Chapter 29 The Lake of Lights #2
“I wished for the safety of four people,” she said, as she gazed at the lamps undulating on the waters, shining bright against the dark waters, their reflections making them appear more numerous. “My father, my brother, my maid Kalpana’s son…and you.”
If Veer was struck by her confession, he didn’t let it show. He instead focused on the first part. “Your father and brother, I can understand. But what is wrong with Sarun?”
Chandra gave a start and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Why the surprise, Princess?”
“You remembered his name?” she asked in a measured tone.
“I do remember Sarun. He is a nice boy, notwithstanding his appalling lack of manners when addressing others. Why does that amaze you?”
“He is a mere maid’s son. I thought—”
“Ah, but he isn’t a ‘mere maid’s son’ to you, is he, Chandra? He is important to you. Which makes him very interesting to me.”
Chandra stiffened at his words. No matter how hard she tried to shield Sarun, things were getting out of hand. And she still hadn’t decided if it was in everyone’s best interests to come clean about the entire affair.
“So, what’s wrong with him?” he asked.
She detected no insincerity in his question. He wasn’t just asking but was genuinely concerned.
“He…he is sick. It is something we suspect he inherited from his father’s side,” she said carefully.
“And is there no cure for whatever ails him? I thought Amaravathi excelled in the healing arts?”
“No. Unfortunately, our physicians have no idea regarding…his condition. And I’m not even sure it’s something that needs a cure. His mother is taking him to his father’s native place, hoping to get some answers.”
“Hmm…that’s not a bad idea,” said Veer, rubbing his chin. “If he needs any help, let me know. My sister is an expert at some remedies, albeit of a specific kind.”
“Thank you,” she said, slightly taken aback at his generosity in offering his sister’s help.
Silence fell between them. Chandra half hoped he wouldn’t ask her about the lamp she lit for his safety. She tried hard to avert her eyes from his form, stretched out on the sun-warmed steps. The myriad scars amid the defined musculature of his torso only made him more compelling in her eyes.
“What is the fifth lamp for, Princess? You only mentioned four wishes,” came his smooth voice.
Did he not care at all? Was he not curious why she lit a lamp for his safety?
Quelling the disappointment she felt at his unasked question, she said, “Since it is the last wish, it must be held to a higher standard than the other wishes. So, I wished for the safety of Rajgarh, that we may complete this mission without any mishaps.”
A sudden quiet followed her words. He seemed puzzled at her answer.
“Why?” he asked finally. “Why Rajgarh? Why not Amaravathi?”
“Amaravathi is not in imminent danger, unlike Rajgarh,” she said.
“Do you expect me to believe that you care about my kingdom, Princess?” he mocked.
“I care about people, Prince Veer,” said Chandra, correcting him, not rising to his taunt. “Whether they live in Rajgarh or Amaravathi, they are still people with hopes and dreams and lives. And if there is something I can do to help them, I will do it.”
Veer’s smile dripped with sarcasm, and a familiar hardness entered his eyes. “This speech would have worked better if you didn’t bargain with me for those three wishes before agreeing to help me on this quest, Princess,” he said quietly, pricking her conscience.
“I don’t blame you, though,” he continued. “When it comes to a choice, people are rarely selfless. You will always choose a person close to you over hundreds of nameless, faceless strangers. It’s the nature of being human. What I hate is hiding behind false altruism when it is anything but.”
His insight stunned her. Hot tears and shame burned behind her eyelids. The unexpected attack tapped into similar accusations by Kalpana for her actions of the past. When she chose her friend’s life over the safety and peace between two kingdoms.
She blinked back her tears. She deserved his censure.
The tranquility she expected to find here disappeared, along with any desire to linger. She got up with the plate in her hands, climbing the steps blindly when his voice stopped her again.
“Does this belong to you?” he called in an innocent tone. Chandra glanced back to find him holding up a familiar-looking anklet. She hitched up a corner of her saree to find her ankle bare.
“Yes,” she said in relief, starting back down the steps again. “I’m glad you found it. It was given to me on a loan.” She extended her hand to receive it.
Her steps faltered when he curled his fingers into his palm, throwing the anklet back and forth between his hands, making it clear he had no intention of returning it.
“Why did you light a lamp for me?” he asked instead, some dark emotion lighting his eyes.
“Back at your trial, seven years ago, you said you couldn’t stand a husband who was from Rajgarh.
You gave that as a reason for the murder attempt on me.
But then, you do things like this…lighting a lamp and fasting for my welfare. ”
Chandra stared at him in surprise, and Veer clarified. “Shota informed me about your pledge to your goddess. But all this concern seems a bit incongruous, going against your claim of hate. Which is the true emotion, I wonder, Princess?”
Her heart thumped. He did care, after all.
Afraid he would use his earlier incisiveness to dissect why she did it when she herself didn’t completely understand the impulse, she made her answer curt.
“Because you are my husband. It is my duty as your wife to light a lamp for you. That’s all there is to it. ”
“Oh? Is it customary for all the wives to do so?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.
She saw the fallacy in her answer but couldn’t bring herself to lie about it.
“Maybe I thought you needed all the help you can get with your penchant for recklessness,” she said with a bite in her voice.
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Princess,” he said, his tone sardonic, “misplaced though it is.”
“Give me my anklet back,” she said, extending her palm.
“Come and get it yourself,” he invited, dangling the ornament from his long fingers carelessly.
Chandra tried to grab the ornament, but he jerked his hand away.
She tried again, and he skillfully evaded her reach every time.
Exasperated, she made one final lunge, but felt her wrist being grabbed.
She lost her balance on the wet steps and knew as she went down, eyes shut tight, that she was in for a painful landing on the sharp edges of the stone.
Except the fall never happened. She landed with a soft bump against a warm body. Dimly, she heard the plate she must’ve dropped, banging itself on the stones as it rolled into the lake to disappear with a plop into the dark waters.
Chandra opened her eyes cautiously and realized she had fallen into his lap.
Heat radiated from the bare skin of his chest, almost scorching in its intensity. Or maybe it was her. She felt too much because of this awareness that had always existed between them. “That was juvenile,” she said suddenly, breathless.
His eyes crinkled with laughter and something else. “But oh so satisfactory, Princess.”
Laughter faded as they stared at each other, the air growing heavy with unsaid yearnings.
“Are you going to let me go?” she asked, her throat gone dry.
“I never held you back, Princess,” he answered. His voice had dropped an octave and his dark gaze roved lazily over her face, stopping at her lips for an inordinate amount of time.
With a start, Chandra realized what he said was true. There was nothing holding her back from getting up and walking away.
She struggled to brace herself from her ungainly position in his lap. Her palm landed on his hard thigh, and she stilled, as if frozen.
They were so close and…she noted that his eyes were the deepest black of soot, with long lashes and high-arching brows. He was handsome as a god and Chandra felt impious for even thinking this way, but there was nothing she could compare his allure to, other than Krishna, the darkly beautiful god.
She didn’t stop him when his head lowered, and she didn’t call a halt when his lips touched hers not even when he gave her plenty of time to do so, making his intentions clear.
She recognized this feeling as desire; understood that she wanted this to happen.
She really ought to stop his presumptuousness, but…
she was curious to know if the secrets she heard, spoken in whispers behind cupped hands and closed doors, were true.
Wanted to know if the intense feelings he brought out in her translated into the physical.
And then stopped thinking altogether, so immersed in the experience.
The first touch was merely a featherlight brush of his lips against hers, his rough jaw scraping her delicate skin.
This was nice, thought Chandra, feeling a slight disappointment. But was this all? Perhaps it was because she had built up expectations that this felt a little underwhelming. But nice, nonetheless.
As if he knew her thoughts, he smiled against her lips and pressed his mouth more firmly against hers. His tongue peeked out to trace her lips, lingering at the corner of her mouth where a million nerve endings flared to life.
Oh.
Goose bumps freckled her skin and she gasped at the sudden sensations.
His tongue swept into her mouth, exploring the inside, dueling with her own.
He tasted mint and smelled of pine, and she knew she would forever associate those scents with him.
His teeth caught her lower lip and bit gently into the softness, immediately soothing the small hurt with his tongue.
She speared a hand into his hair to hold him to her, and he obliged her demand and deepened their kiss. How was it that he was touching no other part of her body except her mouth, and she felt ready to combust from desire?
A temple bell tolled in the distance, bringing reality rushing back and she pushed at his shoulders, breaking the kiss.
He let her go, and she scrambled off his lap and took several steps away from him for good measure.
Her heart still thundered, and she felt the warmth of a blush on her cheeks.
They were kissing in a public place where anyone could’ve walked by. She glanced around furtively.
“Don’t worry, Princess. Everyone is probably enjoying the play at the temple,” said Veer, intuiting her thoughts. His eyes reflected a jubilant satisfaction as he lifted a finger to his own lips, as if recalling the intimacy of their kiss. She stared at his finger and felt the blush flare hotter.
“Aren’t you going to rebuke me for breaking your vow of not touching you until you give permission?” he asked, brows raised.
Chandra wished she could wipe the smug look off his face. But honesty compelled her to admit that he wasn’t at fault.
“You didn’t break any promises. I…I wished for it.”
Incredulity, and some other difficult-to-discern emotion, lit his eyes. Something she suspected was triumph. “You are honest to a fault, Princess,” he said as he got up lazily and stretched, the play of long muscles on his torso drawing her eye, making heat rush into her face once again.
He was doing this deliberately, if the look in his eye was anything to go by. She didn’t have the experience to hide her reactions, and he took advantage of that to make her acknowledge her weakness. This was nothing more than a game to him.
Chandra watched warily as he came closer. She wanted to flee, to leave this man’s disturbing presence, but she made herself stand her ground.
What kind of woman was she, that she was all right with kissing a man who professed to hate her? Where was her self-respect?
“That was too short for my satisfaction, Princess,” he said, reaching for her hand and placing the anklet in her palm. “The next time we do this, I’ll make sure we aren’t disturbed for a long time.”
“There won’t be a next time.” She curled her fingers into a fist around the anklet, wanting to stomp her foot, but stopped herself with difficulty, knowing how childish it would look.
“Are you sure about that?”
Chandra grew frustrated. He seemed to reduce their encounters to satisfying a physical need while she wanted so much more. “I want to be seen as a person, not a possession to be attained. It’s why I made you promise me those vows.”
“What does that have to do with plain old lust? I’ve wanted you since the day I saw you, Chandra, and that hasn’t changed.”
“And love, respect, trust…none of these matter to you?”
“Not for what I’ve in mind for you,” he said, his words flippant.
It was those words that strengthened her resolve to keep him at a distance.
That showed her plainly how little he thought of their relationship.
Admittedly, they didn’t have a conventional marriage.
Lies, deceit, and broken promises lay between them like hurdles.
But his words made a mockery of the tangle of emotions she felt toward him, reducing them to simple base impulses.
She was aware that she needed to gather the courage to lay the past all out in the open. Or reconcile to the fact that this was all their relationship could hope to be.