A bitterness-born bond of shaken beliefs.

****

Rudra paced across the room. Tension had worn out and anger subsided. Decomposed remains of questions were left inside the mind.

"You had called me."

Rudra turned to the door and greeted Aryamna with a tired smile. "Come inside. Close the door."

The groom looked extremely distressed with ruffled hair and puffiness under the eyes. Rudra rebuked himself for taking the rash decision of summoning him. He had almost forgotten it was Aryamna's wedding night.

"She was drunk?" Aryamna was fuming, the quick short breaths and watery eyes giving away his displeasure.

"She was. But-"

"Punish her."

Rudra pulled Aryamna by his hand and made him sit on a chair. "I will. But I suppose I have questions for you."

Aryamna gave a quizzical look. "You mean?"

Rudra faked a smile. The sun was warm and bright, the birds chirping- a perfect morning in Aryavarta. He assured himself it all was happy. He wanted to assure himself. He was still glowing like the sun, and she accompanied him in his daily endeavors. "You have told Indu about her?" Rudra's face was laden with a sorrow satirical of his reputation. It revolted against his every concupiscent story, putting to dust his every streak of lust.

Aryamna frowned. "No, never!" He held onto the chair, eyes widened. "Why?"

Rudra chuckled. Lips trembled, eyes turning red and face crimsoning. Veins on his forehead pulsated with an old fear. "You know many people tell this palace has a haunted room."

Aryamna couldn't bear the vulnerable tears of the Rajan. He got up and cupped Rudra's face. "I don't believe. That's the most sacred room ever, an ancient treasure."

Rudra embraced Aryamna, resting his head below his chest. Aryamna tried hard to calm him down but Rudra continued to sob.

"What did Indu say?" the Senapati asked.

"Tell me, Aryamna, is my beloved really not liberated?"

Aryamna grimaced. He could see the losses of the past dilute the courage of the Rajan. The camphor-fair face had ruddied in pain as a gush of blood pumped underneath the skin.

"Is she not happy?"

"Rudra," Aryamna steadied the Rajan, "you know better than me. You know how beautiful death is to some people. Apart from that, I have no answer."

"Cruel, cruel of you!" Rudra clutched his hair and slumped back. The world had come crushing down on his head.
He could hear her giggling laughter, the chime of her anklets, imagine her red-dyed feet. "I will never forgive them and never forget," Rudra trumpeted, balling his fist. "I will take my revenge and get back to every wicked demon in my own way. After all," he smirked, "poison kills posion."
Rudra hysterically laughed.

Aryamna bit the insides of his cheeks, punching the pillar that stood in front of him. "Rudra, don't let your past be an excuse for your present."

Souls changed colours.

"Don't tell me what to do," Rudra got up, pointing his quivering finger at the Senapati. "Gods and everything too good always get on my nerves. At least let me vent!"

"And let people beyond the four walls hear what weakens the Rajan?"

The indignant darkness of Rudra's ebony eyes deepened. Aryamna took a step back but he pulled the Senapati by his uttariya. "Petra makes me weak. And Petra gives me the will to live. For her, I will go as far as the other end of the world."

"Tell me what Indu did that you became this mess. And what questions you have of me."

Rudra, with his towering height hovered above the Senapati. Suppressing the storm that wreaked havoc in his mind, he said, "Indu claimed to have seen a fire and a girl burning in it, in the forbidden room." He covered his face, sitting down on the floor and rocking like a madman. "And I don't know why she saw that," he whispered. "Maybe in her drunken state she had reached there but why did she see that? Nothing had happened here."

The scraps and dirt inside the forbidden room had been the ruination fueled by the absence of Petra but never had he allowed that place to get drowned in sorrow when she had still been present. Breathing.

"I don't understand." Aryamna narrowed his eyes. "I don't–"

"You do. Either you said her something, or she heard rumours about it being a haunted room."

"I never revealed our past to her! I have always protected her," Aryamna claimed with fury. "I always took good care of her. She must have been dreaming. And as much as it is troubling you, it's troubling me too. I need to find how she–"

"Are you a fool?" Rudra screamed. "What if she doesn't remember? That would be the best. I don't want her to recall what she uttered while drunk."

Aryamna's eyes darted across the room but never fixated upon Rudra. He looked lost and pale, sordid memories gluing to his sanity. "I don't know anything. Don't ask me."

Rudra knew how tough his Senapati was. If he didn't want, Rudra would never be able to extract an answer from him. Neither did he want to disturb Indumala. "You are her father."

"Forgive me, Rudra. I have nothing to share."

Rudra saw his trembling body. Aryamna's grip never threatened to slip from the spear. If it did now, he better left the man alone.

"Then I have nothing more to ask," Rudra said with a sigh. "I hope you won't tell Indumala about it."

Aryamna nodded. "Alright. I shall take my leave."

The seed of doubt had long been planted in Aryamna's mind, and now the roots held on to his heart in wicked turns.

He ran out of the room, too afraid, too guilty. He just wanted to protect his daughter as long as he could.

But could he fight destiny?

****

Indu's limbs felt stiff and heavy like chains attached to a huge ball of iron. It hammered at the back of her head. She struggled to open her eyes, the lines of the world blurred and colours splashed like on a wet canvas.

The bed was velvety and comfy, many cushions snuggled around her. Two maids fanned her while ogling her body suspiciously.

It immediately registered in her mind where she was.

She gasped, instinctively touching her body. Her clothes were intact. No pain pricked her sensitive parts.

"You can be at peace. The Rajan has dignity."

Indumala panicked at that voice. She had heard it sometimes in the palace. It belonged to a woman she never wanted to confront.

But her life had to be a quicksand.
Indumala tried to get up by using all her remaining strength.

The lady in red sat on the side of the bed, gently putting Indumala down. "Don't stress yourself."

Indumala blinked her eyes. The woman had put a long veil today, though the glittering fabric allowed enough light to seep in for Indu to make a rough outline of her features.
Something was unique about her features, and it confused Indu how she could quickly assess those. A vague sense of familiarity was there that had otherwise been missing all these days.

"The fatigue has not worn out, it seems," the lady said.

Indu wondered what those words could have meant. Hearing it while on the Rajan's bed wasn't a very joyous news.

Whenever she heard her speak, to whomever and wherever, her voice had the aura of a honey-coated dagger.

Indu didn't remember anything from the night before. She tried to force the memories back. Glimpses and snippets couldn't make a story. The woman caressed her, playing with her locks.

It made her flinch. The woman pulled her hand away. "Oh, I am absolutely sorry. I thought you would not mind," she whispered.

"No, I am just–"

The door suddenly opened. The woman got up from the bed, lowering her head in respect. Came in the Rajan. "Dilrobar?"

The woman went closer to Rudra. "I heard she had got drunk and fainted. So I came to see her."

"Does she remember anything?"

Dilrobar looked back at her. She could see the timidity in Indumala's eyes, so playful and charming. Alas, Indumala could not reach her gaze.

"I haven't asked her. I shall leave you two alone, I pray she may get well soon."

"Take care."

Indumala wanted to go and dig a hole for herself.

God knows how many times the two did things here, and now, I slept on the same bed.

Dilrobar patted his back casually and went away. Rudra dismissed the two maids. Indumala wondered the reason for this secrecy.

Before Rudra could hurl at her insults, she thought it best to clarify.
"I don't remember anything. I apologise for any inconvenience caused."

Rudra didn't answer. He poured himself a chalice of bitter amla juice.

"I hope I didn't embarass anyone. I was too sad yesterday after..." She paused. She could not tell it all and get another issue with her master.

"After?" Rudra stared at Indu, unamused. "Please continue."

Indumala pouted. "After you sang that song and Father got visibly upset. I–"

"–tried to forget things along with a wine. Cheers." He lifted up the chalice of amla juice and feigned to drink alcohol. "So bland."

"Can you not tell me what I did?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"No. I will not. If I ever do, though, know it's not going to be a very happy day."

She kept quiet.

"Alright. If you feel weak, have some fruits. Take rest but join your duty from tomorrow."

"Did you tell Baba about this?"
Her voice quavered. She turned away and cried.

As much as he felt irked by this bodyguard, she could be adorable too, even this fiercely relatable. Both of them were wary of upsetting the Senapati.

"Ah, I see. Warriors have this habit of not crying before their comrades." He himself behaved in the same way. "Well, you-"

"For your knowledge," she said in a cracked voice, sniffing back her tears, "I can cry with my friends, and maybe even with Baba. But I can't in front of you and the palace people." The anger came to a boil. How did he dare tell her Baba everything?

Rudra raised his brows. "Why?"

"You all aren't close to me," she blurted. "I can cry with my comrades but not you. Not with people who are above me, way above me. Not with ones who feel I am different." She vented out her frustration, stomach churning unremitting worries.

"Oh, I understand." Sounds of the scarlet crystal cracking inside Rudra's ribcage remained silent. "You must join again from tomorrow and by no means should I tolerate any more of your reckless behavior." He murmured curses under his breath, and like many times in his life, Rudra collected the broken pieces and walked off with his brimming wrath.

Indumala felt too tired to even think or ponder over what had happened. "All because of me!" She sobbed, wetting the pillows and painting the bedsheets in her kohl. Maybe she would again get a scolding for dirtying his room. "Baba must have had to leave Maa. Poor her, it would have been her first night spending some time with him. I scarred her memories."

She knew Ishvara wasn't much older to her. Indumala placed herself in Ishvara's place, wondering how she would have reacted if her husband left her on the first night.

"No, I must ask for forgiveness."

Just one mistake, and so many things happened. Her father had always asked her to be cautious.

The Rajan had called her a comrade. Foolish her didn't pay his words reverence.

"I am sorry. Oh Shiva, I need to go ask everyone for forgiveness! How much I torment people..." She closed her eyes, focusing all her energy into trying to recall. She had been drinking, cursing, being alone...

Something had gone dark, suddenly. There were orbs of light and someone speaking to her. After that, she didn't remember anything more.

"And how did Dilrobar know? Does the whole palace know of my deed?"

The picture of Dilrobar chased her. "That veil ought to hide a lot of cunning and shrewd tactics." Sudden images of blood stains and dusty bangles came to her mind. She gave a little shiver.

The wine had been too strong.

"I need to get well soon. I can't let them think I will stay here forever."
She closed her eyes, falling asleep as noon fell over Ishgar.