Chapter 144

Oh my! A tiny innocent spoiler and all the world is a panic?! Hmmm... I am loving this evilness *grin*

But truthfully, I would never give a spoiler unless I was updating the very next day. Imagine what would happen if I had given a spoiler one week afore. What a calm week that would have been?!

Here's the update as promised... the InnKeeper's grinning this way! *waves heartily at him* He's promised a round of hot chocolates tonight with a topping of vanilla! *slurp*

Chapter 222: The Story of the Night

All three ladies helped carry the unsteady Master Shashi to his bed and they tended to him, wiping off the break of sweat on his face and trying to cool his heated forehead with a wet wad of cloth.

He was feeling dizzy but he kept complaining that they should choose to do more useful things than moan and mop around him.

"Will you listen to him, Jiji!" Garima fumed as she wiped the sweat off his neck. She frowned at him, "If you hadn't gone and done senseless, we'd be all sitting by the fireplace and not letting our teas get cold!"

"And I suggest you go back and enjoy your tea," proposed Master Shashi, smiling tiredly at his wife's face.

Garima glared at him, "Don't you dare think you can smile your way out of this nuisance! I have a good mind to pour that pot of wasted tea on your grinning face!"

Madhumati came in with a fresh wad of wet cloth and placed it on her brother's forehead, "Shall I get the tea kettle then?"

Shashi laughed and Garima was relieved to hear it. Kushi smiled, too, but she didn't have the heart to, after having seen her dear father swoon. This was the second time she had seen him fainted.

It worried her to think that this might be a frequent occurrence and as she was afraid of the answer, she kept herself from asking of it to her aunt or mother.

She sat on the other side of her father's bed, holding his head as her mother tended to him from the other side.

Master Shashi looked at his daughter and smiled at her, his pale cheeks contrasting against the tired dark circles under his eyes.

"Why do you not smile, my Princess? Will you not give your father a gift of your sweet smile?"

Kushi's eyes filled with tears, "Babuji..." She bent down and hugged him where he lay on his bed and he wrapped his arms around her, knowing she was scared.

"I am alright, bitiya," he whispered warmly, "Nothing will happen to me..."

Fresh tears sprang in Garima's eyes and she gently caressed her daughter's hair.

Master Shashi closed his eyes, "Only I wish I could have completed those swords I was working on-"

"Don't you talk of swords, brother!" Madhumati warned from the other end of the room, "I will not hear of it from you anymore!" And then she mumbled to herself, "Who, in their sane mind, would even think of swordmaking when it is raining mad?!"

Kushi sniffed and tried to keep her voice unaffected by the tears, "Please don't worry yourself to work, Babuji... If you need anything, you only need to ask-"

Suddenly, through the rain, the sound of approaching wheels was heard and the three women perked up.

So did Master Shashi.

"Oh dear," he said as he tried to rise up, "We can't let Arnavbabua see-"

"You lie down right there, Shashi!" Madhumati's beefy hands had pushed him down to the bed by his shoulders, snuffing his feeble attempts to get out of bed.

Master Shashi tried to explain, "But I-"

Garima slapped a freshly wet wad of cloth on his forehead, "You lie down and try to get your head right. We don't want you sitting at the table, worrying everyone with your unsteady poise and giving Arnavbabua clear hints."

No amount of manly tantrums from Master Shashi could persuade the womenfolk to let him appear out of the room. After sentencing him to his bed, they left him with assurances of frequent visits to check on his health.

Patting her wig to ensure that it was positioned right, Madhumati presented herself to open the living room door to Lord Arnav, who nodded in greeting and then asked her if there was a place to dry his umbrella in.

Madhumati volunteered to take the wet object from his grasp and Garima stepped in to invite him to the warm fireplace were his tea awaited.

He excused himself to change his attire that was wet at the sleeves and left for the room upstairs.

When he descended down to the living room a few minutes later, Madhumati was seated on the lounger before the fireplace and pouring tea into his cup.

Nodding gratefully, he sat in the armchair across from her and took the cup and saucer when handed.

Sipping it, he leaned back in his armchair and listened to the fire crackling in the fireplace and the rain that fell in torrents outside. Some drops from the heavens fell through the chimney, making the fire fizz but not enough to extinguish. Occasionally, thunder would rumble and lightning would blaze across the sky making the cottage walls appear white for a flash.

Madhumati smiled kindly, "How was your day, babua?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Lord Arnav replied, sipping his tea.

"What sort of things do you do at the Industry?" asked Madhumati, pushing forward a plate of warm cookies.

"Thank you, but I'm not quite keen on sweet things," whispered Lord Arnav, refusing the edibles, and then he sipped his tea and answered her question, "I do all sorts of work a First Lord is expected to do."

Just then the sound of a door opening was heard and he saw Garima step out from the bedroom adjacent to the dining hall.

She closed the door behind her and then made for the living room, her face breaking into a slight smile on catching Lord Arnav's gaze.

"Is the tea warm enough, babua?" she asked as she walked around the lounger and seated herself on it beside her sister-in-law.

"Just the right warm," he nodded politely as he sat up.

Garima's gaze fell on the untouched cookies on the table and she directed him to them, "Take some cookies, won't you? They are freshly baked-"

"Yes, the warm aroma hung strong in the room when I walked in," explicated Lord Arnav, his eyes following Mistress Madhumati rise up and walk through the corridor to the dining hall, "But I am not particularly appreciative of sweets and confectionary..."

He saw Mistress Madhumati enter the room through which Garima had come and the door was shut again.

"How was the return ride, babua?" Garima asked eagerly, "I only hope you didn't get yourself wet."

Lord Arnav's gaze swung from the door to Garima's face, "What? Oh. No, I am perfectly dry," he leaned back in the armchair and sipped his tea, "I had an umbrella."

"That is good. But really! What a storm it is!" Garima remarked, looking in the direction of the window where the storm raged wild.

"Yes, quite a weather," mumbled Lord Arnav as he sipped his remaining tea.

The door near the dining hall opened again and Mistress Madhumati stepped out with a bowl of water in her hand.

Lord Arnav's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. What is going on? Where is Kushi? Is she in there?

"Where is-" he had barely begun to ask when, fearing he was about to ask of Master Shashi, Garima interrupted, "Jiji, do bring the kettle. Arnavbabua might like some more tea."

"No, I want no more, thank you," he conciliated as he watched Mistress Madhumati walk into the living room with the steaming kettle on a tray.

"The evening is cold, babua," persuaded Madhumati, as she placed the tray on the table and seated herself beside Garima, "It would do good to let some warmth inside of you."

Lord Arnav opened his mouth to reply but Garima remarked, "I was just telling him about the storm."

Thunder rumbled overhead and Madhumati nodded gravely, "Terribly wild night indeed."

Garima looked across the window, as though lost in thought, "So terrible... like the night of the play."

Lord Arnav looked up, confused.

Mistress Madhumati turned to Garima, her expression curious, "Ah. The night of play... I am not privy of the details but I know it was a heartbreaking night."

"Very much," sighed Garima sadly, looking at the floor, "It was the night everything fell apart...the mill, the home, the happiness..."

"What happened?" asked Lord Arnav cautiously.

Suddenly, Garima tore herself from her memories and stared palely at the First Lord, "Oh, forgive me, my lord. I didn't mean to bring it up. It is not to disparage-"

"Hai Re Nandakishore! Garima?" Madhumati held her hand, "What has happened to you? This is Arnavbabua here. Not the First Lord."

"Forgive me," Garima said to no one in particular, as she pressed her fingers to her forehead, "I fear I am not thinking sensibly. Things one cannot understand are so hard to handle. What with Sh-"

Stopping herself in time, she looked up at Lord Arnav who was staring at her as though she had gone mad.

"You must be hungry, babua," said Garima with a sudden smile, "Madhumati let's get the dinner heated and-"

She had stood up to leave but Lord Arnav's quick hand grasped at her wrist, surprising her, and he waited until she had sat again on the lounger.

He leaned forward, his hand holding hers, "Tell me about the night of the play..."

The fire crackled in the fireplace and thunder roared in the sky outside.

But the living room of the cottage had suddenly become so quiet that they could have heard the fall of a feather, even with the mad storm outside.

Reluctantly, Garima tried to reason, "I am afraid that some things are better left unsaid, babua..."

"Things unsaid will only dig the wounds deeper," said Lord Arnav, a strange mist swirling in his eyes for a second before he looked at her earnestly, "I need to know."

Garima was still unsure, "Babua..."

Lord Arnav didn't let go of her hand as he looked at her, "Please..."

Nervously patting her wig, Madhumati watched the two and then she looked over her shoulder at the door across the dining hall. Oh dear, Shashi, where are you when the moment requires your wiser presence...

The fire that crackled peacefully in the fireplace contrarily seemed to burst and splinter inside of him. He watched the sparks fly and land on the floor of the hearth only to lose its light, darken and die.

Sighing, he turned his head and cast his gaze to the kitchen where Garima and Madhumati were busy getting dinner.

Garima was smiling at something Madhumati had said but he could see the pain in her eyes: The lingering pain of the unknown and the pain of what had passed in the last few minutes.

Unraveling the story of the night may have relieved Garima of her buried woes a little but it only added to Lord Arnav's silent harbor of guilt.

Among the many things he listed himself unworthy to deserve Kushi, he realized the greater ones were yet to come.

Bowing his head, he closed his eyes and tried to shut the images away.

The images of her night of ridicule, her father's empty hands, the dark house of theirs in the North Village uninhabited of people because there was too much pain in the wake of its memories...

All because of him. All because of me...

He looked up again at Garima as she set the dessert on the table.

She had given him only the peripheral details: about the unexpected staging of the peculiar plot, of the hasty transport of the family to their home and then the girls being sent to their aunt's in the South Village. She only dimly highlighted the resorted sale of the mill, the eventual migration of the Guptas from the North Village and their ultimate reimbursement of earnings in swordmaking and knitting... never lingering on the painful moments, never giving him a reason to feel ashamed...

But he knew. Deep down, he had always known there were prices to pay and that those he'd let Kushi suffer would never find redemption.

And to think that he had only listened to the mother speak and had never offered her a word in return or even a sigh of repentance.

Thunder rumbled in the sky, echoing over the lands.

Resolutely rising from the armchair, he moved towards the dining hall, his slow steps weighed with guilt.

He had neared the dining table where Garima was setting the glasses beside each plate and was struggling with words when Garima looked up and, on seeing him, smiled, "Ah, I was just about to announce dinner ready. Seat yourself, babua, while I go and call Kushibitiya." She moved towards the living room.

Finding the awkward moment of apology thwarted, Lord Arnav reacted to the moment, "I'll... I'll call her down."

Garima paused and smilingly surrendered to his offer.

She returned back to the dining hall as he proceeded to the stairs in the living room, but he had only just placed his foot on the first stair when he stopped and frowned.

He looked in the direction of the dining hall, "She is not in her room. I had gone to change there-" His eyes fell on the door through which Garima and Madhumati had been found entering and exiting frequently, "Isn't she-?"

"HAI RE NANDAKISHORE!!" Madhumati's voice exclaimed suddenly from the kitchen, "What has gone wrong with this family!"

Garima swirled where she stood and Lord Arnav rushed back to the dining hall, his eyes on the aunt who was staring out the window that looked over the backyard.

"What is it, Jiji?" the worried mother voiced, as she took steps towards the window.

"What is that girl-" Madhumati uttered as she placed the hot dish she had been holding on the kitchen counter and made to move for the backdoor.

But even before she had reached it, swift manly strides quickened across the wooden floor of the dining hall and Lord Arnav's determined hand clutched at the handle of the backdoor.

"Babua...?" Madhumati hesitated in astonishment and Garima's pale-faced gaze looked from the window to the scene at the backdoor.

But without the offer of a reply or gesture, Lord Arnav had already opened the backdoor and stepped out into the stormy backyard, striding through the heavy rain, towards the forge where his wet, shivering wife stood hammering at the hilt of a sword... the clanking sound, though muffled by the sound of rain, clanging on his ears like the condemning toll of his transgressions.