The Village Girl

Chapter Twelve - [Aaryan]

The trip back to the palace took a total of twelve days consisting of short breaks only to rest ourselves and our horses. I was quite used to long trips such as this, but the recent turn of events had made me feel a little more restless and filled with a desire to get through all of this as fast as I possibly could.

Fortunately, I had a strong understanding of my own horses capabilities, knowing when he needed to rest and knowing not to push him too hard.

When we finally arrived in the capital state of Chandraba, Aathikara, I felt a calmness thanks to the sense of familiarity.

Aathikara was a glorious state, serving as a perfect representation of the power and wealth of Chandraba as a nation. Unlike Nandioor, Aathikara was filled with massive temples, great fortresses and beautiful gardens as well. Everywhere you turned, your eye would catch a remarkable structure of some sort.

To the left of the main Aathikara Southern Gate, for example, was the massive Simha Military Fortress, functioning as the headquarters and gathering place for all military related operations, as well as being where all the greatest warriors were trained. With massive grey stone walls covered in carvings of scenes displaying the victories of our previous kings, this fortress on its own easily surpassed the size of Nandioor.

Then, to the left of the gate, right next to the ocean was the Great Shivan Temple. Even more glorious than the fortress was this temple, nearly double the size of the fortress and housing just outside its tiered structure, a marble statue of Lord Shiva. This statue, featuring the most prominent god of our lands in a meditating position with his eyes closed, was so tall that it touched the sky and may have been the Lord himself, sitting there, meditating peacefully as the people of Aathikara continued on with their lives.

Finally, of course, there was the palace right ahead from the southern entrance.

The palace was smaller than the greatest sights of Aathikara, but a massive and stunning sight nonetheless. The entire palace was made mostly of marble, and anything that wasn't marble was plated in polished gold, making the building shimmer in the daytime and in the night. Looking close to the temple itself in terms of its multiple levels, the palace also had thousands of columns and windows around it, as well as many gorgeous gardens and opens places everywhere.

This palace was the pride of the Rudraraja clan, constructed by our ancestors many, many years ago. It was so glorious that people often bragged that it was a palace worthy only for the royal family as well as the gods themselves.

And this place... was my home.

When we entered the grounds of the palace, we were greeted by hundreds of bowing soldiers and servants. This was the usual scene we saw upon our arrival to the palace after a long trip. When we were close enough to the gate, my brother and I got off our horses, letting them be taken away by the stablemen, who bowed low when they approached us, and even as they walked off, not turning their back to us until they were a safe distance away.

Then we entered the palace.

The palace was lit mostly by natural light during the day thanks to all the open space and windows. It was this aspect of the palace that made the inside the most beautiful. We walked past lines of bowing servants before finally reaching the massive wooden doors of the throne room. As we approached, the guards opened the doors, revealing a beautiful, bright throne room. With an extremely high ceiling and massive open windows, the light poured through, making the polished stone floors and gold plated wall scenes shine.

My brother and I walked in, the eyes of all the nobles on us. To the left and the right of us, there were maybe fifty nobles, all standing and all wearing the loveliest of clothes to reflect the wealth and status they held. Along the walkway which led to the throne, were ten stone chairs for the highest of nobles to sit at, five on each side of us. Even those men, with their long beards and wrinkled features, bowed low for my brother and I.

And then there were my parents, of course.

The king and queen were raised high on a dias, sitting on the same, large golden throne together. There were two young women on each side of them, wearing beautiful silk sari's and fanning the king and the queen with massive leaves, but bowing their heads for us nonetheless.

On the right hand side of the king stood my three younger brothers, two of them, one eighteen years of age and the other seventeen, stood with stone cold expressions while the youngest, at twelve years of age, grinned widely.

My father, as he often did, held a straight face as we reached him. His gaze was not unkind, nor was it extremely friendly. At one time my father had been a mighty king and a ferocious warrior. A statue of him graced the east garden of the palace, displaying a tall, straight backed, handsome warrior with broad shoulders and a strong gaze. Now, however, he had softened.

Age had gotten the best of my father, though he was not that old, causing him to gain some weight and hunch forward. His long hair was mostly grey, including his well trimmed moustache and beard. But more than his looks, however, it was his eyes that made him look older.

The mighty King Aadhiraraavanan of the Rudraraja family had grown tired. His tired eyes made him look decades older, despite only being fifty years of age. He was no longer the fearsome warrior that was shown in the gardens of our palace.

But it seemed like he did not mind that.

My mother, however, did not seem to age at all. Despite being only a couple years younger than my father, she looked to be half is age. She had long black hair, the top half rolled around the top of her head and covered with gold bands to look like a crown and the bottom half braided tightly and falling over her shoulder.

My mother loved gold, to a point where she would even wear it in her hair. Her hair was filled with gold, such as little gold buttons that were stuck into her braid and extravagant gold matha patti that sat on her head. And on her forehead sat a large gold tikka that had tiny rubies stuck within them.

Her eyes were dark, like mine, but they looked even darker as they were lined with thick black. Her skin was extremely fair, as most women of the north were, different from my darker copper skin. She was tall and thin, and like in her hair, wore as much gold on her body as she could. Her arms were covered with gold bangles, on her legs, she wore gold anklets and of course, she wore massive gold earrings. Her sari's were almost always red, and over it sat the chains of her four necklaces and a waist chain which also had pearls dangling on it.

Sometimes, I wondered how this woman was able to walk under all the weight of her gold.

My mother was a selfish person. I had always known that.

Coming from a wealthy northern family of nobles, she grew up spoiled rotten, and when she married my father she expected nothing less. As a child, I saw that my father refused her requests more often than not, however, as he aged he began to crumble. It didn't help that my mother always had a way of getting what she wanted. No one could refuse her, and if they did, she would find another way to get whatever it was that she wanted.

She also expected complete and utter respect from everyone... which was exactly why she outwardly did not appreciate me, her eldest son, much at all.

She knew that I knew about her selfish nature. She knew that I judged her.

She also knew that if I became king, her games would end.

And for that, she was sometimes rather cold with me. Not that it mattered much to me. Of course, I did love her, as a son should love his mother, and I was certain that she loved me, as a mother should love her son. But the tension was often obvious, and my lack of patience for foolishness furthered that rift.

She smiled when we reached them, and when we bowed, she spoke. "My sons," she said. "Welcome home."

When we rose, we saw my father sigh, more in relief than anything else.

"We came as fast as we could," my brother said. "You said it was urgent?"

"Yes," my father said. "We have rebels rising up in the west and needed you two back to regroup and figure out a plan."

"Rebels?" My brother asked in surprise. I was surprised too. At least from what we saw, it was quite peaceful out in the West.

"The southern states are rising up, and trying to get as many supporters as possible," my father said. "Though if we stay on top of things then we have nothing to fear."

We would stay on top of things. We always did. This was exactly why we were so powerful.

"For now, my sons, go rest," my father said. "Your trip must have been long and challenging. We will meet and discuss first thing in the morning tomorrow."

My brother and I bowed, but as we turned around and began walking off, my mother called me. "Aaryaraavanan," she called. "One moment."

I turned around.

"Once you have cleaned yourself up, please come see your father and I in his chambers at sunset," she smiled at me. "We have important matters to discuss."

"Yes, mother," I bowed once more before turning and heading off.

...

I spent my evening cleaning myself up after being months away from my home. My beard was trimmed and my hair was cut, my nails were cleaned and my unhealed scars treated.

Once I looked a little bit more like a prince, I went for my evening bath... my favourite time of the day.

I was sitting in the warm water, arms spread out along the edge of the large square tub that sat as a hole in the floor of my bathing room. It was prepared for me with warm, steaming water and flower petals as well, filling me with a sense of relaxation.

I took a deep breath and sighed. It felt like so long since I had taken a relaxing bath.

I always did most of my thinking in the bath, so today, I spent my time thinking of Seetha.

It had been nearly half a month since I had seen her and it was unbelievable how restless I was getting as I wondered what she was doing. Maybe she was getting a new story ready for her next trip to the village square, or maybe she was walking that cow of hers.

But... whatever it was she was doing, I wanted to hurry back to her. I wanted to embrace her again, to feel her skin against mine like that afternoon on the lake.

I shook my head, feeling crazy.

What had gotten into me?

There was the threat of rebels in the West and I was thinking about a woman. I was truly beginning to lose my mind.

When I got out of the bath, the servants came running in to drain the tub. They were supposed to help me get dressed, but I preferred to do that on my own. So instead, they rushed right past me and straight to the tub.

After drying myself, I slipped into my red silk trousers on my own and tied my green sash around my waist. After slipping the scabbard into my sash, I slid my sword into it and then picked up the folded, green, silk shawl. After throwing the shawl over one of my shoulders, I began to walk out of the room.

It was difficult to wear a full kuruta in Aathikara as it was nearly always extremely warm. So instead, usually us men wore trousers over our legs and a shawl over our shoulders, our chests bare so we could keep cool. The women here, however, were much more tolerant of the heat, managing to wear full sari's despite the humidity.

It was much cooler in Nandioor, especially in the night. But it made sense, seeing as it was not only in the west, but it was also a little more up north than we were. It was one of the very few things that made me prefer Nandioor over Aathikara.

As I left my wing of the palace and crossed the garden to my parent's wing, I noticed that the moon had already began to rise into the sky, the sun, on the other side, nearly vanishing. So I hurried a little, knowing my parents did not like to be kept waiting.

When I arrived, my mother was walking around the room while my father read some scrolls at his desk.

As it was late, my mother had dressed down into a slightly simpler sari. The gold from her hair had been near to completely removed, aside from a simple gold tikka sitting against her forehead. She still wore her gold bangles and arm bands and as she paced back and forth, she fiddled with her now loosened braid.

My father noticed me first from his seat at his desk. "Son," he said.

When my mother turned and noticed me, her smile grew. "Perfectly on time as always."

I walked right over to her, bending over and touching her feet and then my chest in respect. "My apologies for rushing out earlier," I said. "I was quite exhausted."

"It is fine, my son," she said as she took my face in her hands. She pulled me down and kissed my forehead. "It has been too long... I do not know how I manage without my boys."

I smiled at her.

My father rose, "we have some matters to discuss with you, Aaryan."

When I turned to him, he was walking towards us.

"We have nothing to fear with these rebels, however we do not want to destroy any more relationships than we already have in the West."

I nodded. This was part of the reason my father wanted us at the Western Fort, our presence there was to promote stability. Furthermore, the Western leaders found it an act of respect for us to be there.

"So Lord Thiruvan has offered his daughter as a bride for you," my mother said, excitedly. "She is absolutely the most beautiful girl I have ever seen!"

My eyes narrowed.

"We did not send our response to him as we wanted your approval first," my father said, "I know you're quite particular about your women."

"We were sent a painting of her," she said, taking my hand in hers. "Come see it, will you-"

"Mother," I said, "I apologize but I cannot marry her."

Both my parents had an immediate look of shock.

"Cannot?" My mother questioned.

I understood their shock. Usually I never questioned their requests, especially those in regards to my marriage, let alone denied them.

"Yes," I said. "I cannot."

"Why ever not?" She asked, taking my hand.

"I..." I took a deep breath. I as never one to beat around the bush, so I decided to be straight with them. "I am interested in another woman."

Both of them stared at me, before taking a moment to look at each other. After a moment, my mother spoke up. "My son is love struck?" She asked. She looked a little nervous. "Who is this lucky princess?"

"She is not a princess," I held my head up high as I spoke.

"Oh?" My father asked.

"She is from Nandioor," I said.

"From the Western Fort?" My father looked confused.

"From the village next to the Western Fort," I clarified.

My father's eyes widened and my mother looked at me with disbelief. "A village girl?" She practically spat.

"Yes," I said. "Her name is Seetha, and I wish to one day marry her."

My mother scoffed. "A village-" she cut herself off, shaking her head. "You are of noble birth, a Warrior Prince, and you are asking-"

"I have never asked you for anything before, mother. Not once in my life-"

"That is because you already have everything," she countered.

"Nonetheless I asked for none of it."

She shook her head. "You refuse to wed a beautiful princess for a village girl?"

"She is intelligent," I said. "And I admire her tremendously. I do not truly understand it but all I know is I hope to someday marry this girl, and I ask that you allow me to bring her to the palace-"

"Absolutely not, you can not-"

"Niranjana," my father interjected, looking at my mother. "That's enough."

My mother stared back at him. "Maharaja, I-"

"Bring her," my father said, turning to me. "Once we have settled everything in the west, though. I would like to meet this village girl who has enchanted my stone hearted son." He smiled a warm smile at me.

I was quite surprised. I did not think it would be so easy, but when I took a glance at my mother, she seemed to be fuming. Maybe I was speaking too soon.

Nonetheless, I bowed respectfully. "Thank you, father,"

"That does not mean I am agreeing to a wedding though," he said. "I wish to meet this girl and evaluate her intentions. Then we will see what to do next."

I nodded. "I understand."

"And Lord Thiruvan?" My mother asked. Her voice had risen a couple pitches, as it often did when she was mad. "What do we tell him?"

"We tell him that we appreciate his kind offer, but our son has already chosen someone for himself."

"This is outrageous!" My mother shouted. "What will happen to the name my son has made for himself if he associates himself with-"

"Let us give her a chance, my queen," my father said. "Our son is smart. I trust every choice he makes when we are in the middle of a battlefield... a choice that will affect thousands of lives, including my own. Why, then, should I not trust his choice when it comes to his own life?"

That took me by surprise, and my mother seemed to be silenced by that. However, she did try to think of something to say.

Before she could though, my father looked at me. "Once we have cleared the tensions in the west, being her to the palace. Let us meet her," he said. "For now, go rest, you had a long trip."

I bowed my head. "Thank you, father."

Before I left, I exchanged a look with my fuming mother. She seemed to be trying her hardest to get me to understand her anger. However I knew this had more to do with her wanting to have her way rather than my name, so I left, ignoring my mothers anger.

And when I slept, I slept in peace, feeling both relieved and satisfied.