Sikander, Don't Die

chapter eight: chariot

Roshanak had never seen a chariot so golden and grand. If someone was deserving of riding the vehicle, it was the sun god Mitra. Even if not a god, perhaps the Shah believed in his holy birth like many kings, and so had chosen such an extravagant chariot for them to be in while greeting the crowd of Persia.

It was going to be her first appearance as the Shahamsaram. She heard the servants and the soldiers gossip about the bubbling excitement of the crowd. According to them, the crowd was on the brink of transforming into an uncontrollable mob. Someone by the name of Craterus, as she caught from the conversation, advised the Shah to delay the public visit. The Shah declined the idea, and sent his hazarahpatish to settle the agitated crowd. Roshanak, from behind the translucent curtains, watched envy dance in the old eyes of Craterus.

The Shah came to her once, inquiring about her health and comfort. He was adamant on knowing about her favourite fruits and dishes. She was reluctant to share, thinking it would be improper, but he insisted so much that she shared– roasted fish with spices drizzled over it, peaches and sugarcane. The Shah said with a pleased look that the fish was also a favourite of the hazarahpatish. A skinny servant later came to Roshanak and informed her that the Shah had ordered for the best peaches and the freshest sugarcane from the fields to be brought for his queen. The servants laughed merrily and called it true love.

Roshanak, even if wary of accepting, found herself admiring the little efforts of the Shah. Now when she looked back at her wedding night, he was very polite and caring. Any other man in his position could have dominated over her body in ways hideous. Perhaps the Shah was equally stuck as her, although his problems weren't visible on the surface. He was a Shah, after all, and would know how to keep things a secret.

Still, she was the Shahamsaram and had the right to know everything.

But again, in that sense, the Shah has the right to know about Kazu. Roshanak was being no different to him. They were both navigating through the complexities of life.

Not long after, she was summoned. The crowd had been subdued and the chariot was ready to be drawn by three snowy white horses. Extending his hand, the Shah said, "Come up, Roshanak. Persia is so eager to meet you."

Being hand-in-hand with the Shah felt different. There was no love, but there was no discomfort either. Instead, she felt her stomach churn in a way that caused her to avert her gaze. Her cheeks were flushed. She exhaled and relaxed when he let go of her.

"Come up."

For a moment Roshanak imagined him inviting his other wife, but his words were directed at Hridayank. The latter stiffened. "Me?"

"Yes?" The Shah was utterly confused.

"But Sikan–" Hridayank bit his lips. "But Shah, I thought I will go on a horse this time. I am not supposed to be–"

"Just shut up." Sikander rolled his eyes. "The hazarahpatish must accompany the Shah. This is usual. What happened to you suddenly?"

Hridayank clenched his fist. The Shah very well knew what this was, and yet feigned to be ignorant. "Do I need to come?"

This time, Sikander's voice had an edge. "It's an order."

Hridayank protested no further. Swallowing his hesitation, he climbed the carriage and stood on the right of the Shah.

"You shouldn't be raising a doubt against the decision of the Shah. Such audacity is not expected from the hazarahpatish," Sikander scolded.

"I am sorry, my Shah. I will be more thoughtful and disciplined."

"Better."

Roshanak could feel the palpable tension lingering around them. It affected her too. She felt ashamed of looking at the hazarahpatish, and turned her head away. Her eyes fell on three men, probably eminent generals of the Shah. They regarded her with unmasked contempt and whispered amongst themselves. Roshanak decided to just stare at the floor of the chariot.