Kama: Liberation (Vol-I)

Chapter 32: Anastasía

We all have monsters inside of us, some asleep and some awake.

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After the magical tricks show of Makba's guild (which the people loved to experience but found it hard to accept) the atmosphere had simultaneously become tense and lightened up. Speculations went around that many of the prostitutes from the guild had come here too, although the householders couldn't pinpoint them. Most of the times the veshyas kept their faces hidden from the crowd. However, none of them could remain unrecognised by their visitors. Surely it was a very complicated night.

Aryamna's eyes subtly noticed it all. He knew which man visited which woman from his guild. Some were, as expected, just clients who wanted to have casual fun. There was nothing entirely wrong in it as long as there remained consent. But the lover Aryamna had evolved into now appreciated eternal reciprocation, even if that meant sweltering in the heat of unrequited love forever.

"How does it feel to love a woman whom you know can never be yours?" he asked Ishvara, who was eagerly watching the smiling inhabitants of Ishgar. "You know she isn't going to be entirely yours."

Ishvara considered his words, weighing every syllable. "Do you say this because her body belongs to other men every night?"

"I do."

"Does it matter?"

"As much as I appreciate them loving her despite her profession, and if you ask me, I do wish the best for these women, but somewhere I think it's hard. You know you have her mind and soul but not her body. It is maybe mundane to the wise, yet to me, the body is a temple."

"A temple may see many pilgrims."

Ishvara's gaze still frolicked amidst the crowd, admiring the lively touch of the celebration. In her words, Aryamna found a familiarity. He had thought it was lost in the pages of buried memories. The twinkle in Ishvara's eyes said otherwise– there was hope in excavating this rare monumental princess from beneath debris of the plague and three curses. Both of them were considered as dead mortals by history. Little did the Ishgarians realise that their former rulers sat amongst them.

Aryamna quietly pondered on her words. "I am blown away by your wisdom."

She became more self-conscious. She was suddenly so much aware of the way he pierced her with his stare, his shoulders brushing against hers, and his casual attempt at leaning against her body, his arms resting around her waist. It send shivers down Ishvara's spine and her feet curled inwards. His breath smelled of wine. She couldn't look at him while she knew he was studying her.

Did she say anything wrong? Perhaps a little too bold and callous for a princess. "I didn't mean to be offensive."

"I am not even the least bit offended. Rather, I am amused." Aryamna touched his chalice to her lips, urging her to take a sip. "I wanted to say you something."

Ishvara sipped the wine. It was strangely minty in taste. "What is it?"

"I like it when you call me Aryamna instead of addressing me as Swami. Don't worry, the people won't judge you if you call me by my name."

Aryamna ran his thumb over her moist lips, wiping the drops of wine clinging to her pink skin. "Those are a little chapped. Why don't you take more care of yourself?"

Ishvara's eyes widened. She could taste the wine in his breath, feel it tingle her skin and set it on fire. Sparks sizzled on her tongue. Her body was warming up at the closeness of his face. Aryamna's curls fell over his forehead, casting wavy shadows where Ishvara knew she could escape without any worry. "I-I will be more careful from now on."