The King And The Nightingale/Last part pg 84/Epilogue pg 91 - Page 17

Part 3

Mohini woke up to the sound of rain falling on the terrace adjoining her room. Listening to the soothing rhythm of the falling raindrops interspersed frequently with booming thunder, Mohini gazed at the beautiful vines and flowers mural on the ceiling with an amalgam of conflicting emotions raging in her heart. Loneliness and homesickness vied for space with a budding sense of excitement and pride.

She recalled the almost surreal events of last night with a strange fluttering in her heart. "Did that really happen to me? Khushi? Did His Highness really say that he was enchanted by me?.

Sitting up, she touched her cheek that was but lightly grazed by his warm fingers last night and the light fluttering in her heart transformed into a painful pounding.

By the end of the day, she had really forged a deep friendship with Radha, cementing a life long belief in the 'chunni exchange ceremony' in Radha's mind. With Radha in tow, she explored the East Wing curiously and was introduced to several women, most of them members of the royal family. Besides the Rajmata and Maharani Harshita, the place was full of other female relations like the Maharaja's aunts, sisters, cousins. His late father's aged wives and concubines were allowed to continue living there too.

After a sumptuous afternoon meal, she wanted to explore the outdoors and was escorted by Radha to an exquisite and beautifully kept rose garden, designed to seduce the most jaded of persons with it's sights, sounds and smells. It was partly cloudy and the dark cobblestone pathways still gleamed from the morning rain. Inhaling the heady rose-scented breeze, she leisurely strolled through the garden exclaiming in pure delight upon encounting a peacock that scurried in front of her with it's magnificent tail trailing behind in a regal fashion. Her large almond shaped eyes sparkling with youthful excitement and the deep burgundy of her lehenga choli complimenting her ivory complexion, she attracted a lot of envious glances as she knelt down to daintily pick a peacock feather, her long lustrous hair pooling on the pathway behind her.

After a while, they reached the center of the garden adorned with a large, imposing, marble fountain, intricately carved and inlaid with colored glasses by the finest craftsmen of the country. Sitting on the edge of the pool as she dipped her hand in the cool water, Radha gazed at her with her eyes gleaming with pride and genuine appreciation.

"You are the first courtesan to be kept in the Palace after His Highness wedded Maharani Harshita three years ago", she said.

"How does Maharani Harshita look like?, Mohini asked with a sudden twinge of guilt in her heart.

"She is extremely beautiful", Radha said candidly before pausing for a while.

"But she is not well. A team of royal physicians visit her every day".

"Not well?

"Her maid says she is possessed. It's very unfortunate but there's nothing that anyone can do about it. I feel so sorry for the little Yuvraj, even though he lives mostly with his grandmother and His Highness, being an exemplary father, finds time to spend with him too, almost everyday".

The rest of the day flew by and soon it was night again. Earlier, when Radha had entered her room to light the oil lamps, her arms were loaded with beautiful clothes of the finest silks, expensive jewelry, finest perfumes and other necessities that a woman might need or fancy.

Noticing the questions in Mohini's widened eyes, Radha informed her that she was ordered to make sure that she had every possible thing that she might need or fancy. Being favored by the King himself had immediately elevated her ranks in the Palace's hierarchy.

Later that night, when Radha offered to get her ready for His Majesty's visit in a matter of fact tone, Mohini felt her hands getting clammy from nervousness again. After she was ready, Radha took her leave and Mohini sat on the bed once again, wondering, if she was trapped in a dream. The golden threads and crystals on her pink lehenga choli glinted in the lamp light with her every little movement causing her jhumkas to sway and her bangles to chime.

Mohini however found little pleasure in either her exquisitely embroidered silken clothes or her beautiful jewelry and sitting very still, she was scarcely able to breathe. Not knowing what her future held for her, her heart was encompassed in a dark cloud of insecurity and despondency, which only the memory of a light tender touch on her face was able to dispel from time to time.

The loud, ceremonial announcement of His Majesty's arrival snapped her out of her reverie and with her heart racing painfully, she got off the bed to properly greet him with due respect.

The door opened and he strode in, bringing with him a tangibly potent air of strength and authority that was impossible to miss. Keeping her gaze reverentially lowered, she felt him come close and when he paused, just inches away from her, she greeted him shyly, not quite knowing what to expect.

Without a word, he snaked his arm around her bare waist and pulled her flush against him, Mohini stopped breathing altogether and thought she was going to faint again. His hand splattered firmly against her silken waist felt her trembling uncontrollably with nervousness.

"Look at me", he said in an authoritative tone, that had perhaps become a habit with frequent use.

Obediently, Mohini raised her face to look at him and mesmerized by his eyes, was unable to look away.

"Are you still afraid of me?, he demanded.

"A llitle", Mohini stammered, licking her suddenly dry lips.

After studying the raging turbulence in her doe eyes for some brief moments, he suddenly released her and asked her to sit in a slightly softer tone.

Sitting on the bed, Mohini watched nervously as he removed his bejeweled scabbard, his headdress and his magnificent outer cloak and lay down on the bed, resting relaxedly on one elbow.

" Sing something", he asked in an almost gentle voice, taking her by surprise.

Flustered by his proximity, she cast her eyes long eyelashes down and endeavored hard to get her bearings back before starting her song. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and in no time at all, the soulful, heart tugging notes of an age old song issued forth from her soft shapely lips. The sheer beauty of her voice was indescribable and had rendered many renowned maestros in the field of music simply speechless with emotions.

In the middle of the song, she summoned courage to look up at him. With his eyes shut and facial features relaxed, he looked younger and far less intimidating. Mohini took advantage of the opportunity presented to her to study his face in great detail, admiring his chiseled features, the high regal forehead, the strong jawline.

When he opened his eyes suddenly and looked straight in her eye, she started, blushed a deep shade of red and hurriedly cast her gaze down again. Forgetting the lyrics of her song in her confusion.

She bit her lower lip nervously, "I'm sorry, Your Highness, I fforgot the words", she stammered.

Leaning forward slightly, he covered her hand resting on her knee with his, leisurely toying with the gold and glass bangles on her delicate wrist.

"You sing very well. Who taught you?

As she answered him with a quivering voice, he said suddenly, "Mohini, look at me".

His voice held command and a tinge of impatience.

As she finally looked at him, the innocence and anxiety of her gaze was caught and held firmly by the intensity in his.

The next question surprised her, "Do you have a family in Bhopal?

Mohini shook her head and said, "They all passed away, when I was ten".

As a shadow of intense pain flitted across her features, his gaze softened and he asked, "How?

"My father was a trader and I was ten when our caravan was attacked by highway men...and...". She paused and closed her eyes, struggling to curb the still fresh memories of a protective father, a loving mother and a mischievous older brother. Memories of being brought to Bhopal by a stranger and sold...

She opened her eyes as she felt his large hand engulf hers in a warm clasp.

For the first time she met his eyes voluntarily and gazed in wonder at the swirling softness in their caramel depths.

"Was this in Rewar?, he asked.

"No, Your Highness, this was near Bhopal".

After being lost in thoughts for a while, the Maharaja abruptly got up from the bed.

Watching him getting ready to leave, she couldn't quite understand an inexplicable sense of disappointment assailing her heart. When ready, he looked down at her and as their eyes locked, he extended his arm to catch hold of one of her hands and gently pull her up.

Folding his arms around her, he pulled her very close to him in a markedly possessive manner. As Mohini struggled with her failing breathing and heartbeats, he bent his head down to slowly caress the dewy skin of her cheek with his firm lips.

Feeling his warm breaths fanning her senstized skin and smelling his warm, musky smell, Khushi clenched her eyes shut, breaking out in goosebumps all over her body.

Kissing her lightly on her cheek, he said close to her ear,"This is your home now and I want you to be happy here. Just like your name".

Raising his head, he gazed down at her, amuseldly noting her still clenched eyes and furiously flaming cheeks.

"Open you eyes..Mohini", he ordered.

Opening them, she looked up at him, dazedly.

His lips curved in an incredibly attractive half smile, he said, "I will see you tomorrow".

She nodded wordlessly, a hint of a smile lighting up her honey colored eyes too.

It was no surprise that after a series of regular nightly meetings, sixteen year old Mohini was hopelessly infatuated with this enigmatic, attractive man, who for some unexplained reason, had allowed her to glimpse the softer, rarely expressed side of his nature.

Though only sixteen and naive, Mohini had been meticulously tutored on the ways of men and the exact nature of relationship between a man and a woman, which was actually no surprise, considering the nature of the place, she had spent the last six years of her life at. When she was asked to stay back in the palace in lieu of gold, she had no doubt in her mind about what exactly, the Maharaja wanted from her.

And the fact that despite their regular meetings, Maharaja had never once attempted to 'take things forward', confused her and wonder anxiously about his intentions. Every evening, he would listen to her singing, enquire about her day and listen to her as she talked. In fact encouraging her to talk. She would sometimes catch a gleam of amusement in his eyes as she described something animatedly and in great detail. But besides kissing on her cheek now and then, he showed no inclination toward getting physically intimate with her.

"Has he kept me in the palace just because of my voice? May be he doesn't even find me attractive and will send me back to Bhopal, once he tires of my voice", Mohini thought gazing out of the stone latticed window, painfully insecure about her future.

"And I don't want to go back!, sudden realization hit her with hot tears welling from distraught eyes. It was a moment of epiphany for her as she realized that she had really carved herself a home under the warmth of his tender gazes.

Her insecurity increased exponentially when he didn't come to visit her for a whole week. There was no doubt left in her young heart that His Highness had tired of her already and that in no time at all, she would be summarily sent back to Bhopal.

It was the eighth day since his last visit and unable to bear the torture of suspense any longer, Mohini lay in bed, crying her heart out".

"Oh, I can't bear it anymore, Radha. I'm sure His Highness has found someone else. Or, maybe I said something to offend him, I know I should talk less. Why didn't I pay attention to my mistress, when she was teaching me tricks to ensnare a man's heart?!", she ranted incoherently in between sobs...

"Such is Palace life", said Radha sadly, well versed in the ways of royalty.

"He is a Maharaja, it is but foolish to expect him to stay faithful to one woman", continued Radha, causing Mohini to break into fresh tears.

Then, she sat up in bed, her sodden eyes wide with bewilderment, "But..he didn't ...didn't even...once".

Blushing, she glanced shyly at Radha, unable to continue. Resting her head on drawn up knees, she sat quietly, refusing repeated offers to drink water, eat or even change clothes.

After a long time, she raised her head with her eyes steely with resolve. She had very impetuously decided on a way to end this tortue of uncertainty and suspense.

"Radha...can you bring me a quill, ink and a scroll".

Being able to read and write was perhaps a decided advantage that a courtesan had over other women of that period.

An hour later, Mohini sat with a feather quill in her hand and a frown of concentration on her face. Writing a letter to the King is a tricky matter, she discovered and it was only after several unsuccessful attempts that she had a message ready for him.

Rolling the scroll, she put it in it's silver case and handed it to a terrified Radha.

"If His Highness considers it an impertinence, I will be sent to the gallows", whimpered Radha.

"No, he won't!, said Mohini confidently, "He is very kind, even though quick tempered".

Thus an extremely nervous and unenthusiastic Radha was sent on a mission by her adamant young mistress to convey a message to the Maharaja himself. A mission fraught with many dangers in Radha's mind.

The Maharaja had had a very hectic, stress filled week with several grave issues concerning the governance of Rewar being brought to his notice by the governors of the various districts. There was an issue of a water dispute between two districts plus an allegation against a tehsildaar of embezzling state funds. Then to top it all, a group of villagers had come to his morning court, pleading to be saved from a man eating tiger, who had been terrorizing their village for the past week and had caused several deaths already.

The Maharaja was on the way to his heavily guarded chambers to prepare for a journey to the afflicted village.

As the royal entourage strode down a corridor, encompassed by an air of urgency, the afternoon sun streamed from the narrow windows on one side, dappling the floor with bright, narrow steaks of sunshine. A girl emerged from a small alcove and approached one of the Maharaja's aides.

While the aide looked at the girl with displeasure, shocked at her impertinence, an armed soldier covered the distance between them in a few quick footsteps.

"What are you doing in this part of the Palace?, he asked in a loud, menacing voice.

As Radha shook in fright unable to utter a word, the Maharaja himself paused and glanced behind his shoulder.

" What's this disturbance?, he asked, impatiently.

"Nothing, Your Highness. Just a foolish girl, who had the audacity to try to stop", began the soldier in a deferent tone.

"Bring her here", commanded the Maharaja.

Being brought to face him, Radha's heart pounded painfully in her ribcage and she murmured a frantic supplication under her breath.

"What do you want?, he asked imperiously, his caramel eyes aglow with annoyance.

"Aren't you aware that a royal court is held every morning to address any complaints or problems that my subjects might have".

"It's not a complaint but a message that brings me here today".

Surprised, the Maharaja asked with a frown, "Who is it from?

"I was instructed not to reveal the name of the sender in front of everyone".

Raising a finely arched eyebrow, he extended his arm for the silver case.

"You can go now. Consider it your good fortune that you're pardoned this time. If there is another time, you might not be", he said ominously, before dismissing her.

Once inside his opulent chamber, he sat down on an upholstered chair, woven with threads of real gold and pulled the scroll out from it's silver case.

His Highness gazed at the childishly simple words written in flowery handwriting for a long time. His face was inscrutable as ever but there was an undecipherable expression in his eyes.

Meanwhile a tearful Radha ran to Mohini's chambers, bearing bad news. That the Maharaja had looked highly displeased at being given a message, while he was with his ministers and aides.

Mohini's face fell and her heart pounded, apprehensively. A lot of times, we get carried away and express certain things in a letter that we would never dare say in front of a person. Her eyes wide with fear, Mohini cursed herself silently for having thought of this idea.