“Princess Chandrika. The baraat is here. Won’t you like to take a look at your groom? We can go to the balcony.” Chandrika’s best friend, Mrinalini, came to her.

“I have to see him all my life, Mrinalini. It’s not like I can reject him if I don’t like him.”

“Come on, Princess. You can’t be this skeptical on your wedding day. It’s the beginning of your new life. I’m sure the king will love you more than his other wives. Where will he find such a companion?”

“Oh yes! I will learn to live on scraps. And would learn how to fight for a bigger piece of it. Don’t worry, Mrinalini. I will live. You go ahead and do what you have to do. You don’t have the luxury of being a bride and sitting here doing nothing. You would have work to attend to.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. But princess, I hate to see you this sad. Like it or not, the days of jungle escapades are over. Please embrace your new life.”

Chandrika smiled. She realized that her bitterness was making her friend miserable. “Don’t worry, Mrinalini. I am fine. You go ahead and attend to your work. And once you come with me to my new home, I’m sure we’ll find a brave, nobleman for you too.”

“You jest, princess. I am not going there to find a husband for myself. I am going there so that I can keep you company. Anyway. I am off now.”

—

King Bhumimitra should have been happy. Finally, the day had come. The wedding that would seal the relationship of his kingdom Raigarh with that of the neighboring kingdom of Chandranagar was to happen today. He had camped near Chandranagar for four weeks. It had taken three weeks for the proud king of Chandranagar to see the point in making peace with the much stronger kingdom of Raigarh. Bhumimitra would have crushed any other kingdom of that size in a one-day battle. But Chandranagar was located strategically. Having it as an ally would be far more useful than having it as a crushed dominion. And what better way of making peaceful alliance and ensuring lifelong loyalty than to bind the two royal families with a relationship of matrimony? It was a tried and tested formula for centuries. Royal weddings were rarely about love and familial aspirations. They were about politics. Bhumimitra himself had been a groom thrice earlier. At other times he had asked for the hands of princesses for other members of his royal family and court, depending on the stature of the kingdom in question.

And yet, there was something that was bothering him this time. He didn’t know what, until his bride was brought to the mandap. He figured that he wasn’t as surprised as he should have been. The woman in the jungle had gotten to him. She had made him restless. And the more he thought about her, especially their last meeting, the more anxious he became. The similarities were uncanny. She was lamenting getting married to a rich, nobleman with three wives. Her marriage had been fixed on the same day when King Chandravarna of Chandranagar had accepted his proposal of peace and had agreed to marry his daughter to him. No wonder he wasn’t as surprised on finding the jungle-woman as his bride as he should have been.

But why was she not surprised? Did she know already… No! He realized that she wasn’t looking up. She hadn’t seen his face. He had been through this motion thrice. He had known that despite the shyness, the young brides could never suppress their curiosity and excitement about their grooms and they would invariably look up at least once. But there was no curious or excited bone in her. She was listless as she walked towards the mandap. People would have passed it off as her shyness, but Bhumimitra knew that she was extremely unhappy. He sighed! He hadn’t often thought about the situation from the point of view of women. It had just seemed like the way the world naturally worked and all parties accepted their roles in it. Until one day a princess challenged the appropriateness of such arrangements and passed on her anxiety to him!

—

The celebrations for welcoming her to Raigarh were over. Everyone had left her alone. Only Mrianlini was there. She would leave once the king’s arrival was announced. Chandrika thought about the last two tiring days. The pre-wedding rituals, the attempts to make her look even more beautiful than she already was, the night-long wedding ceremony, her crying relatives in the morning, her mother whispering some final words of advice into her ears, her getting on the palki – she should probably call it a royal palki – with her friends, her coming here, subjects of Raigarh welcoming her with showers of flower-petals, the singing and dancing all around, the welcome done by the first queen – the maharani – her rival from now on, the delightful music in the evening that she found tiresome… She remembered everything, except the face of her groom. She hadn’t looked up at him even once.  How long would it take before all this became history and the same subjects welcomed yet another queen? The fifth; then the sixth; and she became one of the thousand faces peeping from the royal windows and balconies? What would she do in the days to come? Please her husband in bed. Hope that she bears him a son. Plot and plan to get him the kingdom or at least a good position in the court. God forbid if she bore a daughter. How helpless would it feel for her to be given away one day just like this. To some king. He would take her away. Not with love. Not because he would need her. But because it would further his political ambitions. Oh God! Would she be able to do all of that? Starting with the antahpur-politics?

“Princess… Actually Queen Ma’am,” Mrinalini addressed her with a smile, “Won’t you…”

“Mrinalini. Please continue calling me Princess. It feels good,” Chandrika interrupted her.

“But it isn’t appropriate.”

“You know I don’t care. If you are scared of others, do whatever is appropriate in their presence. But in private, please let it be the old way. I want to stay in touch with my identity.”

“You have a new and respectable identity now. Why shy away from that?”

“Yeah,” Chandirka laughed sarcastically, “I know. A new identity. Fourth wife of a warring king. How respectable and unique.”

Mrinalini fell silent at that. How could she respond to her mistress’ cynicism? But she cared a lot about her. If only she had the power to give her a piece of mind… To her relief, however, Chandrika restarted the conversation, “Anyway. Don’t bother with my bitterness. You were saying something.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t you like to sit down on the bed? It’s quite late. His highness, the king, would be due anytime.” Chandrika was standing near the window and pacing up and down the room once in a while.

”He won’t come unannounced, Mrinalini. Kings never do. Don’t worry.”

“As you say Ma’am.”

A few minutes later, a deliberate coughing sound disturbed their respective reveries. Mrinalini saw him first. “His highness,” she bowed respectfully and sent a hurried glance Chandrika’s way. Then she rushed out of the room leaving them alone.

Chandrika stood there stupefied for a moment with her eyes downcast. This had happened unexpectedly. She was expecting someone to announce him.  But he had decided to be unconventional. Then she gained her wits back and bowed slightly with folded hands to welcome him. It was unavoidable after that. She had to look at him, at his face. She got a second shock within moments, this time a much bigger one than earlier. She almost stumbled in shock. He was not in a soldier’s uniform, but in a bright gown accompanied by all the rich jewelry. But there was no mistaking that sharp, strong face. The soldier from the jungle. King of Raigarh? Now her husband? What could all this mean for her? But she was a princess. She had been groomed to keep her grace even in the most strenuous circumstances. She managed not to lick her dry lips and collected herself together. “Pardon my unpreparedness His Highness. The honour of your arrival came unannounced.”

“Devi,” came a smiling voice to her, “I am sorry I startled you. But what I thought was right. You hadn’t seen my face through all the rituals of the last two days.”

“It would hardly become a bride to be doing that, Your Majesty. I am sure you are gracious enough to not blame me for that.”

“You must be tired. Why don’t you sit down?”

If she had been sitting on the bed already, it would have been a different matter. But now she was in the presence of the king. And some queens might actually become friendly and familiar with their husbands over time. But that wasn’t the case with them. She had to offer him a seat first.

“After you, Sir.”

“You do realize that I am here not as a king, but as your husband. And you are not my subject, but my wife.”

“And I have been taught since my childhood, Sir, that in royal households, a king is always a king first and anything else later. When it comes to choosing between your family’s and your subjects’ welfare, you would choose your subjects, won’t you?”

“You are too wise and learned to expect otherwise, Devi. But today, I don’t have to choose. I have taken some vows as your husband yesterday and I have been wondering how I would stand by them?”

A chill ran down her spine. Would he refer to her escapades now? Would he claim that she didn’t deserve to be his wife? That he would not stand by her as her husband? If something like that happened, the swords would be drawn. Her family would feel humiliated, they would retaliate and the subjects of Chandranagar would suffer the worst. She could not have that on her conscience. That was the reason she had agreed to this wedding. Without knowing that she was inviting more troubles. Through this internal storm, she maintained her outward calmness.

—

To be continued