Chapter 46 - The Royal Ball
She gazed at him, but his eyes were fixed on the vast land stretching beyond the cliff. There was a majesty in standing there, amidst the endless horizon.
In that moment, she wondered—was she truly a queen? The voice within her mind whispered truths she was not yet ready to acknowledge.
"Why do we refuse to attend the ball?" she asked at last, addressing the unspoken matter.
Why would he deny an opportunity that could bring prosperity to both kingdoms?
He turned to her, his expression unreadable. "You do not know what schemes are being woven against you, merely because of my presence, within those walls."
"And you do?" she pressed. "Then tell me, for that is why I ask. Explain it to me."
He strode toward the edge of the cliff, standing at the very precipice. Summoning her courage, she followed, peering down at the dense, ancient forests that filled the valley below.
"I do not understand," she said at last. "Why must we make enemies where there are none? They do not oppose you, yet by this refusal, you force their hand."
"They are my enemies," he snapped, his voice sharp as steel.
"I wonder whose enemy you speak of—yours or that of the fallen kingdom?"
His gaze held hers. "I serve the land that is my birthright, the land that belongs to my people. I will defend it, no matter the cost. You are a queen, and I may be your bodyguard today. My people and I may be bound in servitude to Tapti. But I am still the prince of Yamin. Annexed or not, I shall not forsake it."
She let out a wry smile. "Truly?"
Inwardly, she seethed. He was her friend, yet there were moments when he made no sense at all. His words and intentions eluded her.
He calls this protection? And what of the torment the queen must endure?
She had tried to speak, yet he would not hear her. To him, she was not the true queen. Perhaps, in his eyes, she was still an outsider—someone who did not belong, who could never comprehend the ways of this world.
At the very least, he could pretend to listen. But he would not. His gaze remained fixed upon the valley, ever watchful.
Like a hawk, he perceived what others could not. Even from this height, he could discern the movements within the dense forest below.
Abhilasha possessed the same ability, yet it always unsettled her. She avoided looking at the forests, avoided the memories they stirred—the tearful song, the nightmare that haunted her.
She studied him carefully. What was he thinking? His face revealed nothing.
A scoff escaped him as he noticed the tendrils of smoke rising from beyond the valley. "Such shameless creatures. They ravage the land, torment its people, and then seek to forge peace with the same hands that wrought destruction. Do you truly believe people such as these will not strike again?"
She was queen of that land—the very land he now scorned. Yet even she knew she was but a pawn in his grander game.
To the best of her knowledge, she was doing what was right—helping him to free his people from Tapti's grasp.
All she wished for was to return home.
He had been her most trusted companion in this unfamiliar world. But in the years that followed, the titles they bore—Queen and Bodyguard—had forged a chasm between them, shrouding their intentions in secrecy.
She glanced around. Who knew what unseen eyes lurked nearby? The creatures of this land—great and powerful—would not take kindly to the presence of one who did not belong. The valley's depths were home to the serpentine guardians of Yamin, ancient and formidable.
She could not risk angering them. She was only human, while they were something far more.
"Shall we leave?" she asked at last.
*He too had observed the movements which she did. He was aware it sacred her. *
He assured her, "They do not mind." His voice was quiet, unwavering.
Then his eyes followed the smoke rising in the distance. "They hold feasts—for what?" He muttered under his breath, "For burning villages? For spilling innocent blood? And yet, you would walk into their halls, attend their coronation." He turned to her, gaze piercing. "Remember well the nature of those you call your subjects. Do their songs of conquest not stir your fury?"
"I am not of this land," Abhilasha said. "I hold this throne but for a time. If my blood boils, it is only for those I hold dear—for you, for Chandramukha. Why should I tether my heart to people who mean nothing to me?"
He regarded her in silence. She had expected approval. Instead, he was disappointed.
"How can you say such a thing? Do their lives mean nothing to you?"
"Do they mean anything to you, if they are not your people?" she countered.
"You are their queen," he reminded her. "You should understand."
Here lay his hypocrisy. When it suited him, she was queen. When it did not, she was merely a stranger in another's skin.
"I am Abhilasha," she said, "In the body of a queen."
He did not respond.
He turned away, striding from the cliff's edge. This valley, at least, remained safe, and he would guard it with his very life. Half of Yamin was lost, but this—this was its heart. He would never yield it to an enemy.
The serpents of Yamin were not ordinary creatures. This land had always belonged to both humans and their serpentine kin. Though the latter dwelled beneath the earth, their blood was the same.
Not a single Yaminian had ever perished from a serpent's bite, nor had any human raised a hand against them.
That was Yamin's law.
But for Tapti? If one of their kind survived a serpent's venom, it meant only one thing—they shared Yamin's blood.
Tapti and Yamin were two great branches of the mighty land of Tarish. Tapti had always been the capital, yet Yamin had flourished alongside it—until a decade ago, when half of its lands were seized by its brother kingdom.
Bhanu looked at her. "Stay there." His voice was measured, deliberate. "I know I ask for the impossible. But remain in Tapti as its queen. Do not act foolishly in my absence. We walk different paths, you and I. Your fate is to return home. Mine is to free my people from this bondage."
"Does Chandramukha know of this? Have you spoken with him?"
"He should listen to me," Mitrabhanu said. "He is in Yamin. And I am its prince."
"And yet, you are also my bodyguard," she reminded him. "And as long as Yamin is under Tapti's rule, I am your queen."
"Calling it rule is an insult to truth," Bhanu said.
He stopped, his gaze locked onto hers. "And you are not my queen." His voice was soft, but resolute. "You may do as you must. But I will not let you ruin Yamin. You do not understand what is at stake. You will promise to stay out of it."
She walked beside him. "I understand more than you think."
"Every fool believes that."
She sighed, glancing down, careful not to step on any unseen serpents. "A royal ball will be held in the valley fort of Tapti. The prince of Yamin is expected. Will he refuse his queen's invitation?"
He did not waver. "I decline the invitation to the royal ball. I shall not be there. And you will not use your influence to compel me."