Page 113

“Then that’s also your answer for where you can start in Nawanagar.

Our crest, the institutions we own, fund, power.

Bring it all under one banner. Think, do whatever you feel is best to make Nawanagar a name that resonates across the country.

We have cricket stars, we have polo stars, we drill oil, we have wildlife sanctuaries and lions.

We have lakes and the best winter food in all of Gujarat.

The scope is endless. Do it. Take it up.

Not immediately, of course. Take your time, enjoy life.

You and Samarth need to take a holiday. He hasn’t had a chance to ‘even sit quietly with you’ apparently,” she rolled her eyes, reaching for her glasses.

“Oh my god, he told you that?!”

Rajmata laughed — “And a little more. He is desperate to escape with you.”

“I know. But Brahmi feels a little out of sorts.”

“I sensed that last night. It’s all new. And insecurity is bound to crop up among people who feel foreign to you…” she trailed with a smile.

“You must have felt it too,” Avantika opened the forbidden topic. “When you came to Nawanagar for the first time.”

“A little,” she nodded. “It took time. I wasn’t ready for a life, a family, a responsibility this grand.

I was scared. That fear carried into a lot of my decisions.

Some echoes from my past added to it. But I learnt from Siddharth that you have to bear the storm quietly, not lash out. You have to let it pass.”

“Samarth used to say something similar in school.”

Rajmata shrugged — “He is a faster learner than I ever was.”

“He also adores you.”

Her face lit up. Not her mouth or her cheeks, but her eyes. She was a beautiful woman, with the grace of a dancer in her features. Now that Avantika saw her without the filter of years of anger, she could see how glorious Rajmata looked in those smiles that emanated right from her eyes.

“If he belongs to someone,” Rajmata said solemnly. “He never lets go.”

Avantika could not agree more. She had never seen a man as loyal as her husband.

That loyalty was unwavering, sometimes to his detriment.

But it always left him walking on the right path.

And his firm belief in his Dwarkadhish had seen him through to the end.

Not only to a kingdom that was his rightful legacy but also to a mother he had never dared wish for.

A set of parents, a normal family — one that she knew he had always craved in the way he would listen to her talk about hers.

“It’s alright, Ava,” Rajmata’s warm hand covered hers on the table. “Don’t worry about what you can do for Nawanagar. Start getting to know it and everything will automatically fall into place. They will make a niche for you.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

For making Samarth yours. For sending him to me. For loving Brahmi.

“For everything.”

“You’re most welcome.”

“Maarani?” Hira ben called out. “Maarani?”

“She is calling you,” Rajmata made her snap out of her haze.

“Huh? Oh. Yes, Hira ben?”

“Rawal requests your presence in his office.”

“Office? Sure.”

————————————————————

She knocked on his door. It was thick wood. She had no idea how he would be able to hear her. Unlike the heavily guarded corridors in all other parts of the palace, this wing was relatively empty. Its entrance itself was the tightest, with frisking and detailed checking for outsiders.

“Come in.”

Avantika pushed the door open and found Samarth sitting behind his desk.

He looked like… nothing she had ever seen.

She had seen a student, a polo player, a dorky lover-boy, a man on his knees asking for her forgiveness.

Not a king like this — shirtsleeves rolled up, a desk full of work, on a chair that looked larger than life even with his large frame on it.

“Why are you standing there?” He got to his feet.

“Oh, nothing,” she walked in and closed the door behind her. “Hira ben said you needed me?”

“Hmm, come here.”

He was solemn, all the playfulness of this morning gone. She frowned, making her way down his massive office and around his table. Samarth pulled open the drawer on the side of his desk and plucked a key. He held it up to her — “This is the key to Nawanagar’s safe,” he showed her.

“O… kay?”

“It is located inside the floor, here,” he pointed under the table. “Come.” He took her hand and kneeled with her. Avantika stared in wonderment as he opened an invisible flap in the seamless flooring, outlining the marking to look for the edge.

“Inside, here,” he pointed to a safe that lit up automatically. “This safe will only open with this key, one of the configured fingerprints and a password. Right now Papa’s, mine and Rajmata’s prints are registered and only we know the password. Give me your right hand.”

“What? You are adding my fingerprint to it?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t be serious! We just got married.”

“Give me your hand, Ava,” he grabbed her hand and tugged her down until her thumb was pressed on the reader.

It beeped and Samarth punched in a password on the keypad.

He scanned her fingerprint again, it beeped, and he punched in the numbers again.

It went on for two more rounds and finally, a different beep sounded.

“Alright, here’s the password — 7B8E9A. For the alphabets, use the guide of letters under each number. If you ever saw those old Nokia phones, it’s like that.”

“Oh… like press number 1 two times to get B?”

“Exactly. Here,” he fed in the digits and she observed. The safe beeped this time and a loud noise alert sounded. Samarth turned the lever and pulled it open.

She wasn’t as stupid as to expect some treasure chest inside it but the items in there were grossly underwhelming. A carved wooden box atop some papers. He picked up the box and set it out on the floor between them.

“This box contains the Raj Sinh Mohar of Nawanagar. Our seal. The one who possesses this and the deed papers has the first claim to the throne of Nawanagar.”

He held up a small gold seal. She took it in her palm and instantly tightened her grip. It was heavy.

“There are also our scriptures and family tree dating back 800 years,” he showed her, the papers well-maintained even if they were yellowed with age and falling apart at the edges.

“Why are you showing me all this?”

“If ever a time comes when Brahmi must inherit, get these and declare her the next queen of Nawanagar. The bill will get passed in a few months…”

“Wait, you mean… if something happens to you?”

“Yes.”

“You know we got married yesterday, right?”

“What’s that got to do with this?”

“I won’t kill you so soon.”

He laughed.

“Alright, you got the gist. What’s the password?” He began to pack everything up and restore the objects inside the safe.

“7B something A… why is it so complicated? Couldn't it be Sharan’s mosquito’s birthday or something?”

“It’s not complicated.” Samarth thrust the safe door shut, closed the flap in the floor and got to his feet. “It’s the three classes we were together in school. 7th B, 8th E, 9th A.”

She stilled, halfway up. He took her hands and pulled her the rest of the way.

“What?” His knuckles stroked her cheek.

“Tell me you changed this password today to impress me.”

He smirked, that ‘one eyebrow and one side of the mouth raised’ smirk. Her face fell into his chest, shaking — “You can’t do this to me!”

“Do what?”

“Eat sev on poha every day for eight years, have this stupid password, keep my brooch and all!”

“And you can keep my daughter? That’s fair game?”

Her eyes teared up.

“Are you crying?” He pulled her back. “Raje?” Samarth held her chin, wiping the tears she didn’t know had trickled down her cheeks.

“Nothing can happen to you. Ever. That’s one,” she ordered through her choked throat.

“Noted.”

“And… stop being this… goody-goody.”

“I came with this setting.”

“Pfft!” She rolled her teary eyes. He pulled her into his chest, rubbing her back. Her arms went around him, her hands fisting in the cotton of his shirt. “Shhh,” Samarth pressed his mouth into the top of her head, suffusing her with the discovery of more joy. She cried even more.

“Ava,” he warned.

“I’m good, I’m good.” She rubbed her cheek on his shirt.

“Then wipe your tears and get ready for court. My bench is waiting for my bench partner.”

She pulled out and glared at him — “Don’t sulk if I don’t give you the window seat this time.”

“I won’t if you don’t talk to the walls.”

She burst out laughing. And again her tears began to flow. He kept wiping them off, amused — “We married yesterday and you are crying today. What am I doing wrong?”

“I am also laughing. You are not as bright as they think you are,” she pushed her face into his hands that were cleaning it for her.

“It’s like monsoon in Badrinath,” he kissed her moist cheek, then the corner of her lips, where she assumed he had found those pops of dimples he loved.

“The sun shining bright,” Samarth declared, “while the clouds continue to drizzle. The most beautiful scenery of all.”

The sobs she had settled with this sparring erupted with a vengeance and she went on tiptoes, embracing him. His body curved over hers, squeezing her tight. He laughed, she laughed and cried, and her hiccups melded into wheezes. Their bellies shook and their bodies tightened into one another.

“I promise it will be like this, Raje.” His murmur sounded in her ear.

“You and your promises,” she snorted, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. He made space for her.

Joy.

This discovery of joy.

She knew now it was nowhere close to ending. With Samarth Sinh Solanki, it was an ongoing, evolving process. And now, thank god, eternal too.