Chandrika paced inside her tent. She had driven all her companions crazy that day with her mood swings and tempers. They were standing huddled at a distance, fearful of what the next outburst would bring. She knew that at least five messengers had come from the battle field to the camp. Every time they came she had sent a messenger to get some news of Bhumimitra. Every time her messenger had come back without any concrete information. “Maharaj was fine” could have meant that he was actually fine. But it could as easily have been a standard message to avoid any panic If there was indeed something wrong. All the other news of how bloody the fight was that day was reaching her unfiltered. Just no news of the one person she was interested in.

Tired of pacing, she slumped into an armchair.

Bhumimitra barged in unannounced. Chandrika jumped out of the chair she had occupied barely a moment ago and it took all her grooming in gracefulness to not scream out loud. But her restraint slipped again, and she ran towards him.

“Maharaj!” she exclaimed, panting, and stopped short of running into him. “You are injured?” she looked at the bandage on his left upper-arm. His chest and forearms also showed signs of minor injuries on which a healing paste had been applied. Overall though, she slowly realized, he was indeed fine and no great harm had come to him.

“You were worried about me?” his eyes threatened to penetrate her very soul.

She gulped and didn’t reply.

“You sent for me five times, I am told. Why?” he pressed on.

“The news from the frontier was terrifying. I am under your protection right now, Maharaj,” she found her voice and an excuse of a reply too, “You are my lord today. And I have been taught to be loyal to my–”

“A lesson you don’t care a whit about,” he interrupted and stepped closer to her. She stood glued to her place, “You didn’t flinch when your father was deposed. Your most legitimate lord who deserved your loyalty the most. In fact, you deposed him. No. You don’t feel loyalty for your lord, Chandrika. Love, however,” he reached out and cupped her face, “Is a different beast. And it attacks a republican heart as easily as it does a monarch’s.” He pressed his lips on hers, she did not stop him, and her companions quietly left the room.

—

He woke up with a feeling of well-being that he hadn’t felt in years. Not since taking over the reign of his kingdom. It was ridiculous to feel this relaxed in a war camp at the frontier. He recalled the night of frantic, followed by languorous, love-making with his republican princess and his lips stretched into a grin. Some food had been brought to them. But he hardly remembered eating anything. He had also sent a message to his men that the war council meeting will be held before sunrise. So, they all should go to bed early and be ready to be woken up earlier than usual. Perhaps it was time to send them the summons. But before that– His hands stretched and sought her out on the other side of the bed. But her side was empty.

He sat up immediately, his hands on the dagger that he had remembered to sleep with even after indulging in blinding passion through the evening. Where was he? Had he only dreamed of the passionate encounter? It was still dark and the only light was coming from an almost dying earthen lamp in the far corner of the tent. It was not his tent. He was definitely inside hers. He looked around hurriedly and soon made out a shape lying on the armchair from which last evening he had seen the same shape jumping out on his unannounced arrival. He threw off the bedcover and rushed there. “Chandrika!” he held her head and turned it so that he could look at her, “What’s wrong?” Even in the dim light he could see that she was sweating and was breathing with difficulty. “God, what’s going on? Did I hurt you? I will call the Rajvaidya–”

“It’s too late, Maharaj,” she spoke with a lot of effort, “And it is by design. I must die.”

“No. You must not. Why must you die? Stay with me,” he held her hands and shouted out to his attendants.

“Maharaj!” Two of them came running in.

“Call the Rajvaidya immediately. Princess Chandrika is unwell. She must be attended to right away.”

“Yes, Maharaj,” they ran out.

“I wish you wouldn’t trouble Rajvaidya at this hour. He can’t do anything. Let me say this while I still can. You are a brave and just man. If monarchy could ensure that all rulers were like you, it needn’t have been challenged. If republics could create rulers like you, they would become successful. So, I’m not ashamed to have loved you. Still, I die a republican, Maharaj. I never gave up on my principles. But for a woman– oh, I can’t say it all. I don’t have much time left. There is a letter for you. I have made a small request and having known you as well as I do now, I am sure that you will honor my request. I die a republican. And I die loving you. I am happy about both. I die happy. Please forgive me that one night was all I had to give to you.”

“Stay with me, Princess — Devi Chandrika. Rajvaidya will be here any minute. Chandrika. What have you done to yourself, my love? Did you swallow a poison? You must know the antidote to it. Please tell me what it is–”

“May you have a long and happy life, Maharaj.”

The monumental, unbridgeable difference between life and death is just of a moment, Bhumimitra realized. He had seen numerous deaths in the battlefield. He had also been present through the deaths of his parents and many other family members. But it was the first time he had really known it. He would never forget the exact moment, when her hands in his clutches turned lifeless. They were weak even while alive. But the coldness of death was distinct!

He settled her as gracefully as he could manage on the chair. Then picked up the letter she had pointed towards.

She had addressed him as just “Priya” – beloved – in her letter. No salutation, no greetings for Maharaj. Just “Priya”. The first paragraph repeated what she had already told him. But the second tore his heart apart.

“If my love and my principles were not a conflict for me, why must I die, you may be asking yourself. It is because I am a woman. Nobody will question your support of monarchy because of your passion for me. But as a woman, if I surrender my love to you, it will be assumed that I have surrendered my cause to you as well. It is a sad state of affairs. But that’s how the world is. And I won’t be able to live on love if I am seen as betraying my cause. So, I must go, my beloved. And I go in the belief that the man I loved is a man of principles. He may win his cause, but he will do so fair and square. He will win it in a war or in a debate. He will not employ the underhand trick of discrediting me and through that my cause. So, I go trusting that since I am asking you for it, you will ensure that the world will not come to know of this brief, but precious relationship we had. That I will not become a discredit to my cause at your hands. I go, my beloved, in the hope that in the next birth we meet under less adversarial circumstances.”

“Maharaj!” Bhumimitra hardly had had the time to mop over the letter when another attendant barged in.

“Rajvaidya!” he stood up, glad that the dimly lit room would hide the moistness in his eyes.

“No Maharaj! A messenger from Chandranagar.”

“He wants an audience now?”

“Yes, Maharaj. It is urgent, he says.”

Bhumimitra threw a distressed glance at Chandrika’s cold form lying on the chair, then stepped out. “I will speak to him in the waiting room.”

—

Raigarh State Archives for the day read:

“Hours before sunrise, a messenger from Chandranagar brought the news of a conspiracy against King Chandravarna. The culprits were not the republicans, but the rival royal faction led by the King’s nephew. They had imprisoned the King. The news of her father’s misfortune shocked Princess Chandrika. Even if her political inclinations were republican she had always been devoted to her father. Without her devotion, during the brief republican rule in Chandranagar, her father’s life would not have been spared. That he should now be threatened by his own brethren distressed her so much that she fell fatally ill and breathed her last an hour later.

This news also warranted Maharaj Bhumimitra’s speedy return from the frontier. The war council decided to go an all-out offensive like that of the previous day. At the end of that day’s fighting, the enemies were pushed deep into their territory. Leaving a small force to guard the border, Maharaj decided to head back with the remaining army.

It was also decided to open negotiations with the republicans in Chandranagar to support their rule in return for the safe extraction of King Chandravarna and their promise to limit their sphere of influence exactly to the currently accepted boundaries of the kingdom of Chandranagar.”

– The End –