Page 93 of A King's Oath

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“Ava?”

Whose voice was this? Deep, intense, like Samarth’s?

“Ava?” A warm hand on her cheek pushed her hair away. “Get up now, drink this.”

She grumbled, but found her body hauled gently into sitting and a strong arm banding around her back.

“Here, drink. It’s nimbu paani.”

Avantika popped her eyes open to the glass of pink liquid smelling of heavenly lemons. A straw waited just at the edge of her lips.

“Why is this pink?”

“I added black salt. Drink.”

She tucked her hair behind her ears and reached for the glass, holding it with both hands lest she drop it. The straw went into her mouth and she didn’t stop. It was like gulping air — just sweet, sour, tart lemon-flavoured air. Samarth came up behind her.

“What are you doing?”

“Drink.”

Her hair was gathered back from her face and he tied it up. She giggled — “I can feel it’s wonky.”

“I did my best,” he laughed. “Drink.”

“Wait,” she turned. “You had practise!”

“I finished it and came here.”

She nodded, finishing her nimbu paani until slurping noises echoed from her glass.

“Alright, enough. Let’s get some dinner in you.”

“No dinner,” she groaned, slipping back to the side to lie down. He pulled her back up — “It’s just rice and curd. Come.”

“No, Samarth. You go now. I’ll take another dose and sleep.”

“I’ll see you eat and then go. Now get up.”

She didn’t have enough strength to physically protest. Because again he got his arms under her and ferried her to the hall.

“Stop lifting me like I’m a doll!”

“An ill doll.”

She elbowed him.

“Stop hitting me.”

He deposited her on a buttery upholstered chair that absorbed her into it. She crossed her legs and sat back, melding into it, eyeing the small round table tucked into a nook with a long French window overlooking the street. The sun was dipping now, painting the sky a brilliant orange. It was past nine at night. High time the sun set!

Samarth deposited a delicate porcelain plate in front of her, a small heap of steamingrice, curd on the side.

“I have added salt to the rice, just mix it up,” he relayed, placing a similar plate for himself and sitting down in front of her.

“Where’s the spoon?”

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