“I suppose you’re right, Your Majesty,” said the courtier. “However… I do believe that even without magic, they would have changed their mind. I’ve read your reports in the past, and you always provided the most creative solutions.”
Vikram looked at the courtier a little more closely. “What’s your name?”
“Chandresh.”
“And who are you?”
Chandresh mulled over his response. “I was a fool of the highest pedigree before Your Majesty’s return. I am the courtier who sleeps through most meetings. I’m also the courtier who provides the best feedback. I closely read the meeting’s notes after.”
Vikram grinned. “Intriguing. I would be interested in speaking to you after the meeting. Or your nap, as it were.”
“I would be honored, Your Majesty.”
The courtier bowed at the hip, and left him in the hall. Vikram watched him go, and a cautious happiness flooded him. Perhaps he was on his way to forging alliances within the empire. He was still learning how to navigate his way through politics now that the novelty of Kubera’s gifts had worn off. The realm still murmured about the Otherworldly games where he had disappeared to for a month, but it was mostly rumor. Most believed he had returned to the ashram and observed the strictest of penances in order to succeed to the throne. Only the council—six men, half of whom wore the shadow of death and the other half of whom were so skilled in lying that not even their wives believed them—had seen his magical demonstration. Their word was the only one that counted. Once he had won their allegiance—or frightened it out of them, more like—he hadn’t seen the need to continue impressing people with the enchanted document. The only thing he found indispensable was Biju. Conversations were far more efficient when lying was impossible.
Vikram stopped in front of the Menagerie and knocked twice. “Father?”
A growl echoed inside the room. “Come in!”
Vikram stepped through and quickly shut the door. The leopard, Urvashi, kept pushing her head against the wooden frame.
“I was thinking I might let her roam around the palace,” said Pururavas, waddling to the door. “She’s become so restless.”
“Roam around the palace?”
“With a leash.”
“With an armed guard.”
Pururavas gasped. “Do you think someone would try to hurt her?”
Vikram stared. “Father, I think sometimes you are too innocent.”
“But that is a yes to letting her roam?” said his father. “That decision falls to you.”
“I’ll consider it.” Urvashi glared at him reproachfully. “Perhaps we could make her a new courtyard. Put things she can jump off of. She does have a tendency to climb.” He pointed at the tables that had been stacked upon one another as a perch for the leopard.
Pururavas nodded approvingly. “I’m glad you thought to visit. There’s something I wanted to discuss with you.”
Vikram braced himself. He knew that his father’s question could only be about one of two things… either Gauri or his marriage prospects.
“You fled with the Princess.”
One out of two.
“I did. And she’s not a princess anymore. She’s the Queen of Bharata.”
When he spoke the last words, pride glowed in his voice. He couldn’t help it.
“And she was with you during this… tournament.”
Pururavas couldn’t make himself say any words about magic even though he had seen the wonders Vikram brought home.
“Yes, she was,” said Vikram. And then his eyes narrowed. “You haven’t been talking about this to anyone, have you, Father? Only you know she was with me.”
“Of course not!” huffed Puru. “But since you’ve returned, Bharata has withdrawn their remaining military units from our borders. The letter from General Arjun came in only recently. We have done the same. I believe now it’s just a matter of formalizing relations. The messengers we sent responded favorably. And the Bharata messengers sent to Ujijain have been nothing short of cordial. They even sent a gift last time, albeit a curious one.”
Vikram bit down his grin. The gift had been a wooden crown with a small note: “for your entertainment.” Some of his council had been inclined to believe that it was an insult, but Vikram understood.
