He held up his hand as Chandra opened her mouth. “And that’s all I’ll say on this subject.”
“Where are you going?” asked Chandra when Veer stood up and walked into the trees.
“Away. From you,” he answered shortly.
Chapter 41: Choices
Chandra lay on the floor of the temple by the lake and watched the patches of velvety night sky through the canopy of leaves that stretched above. A crescent moon was riding the skies somewhere out of sight behind the trees.
A simple cloth spread on the stone floor served as her bed tonight, since they had lost most of their possessions.
The temple was tiny and open to the elements with simple square pillars supporting the ceiling. Except one wall, where the goddess statue was placed in a small alcove.
A cool breeze came in from the serene lake, trying to dry the tears on her cheek. She had given up on brushing them away. She sniffed instead, hoping her crying jag wouldn’t wake him.
Veer slept only a few feet away, his back to her. A familiar anger rose. The autocratic man had refused to give her privacy so she could cry in peace. He hadn’t left for long before returning.
“This is a strange forest, Chandra,” he had said, clearing the ground of leaves, preparing to lie down. “You’re going to sleep right beside me, where I can keep an eye. I don’t want to wake up and discover that you have been spirited away by some strange yaksha.”
His argument had merit, and she hated him for it. But was it too much to ask to be allowed to lick her wounds in private?
The carvings on the pillar she tried to sleep against dug into her back, and she shifted her position, idly watching the quicksilver movements of the fireflies as they flitted about in the air. Her mind was far away.
He hadn’t believed her!
The secret she had been carrying for seven years—for which she defied everyone, broke her vows and lied to him, and endured the pain and humiliation of her punishment—none of it meant anything to him.
By not believing her, he had cheapened her actions.
To her horror, instead of going away, the tears increased, and she was shocked to hear a loud gasp escape her mouth. She put a hand to muffle the sound.
With dismay, she realized he was moving. She prayed he was only adjusting his position. He had to be just as uncomfortable sleeping on the hard ground.
He had offered the only cloth they had to her, not that it was much comfort. She fisted it in her hand, hoping the sobs would go away.
She told herself it was the relief from carrying the burden of truth all these years.
And it was. But not entirely.
She could finally reveal to her parents what had happened that night. Chandra knew they would be angry at her, but they would forgive her. Eventually. And she would have her family back, talking to her again. Her mother could happily live with her father again. This was what was important to her. Not the opinion of a prince she had married under duress and wasn’t even sure what she felt for him.
He was a hard man; she knew that when she had resigned herself to their marriage. But she had seen some hints during their brief encounter before marriage that it wasn’t all he was.It had given her hope that maybe they could find some common ground.
He radiated violence and danger, had only a passing acquaintance with conscience, and continued to care very little about the customs and feelings of people. Chandra recalled how he broke the wall of murals in the caves of Amaravathi and had no qualms about stealing a statue from a holy city.
And yet…he was a commander of his men, and he cared for the people under him, often putting his own life at risk before them. He was willing to put aside his personal grievances to work with her, a person he hated, agreeing to her conditions because his kingdom needed her help.
Granted, he didn’t have much of a choice, but he could have easily chosen not to honor the word given to a woman, like many men of his position often did.
Despite not believing her story about the past, he promised Kalpana’s and Sarun’s safety and was furious that she thought him heartless enough to punish a mother and her son.
The things he did at the temple city—fighting against the intruders, opening the temple to everyone, and organizing help to arrive from a nearby fort—all those actions were not of a man who cared for nothing and no one.
Why did he have to challenge her preconceived notions of him? Why did he have to make it so hard for her to just hate him?
If she did, none of this would be affecting her as much.
For, no matter how many times she told herself, his good opinion had come to mean something to her.
