Because Of You. . .

THREE

SURBHI,

I couldn’t sleep, ceaselessly tossing and turning through the night. Thinking about the man who’d saved me, my apparent betrothed. He defied my expectations, as if the heavens had taken its time to meticulously craft him, paying attention to every minute detail. His eyes were the hues of a mildly stormy sky, his skin flawlessly dark like the earth itself, and his jawline was a finely etched contour.

He had it all.

My cheeks almost warmed up, as the memory of him in nothing from the waist up flashed through my mind. His chest tightened with muscles, covered enticingly in dark hair that trailed all the way down his flat stomach, disappearing beneath his pants. He really had it all, a deity among men. The King of Narva, ladies and gentlemen.

I tried to imagine what Pia would say presently, maybe question my sanity. I’d almost died tonight, yet that seemed to be the least of my concerns. The Princess had to be stupid or mental. How could anyone possibly let go of a man like that, for a commoner for that matter? Not that it was any of my business. Her loss. And with that thought, I tried sleeping but that man still haunted my dreams.

I wasn’t expected to rise early, but I still did out of habit. We rose before the sun in Yuva, starting the day with a barely average breakfast and rehearsals. Then we’d crowd the Madame’s office for our schedules for the day. The longer the list, the better, it meant you were doing something worthwhile. Now I just lazed around and indulged in bubble baths. Not my favorite part about playing Princess, but at least my skin was glowing. I’d be the envy of the hall, the Madame, if there was still a wall standing.

“Where were you last night?” The lady maid given to me by the Queen stormed into the bathroom, all spewing and fuming.

“Sleeping,”

“I came to check on you but you were gone. Where were you?” She gritted out, but I knew she’d heard the whispers. That I’d almost drowned, and was nursed by royal maids that weren’t her. But I didn’t care.

“I was sleeping,” Her frown deepened.

“Don’t mess with me, girlie. I can end_” The rest of her threat was cut out by a voice announcing someone’s entrance, I couldn’t quite catch the name. I would never get used these unnecessary royal decorum and bullshit.

“Am not dressed yet, turn them away, Myra,”

“It’s Mara, and you can’t turn anyone away. This isn’t your palace, neither are you the princess,” This woman had a knack for raining on my parade, as if happiness was a foreign concept. In all the days I’d known her, I was yet to see even a shadow of a smile grace her face. Maybe it was her age, nearly fifty and still a lowly lady maid. Even I would be sad in the face of such failures, with one foot in the grave.

She threw a towel at me, disappearing into the room next door, a vast repository of the monstrous gowns I was expected to wear. Each extravagant and needlessly voluminous, with bland muted hues. I couldn’t breath or get anywhere in them, but I had little choice in the matter. Why was this visitor even calling on me now? They were a week too late.

After all the hassle of dressing up, and powdering myself, I braced myself for the nuisance in my morning. It was a woman around my age, and definitely not a royal. Her dress wasn’t as pretentious, and she lacked that gemstone that was particular with the royals of Narva. The stone of mind, amethyst

“What do you want?” The Princess wasn’t exactly a saint, so I didn’t have to bother with manners. Though Myra had tried to describe her as misunderstood, whatever that meant.

“I heard you were back, and I had to come say hello and maybe commend your audacity,” Everything she spoke was all gibberish, but I couldn’t ignore the condescending undertone in her voice. In Yuva, I got it a daily dose of drama, because women living together wasn’t as empowering. Too much emotions. Here I was deprived of chaos, but this woman might change that.

“The King in Waiting practically threw you out of the palace, yet here you are weeks later. I thought you had a sliver of shame within you,” Who the f**k was this woman again?

“Pardon my intrusion, Your Highness, but would you and Lady Zahara care for some tea?” Ah, Zahara, the King in waiting's concubine. A royal dancer who had found favour in a higher power, I’d been warned about her. But up close, I found no fault in her. She was just a woman looking out for herself.

“We’re good,” I replied, and once Myra was out of hearing range I continued, “I have no intentions of kindling my relationship with the man in question, you can keep him. Or better yet, snatch him, that’ll be more fun,”

“What?” She stuttered, and I wasn’t sure if she was taken aback by my words or bluntness.

“If that’s all, I was on my way out. Best of luck,” I walked out, with Myra hot on my heels with whispered protests. I didn’t care. I was stepping into the sun for the first time in forever, and I let it burn into my pores for a minute or two, and the rush that spread through me was exhilarating. I didn’t know where to go next in this bustling palace, but at least I had the guards shadowing me, and Myra. They’d never let me stray into a pool or somewhere far worse.

In the daylight, the palace looked more grander, a breathtaking testament to Narvan opulence. The halls were painted with vibrant art illustrating customs and rituals that I knew nothing of. Arched doorways, with complex carvings that told tales of Narva’s rich monarch history, opened to different corridors of the palace.

Marbled floors beneath my feet, cold to the touch, led to expansive chambers filled with ornate furnishings and plush carpets, like mine I presumed. There were ivory towers with gilded domes that caught in the sun, as they soared ambitiously into the azure sky.

And the sky, painted in hues of gold and blue, reminded me of the Princess’s betrothed, and I wondered about the colour of his eyes. Would they be a shadowed version of blue under the light as they were last night, or would they be as cerulean as I’d heard? It didn’t matter. I took in a deep breath, feeling a little better than I’d been in days.

It was going to be a beautiful day.

But I’d barely made it anywhere when screams erupted from somewhere around. A piercing cry that curled my blood. And the memories of that last night in Yuva, the mess that painted the place I called home. The blood. The bodies. The screams. Everything still haunted me, a dark cloud into most of my nights.

“What was that?” I asked warily.

“Nothing,” Myra replied hastily, turning me away, but Zahara intercepted us. With a rue smile, she took my hand and dragged me to the scene. There was a crowd, mostly of servants with downcast stares, and in the middle of it all was a young man. Stripped to his waist with his hands and limbs tied around a tree, and a dark rubber belt descending unceasingly over his back. Splitting his skin over and over. A bloody mess.

I had heard stories of flogging, but I had never witnessed it or experienced it. Pia had lived through it in her childhood, but she'd never once flinched as she retold the stories, yet here I stood tore to the core by the agony in the man’s laboured breaths. I couldn’t move, crippled by the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me.

“Pull yourself together, girl,” Myra whispered, wiping away tears I wasn’t even aware of. Heavens, I was shaking.

“This is what happens when rules aren’t followed, isn’t it a sight to behold?” Zahara smiled cruelly, and I didn’t have the words to tell her off. I threw a glance at the beaten man, he’d passed out in between the last minute, and I doubted he’d ever be able to walk when he came around. They obviously broke something in him. What terrible mistake could he have committed to warrant this?

“Get back to work, or I'll lay it you too,” The man wielding the belt said breathily, and none of the servants waited to be told twice. Before Myra could drag me away, I caught sight of the King in Waiting walking on the other side of the court. Regality in his every stride, lost in conversation with his personal guard, and I couldn’t help it.

My terror morphed into an inexplicable ball of rage that made me impulsive, and deaf to every royal protocol I’d been taught and Myra’s voice calling after me. It was utterly stupid to confront him, and perhaps a quicker route to my grave, but I’d never known how to sit quietly. This put me in a lot of trouble with the Madame back at Yuva, and that spell seemed to have followed me here.

What did I have to lose anyway? It was the Princess’s name on the deck. An infamous troublemaker.