The Enemy's Daughter

Chapter Twenty

 The ramparts of the fort at Reshamgarh came into view as Priyadarshini peeked out of the palanquin. She glanced at the black stallion trotting alongside her, the rider sitting on the saddle straight-backed and regal.

"Just a few more miles, my lady. Have patience for a while," Harshvardhan remarked with a grin as he saw her peeking out.

It was still a matter of wonder for her, how easily he had agreed to let her accompany him to her father's house. She had been ready for an argument, but he had disarmed her with a kiss planted on her lips. She had kissed him back with equal fervor, her fingers buried in his raven locks. "For a kiss like that, I will even agree to be a willing slave to you, my Princess," he had whispered in her ear. "Taking you to your cousin's wedding is a small price to pay for it, my love." Now, she nodded at his words, letting the curtain fall back, and leaned against the pillows with a sigh. What would she find, once there, she mused.

The guards heralded the gates of the palace ahead and Priyadarshini found her heart pounding with joy at the prospect of meeting her father. At least, this time she would not have to lie to him about her happiness, for she was happy after a fashion. For the first time since her marriage, she was content with her life. It could have been much worse. She knew that not every man would be as tender a lover as her husband. She had heard terrifying tales from Lalita about men who gave nary a care for their wives' sensitivities, snatching what they wanted forcefully, whereas Harshvardhan was always thoughtful about her pleasures, even before his own. Yes, she could say that she was truly happy.

*****

"Don't cry, Roopmati. I know how you feel, but believe me, it is not the end of the world." Priyadarshini consoled her cousin.

Wiping the tears from her rounded rosy cheeks, the girl withdrew from her embrace. "...But I can't live without Sumer. What will he think of me, I wonder...." her voice shook with emotion.

"He will think nothing amiss, my dear. He knows that you are a princess and as such you have obligations. Wasn't I married off for a treaty? But look how happy I am now...."

The girl's sobs subsided a little and she went to stand in front of the open window, gazing out with unseeing eyes. Priyadarshini noted the way her shoulders were slumped in dejection and shook her head in regret. She knew very well that nothing she said would bring any comfort to her cousin who was pining for her lover and apprehensive of the coming union. At least, her intended groom, Chandra Dev, was a man of honor and reputed to be an amicable fellow. The ruler of a small principality, he would take good care of Roopmati, of this she was sure.

*****

The grand hall was decorated to the rafters with garlands and streamers. Lamps burned with shining light, driving away the gloominess of an overcast evening. The bride's brothers were welcoming the guests who arrived from neighboring kingdoms, by sprinkling rosewater on them and applying vermilion on the forehead of the invitees. Colorful headdresses vied with silken attires and sparkling gems.

Harshvardhan glanced around him, his gaze eagerly searching for his wife in the melee of bodies. He had left her in her chamber about an hour ago, replete from an afternoon of torrid lovemaking. His lips twisted in a smile of their own accord as he recalled the manner in which their bodies had synchronized to give each other unimaginable pleasure. Where was his Princess? He was already missing her lively presence.

From the corner of his eye, he espied her entering the hall with another man by her side. He knew the man well. It was Sumer Singh, the commander of the forces, dapper in his crisp tunic and headdress, his face handsome with bright, intelligent eyes and a well-kept mustache, a ceremonial sword dangling from his waistband. The man was deep in a conversation with her, then after a moment, nodding his head, he walked out of the hall, leaving his wife to amble towards him.