Page 67 of A King's Oath

“I asked, they agreed.”

“That’s it?”

“Papa, maybe they had never seen me, talked to me, known me. Now they do. And they will know more of me in the days to come,” he smiled. “That is why they sent Tara Devi with me.”

“Where is she? Who did you send with her?”

“Harsh.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Nobody.”

Another deep breath, eyes still on him. His father’s hand landed atop his head, gripping it solidly and patting once.

“I do not like this, Samarth, and we are not done talking about it. But since we are here now, and so much has already happened, tell me, honestly — is it alright for you to have Tara in our family? Are you ready for a lifetime of another woman occupying the place your mother once occupied on the throne of Nawanagar? In my life?”

“That place had always been empty, Papa,” Samarth relayed the truth. Even at the onset of this discovery, he had never been worried about his mother’s place being usurped. Simply because he had never seen it occupied in the first place.

“Do you like her enough to make her a part of every meal, every festival, every holiday, every night conversation in our lives? Take your time, meet her, get to know her…”

“I told you once before also, Papa. She was a smart lady when I first met her. I don’t know her yet but if you like her, then I will like her too. She catches oranges from trees and tells fun stories about Maan bhai. What’s not to like?”

For the first time in weeks, months, his Papa chuckled. Really chuckled. Samarth felt his spine come alive with tingles again, shivers running up and down. This was it. This, and all that was to come, was worth it.

“Please go see her, Papa. She is waiting for you in Anand Baag.”

Another pause. His father’s eyes vacillated, as if still debating. Then, finally, he took another breath and drilled him with his Rawal eyes.

“Go and take my place in Holika dahan,” he ordered. “Apologise to Giriraj Hukum and relay to him that I will see him inside.”

“Yes, Rawal.”

“We are not done talking about this.”

“Yes, Rawal.”

Again, Papa’s hand landed atop his head. And then he was gone — striding towards Anand Baag, the new pomegranate orchard that he had commissioned this month. Now Samarth could see who he had commissioned it for, or rather, in whose memory.

When his father had turned out of his line of vision, and the roaring Holi fire glowed in front of him, Samarth reached inside his chest and unfurled that regret.Ava. Ava. Ava.He unfolded that grief, took another second to stand with it, then began tostride in the direction of the fire, ready to hurl it in and be done with it. He was young, she was young, it would be easy to let go.

Jai Dwarkadhish.

13. Who Is This Whacko Woman?!

— AVANTIKA —

The first day of the last term of Standard 9th. Samarth was absent.

Avantika stared at his empty place at the far end of the class, his window seat waiting. Ms. Shanaya droned on about some iron ore mines in eastern India, but Avantika could not concentrate. Advay passed her a chit. She opened it.

Come back and play hangman with us

She set it aside. Tulika took it and turned her body instead, using her pencil on the bench behind them to play. Avantika kept staring, worried. She had been unable to speak to him ever since his father’s wedding had been announced.Wedding. That had been a googli right out of nowhere. When Samarth had told her about it, she had been shocked, surprised, curious and excited all at once. He had not talked long though, telling her that everything was going to be done quickly and he might not be available to talk.

She had been in Copenhagen and anyway waking up at the time when he went to sleep. Avantika had let him go, threatening him for pictures. Lots of pictures. He hadn’t sent them but textedwhen the wedding was done. That was the day before yesterday. He hadn’t said he would be absent today.

Avantika kept her hopes up as the period progressed, hoping he would run into class late, then compel whichever teacher was teaching to allow him entry with his honest, sweet charm. Her hopes kept dying with every period that passed.

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