Indravati sat in silence, her thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a gust of wind. Regret gnawed at her, a persistent ache in her chest. She hadn't meant to hurt Jack; her intentions had been innocent, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that her actions had crossed a line.
Naming him had seemed like a playful gesture at first, a way to forge a bond, but now it felt condescending. She imagined Jack's reaction—how he must have felt reduced to something less than human, as if she were bestowing upon him a title meant for a pet. The thought made her stomach churn.
Indravati took a deep breath, her mind racing as she tried to find a way to make things right. She knew she needed to talk to him, to apologize and explain that her choice of name was meant to be affectionate, not demeaning.
Indra knew she couldn't linger. She had to apologize to Jack and clear the air. Taking a deep breath, she made her way to his room, determined to make amends.
As she walked through the corridor, her mother, Mithila, Lord's wife, suddenly appeared, blocking her path.
"Where are you going, Indra?" Mithila asked, her smile warm but her eyes piercing.
Indra's heart skipped a beat. "Mother, what are you doing here?" She tried to sound casual, but her voice betrayed her surprise. Mithila rarely left the main palace.
Mithila's gaze narrowed. "I asked first. What brings the Princess of Ranthoregarh to this humble place?" Her tone hinted at amusement, but Indra sensed a deeper inquiry.
Indra hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "Mother, I just... umm... lost my way." She fumbled, knowing her mother would see through the lie.
Mithila's eyes sparkled with knowing. "Don't lie, Indra. Your eyes betray you. You've always been transparent, my child."
Just in time, Mala intervened, saving Indra from further scrutiny. "Your Highness is here to see me."
Mithila's brow rose, intrigued. "For what?"
Indra seized the opportunity. "I sought Mala's expertise in sewing designs. I want to learn embroidery, and I wanted to hid it from you since I want to gift an embroidered handkerchief on you coming birthday."
Mithila was happy to hear that her daughter wants to learn something that she hates only to give a present to her mother.
Mithila nodded, her expression approving. "Ohh, Learn it well okay. Mala, teach her craftsmanship. It's time Indra developed some feminine skills, and I will be waiting for your gift."
As Mithila departed, Indra and Mala shared a knowing glance.
"Shall we start, Princess?" Mala asked, her smile mischievous.
Indra's face contorted. "Start what?"
"Embroidery, of course," Mala teased, aware of Indra's distaste.
Indra's groan echoed through the corridor. "Uh! NOOOOO!"
In the evening...
The soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting warm golden hues across the room. Both Mala and Indra sat together in a space that seemed to be crafted from a dream—walls adorned with vibrant blooms, their colors rich and deep, mixing with the fragrance of jasmine and rose. The air was fragrant, and the delicate rustling of silk curtains added a gentle, soothing sound to the atmosphere.
"Umm… uh… oh… ahhhhhhh!" Indra exclaimed, frustration etched on her face as she struggled with the embroidery needle.
"Princess, please stop making stupid sounds," Mala interrupted, blushing at Indra's antics.
"Ahhh! I can't do this," Indra declared, motivation dwindling as she tossed the needle aside.
"Princess, you should at least try," Mala encouraged, sipping her tea and nodding toward the abandoned needle.
"No, this isn't even made for me. I've been doing this for hours, and nothing's happening," Indra protested, fed up with the tedious embroidery.
"It's only been ten minutes since you started poking that needle into the cloth, Princess," Mala said with a straight face, hiding a smile.
"Oh, come on! You know I don't like this," Indra insisted, pouting.
"This is what you get for lying, Princess," Mala teased, raising an eyebrow.
"I wasn't trying to lie; it's just... you know," Indra trailed off, unable to reveal her true intentions.
"So, are things going well with that foreigner boy?" Mala inquired, as if reading Indra's thoughts.
"No, wait... how do you... know?" Indra asked, secrets potentially exposed, her eyes widening.
"I know everything, Princess. I even know whom you were hiding that night and even who you went with to the carnival," Mala revealed, a sly grin spreading.
"Oh, Mala, please! Please don't tell Mother. Please, I request you," Indra pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.
"Let me think... hmm," Mala pondered, tapping her chin.
"Please!" Indra emotionally blackmailed, clasping her hands.
"Okay, I won't," Mala relented, smiling.
"Oh, really? Thank you, Mala! Thank you so much. You're the best!" Indra exclaimed, hugging Mala tightly.
Mala murmured, "If I wanted to tell, I would have."
"Sorry," Indra replied, not hearing Mala's comment.
"Okay, okay, Princess, quit it," Mala said, laughing.
"Oh, Mala, you saved me big time. Now tell me, and I'll do anything you want me to do," Indra promised impulsively.
"Okay, Princess, then you should not engage yourself with that foreigner anymore," Mala demanded, eyes locked on Indra.
"But Mala," Indra hesitated, uncertainty flickering.
"You promised you'd do anything, Princess," Mala reminded, her gaze unwavering.
"I cannot give a promise I can't keep, Mala," Indra declared, her emerald eyes shining with truth and pride.
Mala felt overwhelmed by Indra's resolute gaze.
"Haah! Now we can't do anything about it, can we?" Mala conceded, defeated.
"It's the age where people start developing interest in others, isn't it?" Mala teased, a sly glint.
"Hmm, no wait... It's not like that. I just see him as a friend," Indra stuttered, blushing.
"Hmm, I know," Mala said skeptically, raising an eyebrow.
"No, Mala, you're getting the wrong idea. It's not like that," Indra protested, frustration creeping.
"Yes, Princess. Now, shall we see what you've done till now?" Mala asked, examining Indra's embroidery.
"What is this?" Mala inquired, confusion etched.
"It's a peacock," Indra replied, attempting confidence.
"A peacock? I know I'm old, but even I know there's nothing on the cloth, Princess, other than these green marks," Mala chuckled.
"It flew," Indra mumbled, sheepish.
"What?" Mala asked, amusement sparkling.
"I said it flew, hehehe," Indra giggled and ran away.
"No, wait... Princess! PRINCESS, COME BACK!" Mala shouted, exasperated.
"Nooooo! I'm not doing ittttttttt!" Indra yelled, escaping from Mala.
To be continued.....