Page 65 of A King's Oath

“Holika dahan’s muhurat is early morning this year,” he observed, more to himself than anybody else, nodding at the palace guards folding their hands and bowing their heads to him.

The last day of Fagun was a revelry in the palace. Everything too happy, too lively, too bright.

“So many people so early in the morning?” Tara Devi remarked.

“We burn a holi in the palace grounds. It is open for everybody to come and worship,” Samarth glanced at the dashboard clock. “Papa must have set fire to it already.”

Harsh turned the wheel of the car and brought it to a crawl. The massive fire roared in the foreground of the pinkish sky. People doing parikrama, pouring water from their vessels, throwing coconuts, dhani, peanuts as offerings to Agni dev… and his Papa. His despondent, despaired Papa dressed in his traditional regalia of white angarkha and their dynasty kasumbi paagh and shawl, smiling at all the people that came to him, touching their platters as they offered him their first prasad.

Samarth now knew what a fake that smile was. Even when Giriraj Hukum, standing beside him leaned in to whisper something, a joke for sure, Papa laughed robotically.

The car stopped and Samarth pushed open his door — “Come.”

The moment his feet touched the ground, locals surrounded him. He shut the door.

“Dhani lo, Kunwar[32],” they pushed their platters towards him.

“Holi ni Badhai, Kunwar.”

“Kunwar ne nariyal bhaave chhe, ee aapo, Maasi…[33]”

Samarth smiled at them all, accepting their greetings and prasad in his hands, hoping Tara Devi had not gotten down. Thank god the windows of this car were tinted.

“Aa varse dhuleti ramvana ne, Kunwar?[34]”

“Ramees ne, kem nai ramu?” He grinned. “Aapde badha ramsu…”[35]

Samarth didn’t know half the replies he handed out. All he knew was that he kept hoping and praying for Tara Devi to stay inside. It wouldn’t be wise to bring her into the public eye before she met Rawal.

When the current lot finally bid him goodbye and began to walk away, he opened his passenger door and relayed — “Go around the palace, Harsh.” To Tara Devi, he smiled — “Rawal will meet you in the pergola of Anand Baag.”

Harsh glared at him. Samarth could see the tsunami he was waiting to unleash on him. He nodded, gesturing for him to remain calm. Harsh looked away, ahead. Samarth shut the car door and it raced away. The moment it was out of sight, he inhaled again, saidJai Dwarkadhishagain under his breath, and made his way to where Rawal and Giriraj Hukum stood.

“Kunwar, where have you been all day yesterday?” His father’s brows drew together. “Hira ben allowed you to leave the palace until the night.”

“I called her late and told her I am at a safe place.”

“And where would that be?” His father’s hands went behind his back, the tone mildly angry. Samarth glanced at Giriraj Hukum behind — “Jai Dwarkadhish, Hukum.”

He smirked — “Jai Drarkadhish, Samarth. But even I can’t save you from this today,” he cocked his head to his angry father. Samarth shrugged sheepishly, channeling his cutest eyes that he had used as a child.

“Papa, can I talk to you for a second, please?”

Papa kept staring at him unblinking — that look that had the power to break criminals.

“Please?” Samarth pleaded.

“I’ll be back, Giri.”

“Family drama is always fun. Don’t forget to pass on the details,” he waggled his eyebrows at Samarth. Even in this nervous state, Samarth sputtered. Like a teenage girl. Like Ava.

Papa broke the line of people, folding his hands to them and stepping away.

“Come.”

Samarth followed him away from the crowd and towards the lawn at the base of the palace entrance. Nobody flocked here at this early hour. Nobody within earshot.

“I do not like this staying out at night, Samarth. You may have learnt to live on your own at boarding but you are still my child. This will not happen again, understood?”

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