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“You should not have come there! You should not have hinted at me leaving! Or Brahmi inheriting! What the hell was that?!”

“You cannot speak to your Rajmata like that,” Siddharth roared.

“I can speak to my mother the way I want!” He snarled back. Tara staggered. She saw the moment he realised what had left his mouth and his eyes blinked, one vein in his temple throbbing.

“I am sorry…” he began to murmur.

“No you are not,” Tara countered. She glared at him, pressing him to be honest. And it was like years and years’s worth of cool courtesy between them broke. Completely.

“I am not,” he retorted, angry still but so, so dear to her.

“Come here,” she called to him, pointing to the sofa.

“That’s a dangerous sofa, you get all your work done there.”

She laughed, tears clogging her throat.

“And I have one more work to get done,” she lowered herself on the cushion she usually occupied, leaving his empty.

Siddharth’s brows knitted at her but she ignored him.

A stalemate ensued for long ticks of seconds.

Then, finally, Samarth slowly walked to the sofa, pinched the knees of his pants and sat down beside her.

“Are you my son?”

“Yes.”

“Is Brahmi my granddaughter?”

“Yes.”

“Then if you do not agree to be my heir, then she is my heir. I want you to re-introduce the Royal Family Inheritance Bill for Nawanagar.”

He glanced at her — “I really want to leave, Rajmata.”

“Do you really?”

His mouth snapped shut.

“Don’t go, Samarth. Sharan will hold nothing but field experiments in the court.”

His nose twitched through a snort, his eyes squeezing shut in a laugh she knew was all hers.

“Alright?” She held his shoulder and shook, like his father shook his head.

“Rajma…”

“Don’t go.”

“I cannot…”

“Don’t leave us.”

“It won’t be like that…”

“Don’t leave me.”

This time their gazes held. And she saw the melting of decades of conditioning in his eyes. Conditioning of time and circumstances that had shaped this boy way before her time.

“Samarth.”

He swallowed.

“I will not be making any arbitrary decisions. I planned this with Ava. I need to speak to her.”

“As you should,” Tara pressed. “But you tell me now, honestly — are you ready to stay?”

His eyelids fluttered. When they opened fully again, Tara saw something soothing, something fallen to peace there in those dark eyes.

From the first moment she had seen him, labelled ‘mature’ and ‘wise beyond his years’ and ’14 going on 40,’ Tara had identified the child hiding behind those eyes.

Maybe because a part of her innocence had also hidden behind the shield of adulthood for a long time.

It had taken her 20 years to unearth him. But he had finally come. To her.

“ Yes , Rajmata.”

Why did that word sound sweeter than Mummy?

“Forever?”

“Yes.”

“Are there any other promises from that day that I can’t recall that you will bring up twenty years later when your Papa’s ears won’t even be working right?”

“I am counting your indiscretions,” Siddharth interjected. “Both of yours.”

Samarth sighed — “I am sorry, for erupting on you like that, Rajmata…”

“It’s alright.” Tara patted his shoulder. “I pushed you to that point.”

“Samarth,” Siddharth’s kurta came into their view and she looked up, only for him to lower himself on the coffee table in front of them. His hands landed on Samarth’s biceps, his face solemn.

“Beta,” he swallowed. “See, I tried my best to raise you alone. I thought I was doing a good job. And with the man you became, I know I did a brilliant job. But the shadows that remained inside you, that I couldn’t even see…”

“Papa,” he began to push away but Siddharth pulled him back.

“You are getting married, starting a life of your own. You have a daughter. You do not deserve to go into this new chapter of your life with those shadows lingering. Moreover, Ava and Brahmi do not deserve a man who is hell-bent on repaying debts he does not owe anybody.”

“You deserved happiness,” Samarth finally admitted, his voice small.

“I got it,” Siddharth’s chin pointed to her, his eyes on their son.

“Your sacrifices have brought me a whole new life. If you hadn’t taken that oath that day, Tara would not be in our lives, Sharan would not be here.

I do not condone your actions but they happened and they led to this.

And for that, I will be eternally grateful to you.

But now, forgive yourself for a crime you never committed, Samarth.

All your debts, if any, have been squared off.

You do not owe me anything. Except for lifelong obedience for making me so sappy, because your Rajmata is going to taunt me for one whole month on all that I am saying to you. ”

His face softened into a silent laugh.

“Make that three,” Tara corrected.

“See?”

“Alright.”

“Alright?” Tara held her hands up. “Full and final? No more oaths or promises or secret dossiers to leave?”

“No… pending Ava’s agreement.”

“You’ll get that,” Siddharth slapped his bicep. “I showed her our cricket stadium. She is not going anywhere.”

“And Samarth,” Tara added. “I meant it with the Women’s Inheritance Bill. Work on it, bring it back to life.”

“You can’t be serious! Papa overturned it. It is one of his legacies…”

“And legacies are meant to be surpassed,” Siddharth nodded. “I overturned it to save Nawanagar from Indranil’s greedy hands.”

“This is unorthodox, Papa… can we even think about this? No kingdom in Gujarat has taken any concrete steps. Even Maan bhai is still going back and forth over the base draft.”

“But he has educated Ragini in the art and tact of policy just as well as Advait,” Tara pointed.

“And why do you need to look outwards for inspiration? Draw from your own Dadi Sarkar, the previous Maarani. It will be an uphill battle. A long one. The conditions will be tricky. But it is time we evolve.”

“Brahmi… isn’t it too much to put on her? She is so… soft.”

“Didn’t you tell me once that Polo is the only equestrian sport in the world where men and women can compete and play together?

If I remember correctly, you said — horses don’t bow to muscle or power or gender.

They bow to leadership. If Brahmi can hold her own in polo better than you did at that age, imagine how she will command a kingdom one day if given the right education. ”

He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.

“I need to speak to Ava.”

Siddharth got to his feet and his hand landed on his head — “That’s a good boy!”

————————————————————

Samarth touched the feet of their kuldevta and sat down in front of the line of Nav-graha deities.

Purohitji began chanting, invoking the deities to their gruh-shanti.

Mandwa-muhurat and Ganesh-sthapan had been concluded an hour ago, the palace temple and the sprawling garden outside overflowing with guests even at this warm hour of the afternoon.

“ Var-raja na mata-pita, [100] ” Purohitji pointed to either side of him.

Siddharth got to his feet and walked to Samarth’s left.

She walked to his right, to the place rightfully reserved for his mother.

Purohitji began chanting again and Tara lowered herself on the floor beside him.

Siddharth held his right hand out as Purohitji prescribed, she placed hers in his, and together they began invoking the nine planets to grace their son’s wedding.

She glanced at the boy between them — thirty-four years old, father to a daughter, King of Nawanagar. The son who ate dahi-bhaat from her hands and unleashed his frustration like a little child in front of her.

“ Have, mata-pita tareeke, Rawal ne emna nava jeevan ni saruwaat maate ashirwad aapo, [101] ” Purohitji instructed.

Siddharth’s hand landed on Samarth’s head — firm and playful as always with that shake.

Tara began to take her hand to bless his shoulder when he turned to her, hands folded, and bent bodily forward until his head was under her hand.

She laughed, patting it — twice, then once more.