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Samarth smiled — “Why would you think it will not be good? I will be able to pursue my polo and travel around the world without the pressure of being the king. My father knows how much I love polo. He will understand. He has juggled so much alone, that he would be happy to see his children divide his responsibilities.”

“And what about your children? Your family? Don’t do this to your future, Kunwar.”

Samarth couldn’t blame them. From his research, and after the blood bath that had ensued in their Devgadh’s royal family between Maan bhai, his sister and his cousin, Samarth could not blame Tara Devi’s parents for asking this question.

It was half a second. Half a second where he thought at the speed of light.

Ava. Ava. Ava. Of all that she could become to him.

Of all that he could become to her. Of all that could be.

But if his Papa remained unhappy all this life, if Nawanagar’s Rawal remained a shadow of himself, what would he do with all the happiness of the world?

“What family?” Samarth smiled, aware that he was going too far but unable to stop. “My father is my family. And with Tara Devi and their children, they will be my family.”

“Do not say this, Kunwar saheb…” Tara Devi warned. Warned. Her tone was close to that of a teacher’s. Maybe even a mother’s. His Papa wouldn’t have been so kind in issuing a warning.

“I am not one to commit anyway,” Samarth grinned, now convinced more than ever that Nawanagar needed its Maarani and Rawal needed his partner.

He could live out his life on Polo grounds.

“My rizz is limited to situationships,” he lied, knowing that the one and only relationship of his life was gone in that moment.

“My life will be me, my polo and my travel.”

“You are too young to make such decisions. Let’s call your father. I do not want to do this over your birthright.”

“Giriraj Hukum of Mewad says it is not your birthright but your duty when you are born as a royal. I am fulfilling my duty to my father and my king. Tara Devi, he is not well.”

She stilled.

“What happened to him?”

“Physically he is perfect. He does everything perfectly. Goes to court, takes meetings, works, plays cricket. But my father does not smile like he did after coming back from Antarctica. My Dada Sarkar keeps asking him and he says it’s the weather. I know now it is not.”

“Who told you about me?”

“I cannot reveal my sources,” Samarth tried his best to smirk, hoping it would look innocent.

He wanted to cry for all the songs he and Ava wouldn’t get to share, all the cricket he wouldn’t be able to watch, all the polo matches where she wouldn’t come to set his helmet.

Samarth smirked, hoping he looked not like a lovesick boy tearing his girlfriend off his chest.

Tara Devi shook her head — “No, no…”

Could she read him? Samarth panicked. If they did not agree, and Papa got to know of this, everything was gone for good. Never again would this topic be resurrected. Papa would make sure of it.

“Kaka,” he turned to her father. “Please,” he folded his hands together. “I promise you that Tara Devi will always remain fulfilled in our palace. Her children will be fulfilled. I will make it my life’s mission.”

“No!” Tara Devi snapped. “Papa, he is young, we cannot listen to this…”

“Are you questioning the word of a Solanki, Tara Devi?” Samarth turned on her, his father’s son, the Solankis' blood reverberating in his voice. She was taken aback. Samarth could see her at a loss, could see her parents on the precipice. So he decided to jump himself and have them follow. That’s what he did with Cherry.

When he was scared of leaping over a hurdle, Samarth would push his own body forward over the saddle, his way of reassuring Cherry that ‘look, I am going over it too. Now come with me.’

Samarth strode to the tray of steel glasses, poured a trickle of water in the cup of his palm and recited — “This is my oath, that I will make sure that Tara Devi and her heirs are secure and rule Nawanagar one day.”

Before anybody could stop him, he tilted his palm and released the water to the ground.

————————————————————

Samarth had won every match he had set his mind to. Had come out victorious in all exams that he had genuinely wanted to score in. His Papa had told him that he had the planets to win at life.

As the Nawanagar palace gates opened up for their car and Harsh inched it forward, Samarth didn’t feel as elated as he did after a victory.

He felt guilt for not feeling it, because his Papa was winning at life today.

But for that night, as they had driven from Devgadh to Nawanagar — Him, Harsh and Tara Devi, Samarth had allowed himself to mourn his future guilt-free.

Mourn Ava, and all that she had as well as would become to him.

Now, as the sun was coming up, he folded that grief and decided to stow it away. He felt Tara Devi sit up in the seat behind him. He noticed it then — their people, dressed in heavy sarees and dhotis, returning from the palace, pooja platters in hand. It was Holi today. How had he forgotten?

“Holika dahan’s muhurat is early morning this year,” he observed, more to himself than anybody else, nodding at the palace guards folding their hands and bowing their heads to him.

The last day of Fagun was a revelry in the palace. Everything too happy, too lively, too bright.

“So many people so early in the morning?” Tara Devi remarked.

“We burn a holi in the palace grounds. It is open for everybody to come and worship,” Samarth glanced at the dashboard clock. “Papa must have set fire to it already.”

Harsh turned the wheel of the car and brought it to a crawl.

The massive fire roared in the foreground of the pinkish sky.

People doing parikrama, pouring water from their vessels, throwing coconuts, dhani, peanuts as offerings to Agni dev…

and his Papa. His despondent, despaired Papa dressed in his traditional regalia of white angarkha and their dynasty kasumbi paagh and shawl, smiling at all the people that came to him, touching their platters as they offered him their first prasad.

Samarth now knew what a fake that smile was. Even when Giriraj Hukum, standing beside him leaned in to whisper something, a joke for sure, Papa laughed robotically.

The car stopped and Samarth pushed open his door — “Come.”

The moment his feet touched the ground, locals surrounded him. He shut the door.

“ Dhani lo, Kunwar [32] ,” they pushed their platters towards him.

“Holi ni Badhai, Kunwar.”

“ Kunwar ne nariyal bhaave chhe, ee aapo, Maasi… [33] ”

Samarth smiled at them all, accepting their greetings and prasad in his hands, hoping Tara Devi had not gotten down. Thank god the windows of this car were tinted.

“ Aa varse dhuleti ramvana ne, Kunwar? [34] ”

“Ramees ne, kem nai ramu?” He grinned. “Aapde badha ramsu…” [35]

Samarth didn’t know half the replies he handed out. All he knew was that he kept hoping and praying for Tara Devi to stay inside. It wouldn’t be wise to bring her into the public eye before she met Rawal.

When the current lot finally bid him goodbye and began to walk away, he opened his passenger door and relayed — “Go around the palace, Harsh.” To Tara Devi, he smiled — “Rawal will meet you in the pergola of Anand Baag.”

Harsh glared at him. Samarth could see the tsunami he was waiting to unleash on him.

He nodded, gesturing for him to remain calm.

Harsh looked away, ahead. Samarth shut the car door and it raced away.

The moment it was out of sight, he inhaled again, said Jai Dwarkadhish again under his breath, and made his way to where Rawal and Giriraj Hukum stood.

“Kunwar, where have you been all day yesterday?” His father’s brows drew together. “Hira ben allowed you to leave the palace until the night.”

“I called her late and told her I am at a safe place.”

“And where would that be?” His father’s hands went behind his back, the tone mildly angry. Samarth glanced at Giriraj Hukum behind — “Jai Dwarkadhish, Hukum.”

He smirked — “Jai Drarkadhish, Samarth. But even I can’t save you from this today,” he cocked his head to his angry father. Samarth shrugged sheepishly, channeling his cutest eyes that he had used as a child.

“Papa, can I talk to you for a second, please?”

Papa kept staring at him unblinking — that look that had the power to break criminals.

“Please?” Samarth pleaded.

“I’ll be back, Giri.”

“Family drama is always fun. Don’t forget to pass on the details,” he waggled his eyebrows at Samarth. Even in this nervous state, Samarth sputtered. Like a teenage girl. Like Ava.

Papa broke the line of people, folding his hands to them and stepping away.

“Come.”

Samarth followed him away from the crowd and towards the lawn at the base of the palace entrance. Nobody flocked here at this early hour. Nobody within earshot.

“I do not like this staying out at night, Samarth. You may have learnt to live on your own at boarding but you are still my child. This will not happen again, understood?”

“Yes, Rawal.”

“Where were you?”

Samarth swallowed.

“I am asking you something, Kunwar.”

“At Tara Devi’s house.”

Samarth noted the word fuck , the first syllable of it, coming to the tip of his father’s lips before he swallowed it down. His demeanour changed. From angry, now he looked outraged.

“Run that by me again,” he ordered calmly.

“I am sorry,” Samarth blinked, tearing his eyes away from his father’s, glancing up again, then looking away again. “I went there without informing you, without asking for your permission.”

“How do you know Tara Devi? ”

“I found out.”

“What did you find out?” His father clipped. “Do not try my patience and answer straight.”

Samarth’s palms turned clammy. He had anticipated this would be the most difficult. But now when he was lined up in front of the firing squad… he wished he could disappear.