Falling in love with Vikram was as easy and natural as drawing breath, but what aboutstayingin love? What if ruling a country together changed them… what if the things that had once made them smile now made them scowl? And worse, how could she bear it if she saw that it was not time or circumstance that had made his heart falter, buther?
But she would have to. She would haul back his soul to the light even if she knew that she trailed her own devastation in its wake.
Gauri steeled herself. She needed a distraction, and so she turned to the horse:
“I never thought to ask if you have a name. Do you?”
The horse stamped its foot. “I am called Kamala.”
“…lotus?”
It tossed its mane. “A beautiful name for a beautifulme.”
“Well—”
“And I chose my name myself,” said the horse proudly. “Snatched it off a dead woman’s tongue. Her blood tasted like apples. Tasty, tasty name. Tasty, tasty blood.”
It smacked its lips.
“And your bridegroom?” asked the horse. “What is his name?”
“Vikram,” said Gauri. She hated how her voice shook when she said it. She hadn’t spoken it for a whole day and the echo of it sat thickly in her throat. “It means wise.”
He used to tease her about it all the time.Gauri, my very name encompasses all that I am. So trust me when I say that I should decide on this week’s desserts. I’ll be very judicious. I’ll only help myself to a full serving of my own and then maybe half of yours too.Her chest tightened.
“And yours, little bone?” asked the horse.
“My name means gold.”
PRESENT
“That’s what your name means too, Dadi-Ma!” said Hira happily.
Her grandmother bowed her head in acknowledgement. “I know.”
“And my name means diamond,” said Hira, lifting her chin. “Which is a lot better than cloud.”
Which was the meaning of Meghana’s name.
Her grandmother laughed, and then cupped Hira’s cheek. The cold crystal of her palm felt soothing in the day’s heat. Hira leaned against it and breathed deeply.
“A precious name for my precious girl,” said her grandmother.
“Is it bad that I like the horse? She makes me giggle.”
“It is not bad,” she reassured Hira, leaning close. “Even I like the horse.”
SECOND BLUSH
It was not hard for Gauri to find Vikram’s name in that grove of forget. It called to her. His name dangled playfully from its iron branch. First, it flashed silver, and then it transformed, turning pale, losing its sheen, before stretching into Vikram’s favorite object in the world:
A scroll.
But there was no writing on the enchanted scroll. Gauri did not know whether to bring the name to her ears or hold it to her heart, but the moment she touched it, the paper shuddered. Words bled across the page. The words looked like no language that Gauri had ever seen. This was a calligraphy that did not belong in any earthly realm because it was destiny crimped into letters. The words shifted, living and supple as skin, and Gauri understood thatthisis what the horse had meant when it declared that the names did not show a destiny. It was like fate flexing a new muscle. A suggestion. A path.A peek of what might happen should the bearer of the name return to the land of the living.
She did not read the words so much as she lived them.
They snuck into her mind, spreading across her vision:
