Page 75 of Scars and Crowns

"No, it avoids the question." I can practically hear him rolling his eyes. "You disappeared into a marriage with the woman you've been quietly in love with since you were practically a child, and after three weeks your official update is . . . fine."

I smile despite myself. "What exactly would satisfy you?"

"The embarrassing details."

"Samrat."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

"Those are always the interesting ones." Before I can answer, his voice softens. "How is she?"

Not the marriage. Not the palace.

Her.

I take a moment before answering. "She's . . . herself." The words don't feel complete enough. I try again. "Or at least she's trying to be." I look out through the study window into the dark gardens below. "She's changed." The admission comes quietly. "Not in the ways people notice immediately. If you met her today without knowing who she used to be, you'd think she was perfectly alright."

"But?"

"There's caution in everything she does now." I pause. "She watches every room before she walks into it. She apologises for things that don't require apologies. She asks permission before touching things that belong to her." Even saying it aloud makes something twist inside me. "And sometimes . . . " I continue slowly, " . . . she flinches."

The word hangs between us. "At what?"

"I don't know."

I think back to the bookshop. The customer. The panic that crossed her face before she'd managed to hide it.

"A stranger." Another pause. "A haircut." I close my eyes briefly. "There are pieces of her life I know nothing about."

Samrat doesn't interrupt. He never has. He lets silence do its work.

Finally he says, "You'll learn."

"I don't know how."

"You will." There's absolute certainty in his voice. "You've always been patient enough to outwait people."

A small laugh escapes me. "I think most people would call that stubborn."

"They'd be right."

He doesn't even hesitate. "I remember her, you know."

I look up. "You do?"

"Vaguely."

I hear him thinking. "Second year of college. You'd left your jacket at home." A memory surfaces. Anamika arriving at campus. Standing awkwardly outside my hostel room with my jacket folded over one arm.

"They sent her with it."

"I remember."

"She barely stayed ten minutes." He chuckles. "I also remember she wasn't impressed by either of us."

I laugh quietly. "No."