He replied slowly,“Tooti-footi, kacchi-pakki, nakli-asli hi sahi, thodi si patni to ho na humaari, shart haari ho to poori to karni padegi hi.”“Real or fake, broken or half, you are my wife, even if just a little. Now that you’ve lost the bet, you have got to do that.” His words made my cheeks flush.
I couldn’t understand why his voice weakened my knees.
I tried to come up with a response, especially to the half-wife comment.
“Aap humaare pati nahi hain... vidh…”“You’re not my husband… I’m a wid…” I found myself speechless by the end, unable to finish.
The colourful memory of that day and the thought that he could die after marrying me echoed in my ears.
How can I be a bad omen for the person who saved my life?
“Say it,” he urged, his gaze intense, and I opened my eyes, staring back at him with equal intensity.
“This is wrong. You should act as if I’m dead,” I spoke helplessly.“Please, I know you’re just teasing me, but don’t do this.”
He inhaled deeply. There was a calculated pause between us, and he nodded slowly.
“Fine,” he said.“But even if you weren’t my half-wife and had lost a bet, I would still ask you to keep your promise. I’m committed to my bets.”
“But I didn’t agree.”
I noticed an attendant approaching us; I immediately pushed him aside and kept walking.
“You did,” he said, trailing behind me.
He seemed truly happy for the first time since the incident. Yet, his presence made me feel uneasy.
I averted my gaze and observed him as he twirled his dagger.
“Waise agar sabko pata hota to tumhe humaari bhateeji Kaaki-sa pukaarti ya Maasi-maa?”“Let’s say if everyone knew about us, what would my niece call you, Kaaki-sa orMaasi-maa?” he inquired, his lips curling into a teasing smile.
I clenched my jaw.“My dead husband has five children, and I’m technically their mother, so what would they call you? Father?” I countered, and he turned to me with annoyance, making me smile.
“Shut up,” he whispered; a victorious smile etched on my face as we walked into the kitchen together.
As soon as we stepped through the door, we became strangers again.
I noticed him reverting to a serious demeanour. He asked everyone to pay attention before lecturing them about the sweets they needed to prepare. It was early morning, and no one had gotten any rest, not even for a moment. It felt like a festival in the palace.
“Suno,”“Listen,” he called, as always.
I didn’t know why, but I thought of him every time I heard anyone saying‘Suno’.
“Ji,” I replied, watching him animatedly count on his fingers.
“Eight hundred tons of gram flour for laddoos25?” he asked, furrowing his brows.
I lowered my gaze, recalling that during Ranaji’s coronation ceremony, we had ordered two hundred tons of gram flour to accommodate all the kingdoms. This time, the feast would encompass six times as many people as the last: all the villages and kingdoms across southern Indira.
“We will invite one hundred and nine villages, so I think we should plan for one thousand five hundred tons,” I suggested.
He had it jotted down with the help of an assistant.
“And dried fruits?” he asked, and I calculated the amount of dried fruits while assisting him with the details.
“Ten tons of cardamom, one hundred and fifty tons of almonds, one hundred and fifty tons of cashews…” I said, and he widened his eyes at me when I finished.
“I thought laddoos looked smaller,” he remarked, making me chuckle softly. I shook my head.
