Gwalior, made this food, invited us, are sitting down in this small space in your dorm room feeding us… trust me, Ava — this is better than good. You haven’t seen what other princesses do.”

Her eyes narrowed — “And you know what they do?”

“I do,” he murmured in her ear. Then pulled back, giving a dramatic pause. “And I don’t like it.”

“How many princesses have you known in your life, Samarth?” She poked.

“Met many, known only one.”

That gulp, those ruddy pimples burning redder, the tiny mouth pushing open. Samarth wanted to pump the air. The joys of finally being able to do this to her. The joys of being fed by a princess like her. The joy of sitting beside her.

“Alright, we cooked, you will clean. And then there’s a surprise,” Kresha announced.

“No, no, no.” Samarth looked at Ava. “We are leaving.”

“You can’t leave before cleaning.” Ava leaned back on the base of her bed and laid her head back. Samarth sighed, picking up her plate, piling it over his and reaching for Kirti didi’s who was next to him. She held onto it — “No, I’ll take it.”

“Leave it, Kirti didi.”

“It’s alright. You are a Rajkumar…”

“I am Samarth,” he smiled.

The room quietened. In that momentary silence, he slipped the plate out of her hand and rose to his feet.

Together, the three of them managed to throw the plates, wash the utensils and clean the platform. When they emerged, the room’s lights were dimmed to some soft mood lighting. It looked like a proper princess room with the night lamp on. The girls were still on the floor, their ‘dining space’ cleaned up.

“Ok,” Ava pulled him by the hand just as the others settled around, taking pillows for support, leaning on the wall, cosying up in case of Kresha and Gopi. Ava passed out AirPods, one for each of them. And then she hit play on her phone. A. P. Dhillon began to sing in Punjabi on the same usual beat.

“Change!” Gopi tapped his AirPod.

“I have the control and we are sharing playlists. This is mine. Next up is…” Ava went around. “Kirti didi!”

Samarth sat back, leaning against the base of her bed, and Ava came and burrowed beside him, their arms touching, her body moving from time to time to the beats. Then it was Kirti didi’s turn and surprise of all surprises! She selected Taylor Swift. August.

“Ready to go home now, Samarth?” Ava’s jaw nudged his bicep.

“I’m staying,” he answered.

“For the music?” She grinned.

“For the company.”

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