CHAPTER 23
The wedding event was thankfully pushed to the evening time, giving her time to catch up on sleep.
She was knocked out for the entire day. She got up only when she was woken up by a group of women to dress her for the ceremony.
She was led to the bathroom and they bathed her in water infused with flower petals and sacred herbs that made her skin tingle with their potency.
They offered her a warm liquid that tingled her inside.
There was soft chanting of the island’s women as they worked on getting her ready.
The dressing ritual took hours. They layered her in silk of various colors, deep ocean blues that shifted to green in the light, gold like the sun setting over the lagoon, and coral pink that matched the reefs around the island.
The soft fabric felt alive against her skin, woven with threads that caught every ray of light. Her hair was braided with jasmine and small shells, while intricate patterns were painted on her hands and feet with a red liquid.
The jewelry was unlike anything she had seen.
It was not the polished gold she was familiar with, but pieces that seemed to grow from the sea itself.
Pearls cascaded down her chest, while bracelets of twisted silver and coral adorned her wrists.
The headpiece was the most extraordinary.
A delicate tiara of silver branches that mimicked the reefs, set with stones that captured the light like the ocean.
Throughout the preparation, she felt calm, somewhere suspended between dream and reality.
The island women spoke in hushed tones about the significance of each element, how the colors honored the sea goddess, how the patterns would protect her new marriage, how the pearls would bring fertility and wisdom.
She absorbed it all like a sponge, her mind struggling to process the magnitude of what was happening and somewhere feeling guilty about the charade.
This is the right thing to do, she thought to herself.
The women continued to sing what seemed to be the ritualistic melody even as they escorted out of her room.
They led her along a path scattered with flower petals to the sacred grove where the ceremony would take place.
The trees formed a natural cathedral, their branches draped with garlands of island flowers, while the ground beneath was carpeted with woven mats in intricate geometric patterns.
As she approached, the sound hit her like a wave.
Hundreds of voices raised in harmonious celebration, the ancient wedding songs of the islands echoing through the grove.
Music seemed to come from everywhere at once.
The drums that were carved from palm wood beating in complex rhythms that matched the beat of the ocean.
The wooden flutes created melodies that soared like birds, and stringed instruments she couldn’t name produced sounds that seemed to capture the very essence of the wind.
She gasped at the sight that greeted her.
The entire community had gathered there and not just his extended family, but every soul from the surrounding islands.
Fishermen stood beside their boats pulled up on the beach, their weathered faces bright with celebration.
Children perched in the lower branches of trees, eyes wide with wonder.
Elder women sat in places of honor, their silver hair adorned with flowers, their voices joining the ancient chants to bless the union.
The chieftain’s family occupied a special section near the ceremonial circle, and she could see his mother beaming with pride, his father standing tall with the dignity of his position.
But it was his sisters who truly took her breath away.
Aravinda, the elder sister who had been so watchful and suspicious, was transformed.
She was draped in silk the color of sunset, with gold jewelry that caught the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.
Her hair was woven with strings of tiny white flowers that cascaded over one shoulder, and intricate henna patterns climbed her arms like delicate vines.
Despite her previous reservations, there was something in her eyes now that looked almost like pride, or perhaps acceptance.
Amuktha looked dazzling in a baby pink outfit and Sasikala looked radiant beside her, wearing vibrant turquoise silk that brought out the warmth in her skin.
She had opted for a more playful style, with small bells woven into her hair that chimed softly when she moved, and silver anklets that caught the light as she swayed to the music.
Their smiles were brilliant and unguarded, and they kept stealing glances at the bride with obvious delight.
The three sisters wore their family’s traditional jewelry.
The pieces that had been passed down through generations of the chieftain’s daughters.
Heavy silver necklaces with pendants that told stories of the sea, earrings that moved like water when they turned their heads, and bangles that sang a soft metallic song with every gesture.
They looked like island goddesses themselves, embodying the beauty and grace of their ancestral home.
The musicians, positioned throughout the grove, created layers of sound that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the island itself.
Young men with drums slung across their shoulders moved in time with the rhythm, while little girls in flowing skirts swayed as they played small bells that chimed like wind chimes in the breeze.
The music wasn’t just accompaniment but it felt like the voice of the community, welcoming her into their midst.
The sound of rhythmic splashing reached her ears first, followed by the deep voices of men calling out in unison as they rowed.
From her position on the decorated path overlooking the water, she could see the traditionally decorated boats approaching with the sun behind them, its carved prow cutting past the rough surface of the ocean.
She knew the ceremony was more for the family and the island community to accept the marriage. Especially since Ashok has agreed to be the future Chieftain. Her heart was not supposed to be involved but now she was invested for the sake of the twins. They would be in the next best place
But as she adjusted her position to get a better view, her blood turned to ice.
There were others she had not registered as she was only looking at the family.
On paths flanking hers, she caught glimpses of silk and gold, the flash of jewelry catching the evening light.
Other women. Other brides. All dressed in bridal finery that rivaled her own, beautiful outfits like hers, their hands painted with the same intricate patterns, their hair adorned with the same jasmine flowers and shells.
Each one beautiful, poised, waiting.
The realization hit her like a physical blow. This wasn’t just their wedding, but a selection. A competition. She had only heard about this in mythological stories and no one warned her about it.
Not even Ashok!
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms through the delicate fabric she was scrunching. The rational part of her mind tried to assert itself.
Why did it matter?
This was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, anyways.
She didn’t even want to be his real wife.
The very idea of marriage had suffocated her and that’s why she stayed away from it.
The women who had their eyes on the approaching group of men were beautiful, from the island.
Suited for the lifestyle and not an outsider like her.
And from what she had learnt about the island people, they were caring and loving, which meant any of the women would do a better job of being Ashok’s wife and the mother of the twins, far better than her!
So why was fury coursing through her veins like poison?
Her gaze swept to the left, where a woman in deep red silk sat with perfect posture, her beauty undeniable even from a distance.
Then to the right, where another bride waited, her jewelry catching the light like stars.
Each one a potential choice. Each one a threat to something she hadn’t even known she wanted to protect.
He’s mine.
The thought blazed through her mind with startling ferocity, and she had to bite her lip to keep from saying it aloud. The intensity of the feeling left her breathless, confused by her own reaction.
Where did this possessiveness come from?
This irrational need to stand up and shout at these beautiful strangers that they had no right to be here, no right to want what was meant to be hers?
Her chest tightened as she forced herself to look back at the approaching boats, trying to regain her composure. But the damage was done. Something primitive and fierce had awakened inside her, something that didn’t care about convenience or arrangements or rational thinking.
Yet as the boats drew closer and she caught the first glimpse of him, the jealousy warring in her chest transformed into something even more dangerous. A desire mixed with a determination she had never felt before.
Ashok was rowing ahead of the group. Even from afar, his presence commanded attention.
The other boats were his brothers-in-law, cousins and other men from the community, rowing with practiced synchronization, but her eyes could focus on no one else.
The white dhoti draped around his waist was simple, unadorned, yet it somehow made him appear more regal than any elaborate costume could have managed.