Veer released her abruptly. She moved away as far as she could get from him and massaged her wrists, eyes lowered.
What she just said was true, and it was something only a person who had experienced that sort of mind control would know.
In all his life, he had met only one person who had that ability, and he was dead. Veer felt strange, like he was at the edge of a precipice, looking down at an endless fall. “Who was this person, Princess?” he asked softly.
“If you are asking me that question, then you already suspect the answer,” she said curtly.
“Virat used his powers on you? I refuse to believe that. He couldn’t have done that. Not without me knowing about it. His magic is such a taboo thing we took measures to hide it. To make sure he didn’t use it inadvertently or recklessly. You’re lying.”
“I don’t care,” said Chandra. “You’ll always choose to believe what’s convenient for you to believe, anyway!”
A beat of silence registered as he went over her words. “What’s that supposed to mean, Princess?” he asked quietly.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done. All I want is to finish this quest and get my requests fulfilled. I neither need nor want anything else from you.”
She walked away from him and crouched by the tiger. “Release him. He’ll not harm you. I’ve known him since he was a cub.”
Veer read the truth of that statement in the tiger’s brain and retreated his control.
He stared at her hands as she ran it through the tiger’s fur. Purple bruises were already forming around her wrists. Veer felt vaguely unsatisfied with their encounter, despite getting what he wanted.
There were secrets surrounding the princess, and his gut told him he wouldn’t like them.
There were many times since their marriage that Veer wished he’d made any other choice than Chandrasena. But Veer was stubborn and once he’d made his decision, he stuck to it till the bitter end.
After all these years trying to suppress the memories of his past, Veer found he couldn’t hold them back; not now when he was in this cursed place again.
He still remembered the day he had decided on an ill-advised, hasty plan to meet the princesses of Amaravathi, an incident that her father, King Chandraketu, himself was partially responsiblefor.
* * *
Veer wasn’t supposed to meet them in person. It was forbidden for unmarried women to be seen that way, especially if they were royalty. A stupid superstition that caused complicated procedures, thought Veer, thankful that Rajgarh didn’t have such stringent practices.
The emissaries on both sides had scratched their heads, trying to circumvent this particular custom, since King Bheesmala had insisted that his son at least know who he’d be marrying. It was finally decided that Amaravathi would provide the portraits of the seven princesses instead, so Veer could make his choice.
And yet, the ones that were delivered to him were a blackened mess, deliberately burned to obscure the features.
Veer was in no hurry to name his choice, but he couldn’t let Amaravathi’s king get away with such a gross insult. He had stared at the burned portraits for a long time, grinding his teeth while his friends tried to commiserate with his fate.
“Cheer up,” said Virat, slapping Veer on the back. “I’ve heard that they’re all very beautiful. You could roll a dice and pick someone by their birth order.”
“They could be as pretty as one of the divine nymphs or ugly as a sow, and I still would feel no different.” Veer scowled, picking up the soot from one of the portraits and rubbing it between his fingers. The smell of camphor oil told him exactly how they managed to burn them in strategic spots.
“I can certainly see why your father wants this alliance, Veer,” said Shota. “This war has already lasted longer than we predicted. A lot of people in the army are home sick.”
“If that’s supposed to make me feel better, you’re not helping at all.” Veer tried in vain to wipe the soot from his fingers on a pristine cloth, but the stubborn stain seemed to have seeped into the upper layers of his skin
“I’m not your nursemaid or your personal courtesan to lift your mood. I’m just pointing out the many advantages—” said Shota, sounding a little miffed.
“Forget Shota, Veer,” said Virat, interrupting Shota’s monologue. “I’ve heard there’s a grove of magical trees deep in the forest, just south of here. The locals here call it the Navari Woods. I want to pay a visit. Do you want to come with me?”
“Don’t you have better things to do than that stuff, Virat?” said an annoyed Shota. “At least stop dragging Veer into it.”
“Veer can answer for himself. He doesn’t need you as his mouthpiece,” retorted Virat before turning to Veer once again. “So, what do you say? I heard there’s even a chance the seven princesses of Amaravathi may visit the place. You may get to see them in person.”
Veer regarded Virat with interest, a plan forming in his mind. “Tell me more.”
* * *
