“You still have it?” His voice twisted upward as he spoke.
“Of course. Where else would it be?”
Aru raked his hand through his midnight curls and looked at the ground. “Vishwajeet said... well, never mind. I just didn’t expect you to be wearing it.”
I brushed my fingertips over the smooth pearls, pausing to collect my thoughts and come up with an excuse about why on earth I’d be wearing such an extravagant ornament in my current state.
“This was the last gift you gave to me in Ullal?—just before our wedding.” I wanted to remind him of the time when he was giddy in love with me and was convinced that I was Spirits blessed. “Just before skies flashed green as we circled the mandap and tied ourselves to each other. Ever since then, I’ve known that my place was by your side. I’ve hated every moment we’ve spent apart, and... I guess it was silly, but I’ve worn this gajra from the moment I left so I could feel close to you while I was gone.”
Aru’s face flooded with relief. “Not silly at all.”
The barriers he’d put up evaporated. He closed the distance between us in three strides. His arms were wide open, but I held my hand out in front of him, and he stopped short.
I pushed down the memory of Thevan kissing those same fingers just yesterday. “I don’t want to get you dirty.”
Aru blinked at me as he seemed to see the dirt covering me for the first time. “What happened? Why are you in such a state?”
“Vishwajeet found me on the mountainside and insisted we come here directly.” I stayed demure as I began to chip away at his trust in his adviser. “And then the chariot ride was... not so smooth, especially with only a thin cushion on my seat. I had asked Vishwajeet for some time to make myself more presentable, but perhaps he didn’t hear me.”
Aru stared at the guards near the door with narrowed eyes. “Bring Vishwajeet to me at once.”
Two guards darted down the hall as Aru’s words bounced around the room and up to its high ceiling.
“I am truly sorry for my appearance, my raja,” I said.
“You are always a welcome sight.” Aru’s sweet smile was true.
I couldn’t help but blush. He was a coward, but he was a charming one.
“There’s the smile I’ve been longing to see.” Aru held my fingers tight with one hand and gestured around us with the other. “It’s why I had them build this. This is your palace. I’d hoped to show it to you when we last came to the beach, but then you were unwell...”
His voice trailed off as he ran his fingertips against my cheek.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “It was thoughtful of you. And far too generous.”
I hated that it was true. Not for the first time, I wished my husband’s courage matched his attentiveness, that he could see past his need for comfort to find a deeper love for his country and his people.
Aru flicked a bit of mud off one of my curls. “You must tell me what happened. Why were you on a mountain? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
I gestured to the nearby sofa, and we found a seat. Aru leaned into the soft yellow pillows, but I pushed mine to the side.
“Vishwajeet found me as I finished collecting the paarijaata blossoms on our holy mountain.” I pointed to the knotted cloth on the nearby table and silently thanked Thevan for picking the flowers while I was with Matanta.
Aru opened the knotted cloth and retrieved a wilted purple flower. Its color had faded, and the petals had become more translucent, but there was still enough purple to know this was no ordinary blossom. “Purple paarijaata. You truly are Spirits blessed?—a gift I hope you pass to our children.”
He stared at me with so much adoration that I felt a pang of guilt for manipulating him. But it had to be done. For Ullal.
“Tell me, how is our daughter?” Aru asked. He scooted closer to me and placed a hand on my knee.
“She is strong.” Just the thought of her was enough to make me light up. “Her cheeks are like laddus, her eyes shine with hazel light, and she has your nose and our curls.”
Aru’s whole face was consumed by his smile, but then his joy faltered. “But you named her after your uncle.”
“And your grandmother. Trimuladevi.” I covered his hand with mine. I’d planned for this. Even though I refused to name my daughter after her father, I’d added a name that?—rather conveniently?—ran in both our families. “It was she who told you about the purple paarijaata blossoms. I wanted to honor the woman who saved us. We even call her Devi for short.”
“Devi.” He rolled the name off his tongue. “Named after my grandmother.”
He lifted my hand and kissed it. “I have missed you. So much. I am like a ship without the wind when you are not here; how am I to know where to go?”
