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 somethingthat 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.
