The Cursed Princess of Suryagarh: Book 1

11. Family

She was unable to keep looking at the animalistic shimmer in his orbs, and she glimpsed away. The warning bells in her mind, always telling her to ask less and prod less, went off to become a cacophonous jingle of an out-of-tune string of melody that caused a headache, and she held her head in her hands, shut her eyes, and tried drowning the words of caution her sixth sense was sending her way. The primal need to know more about him, his lineage, his family, the curse, Suryagarh, and his extended relatives was too raw and too potent for anything else to matter. Not even her best friend's name flashing on the screen of the vibrating device in her hands. "The boyfriend was killed because... because he dared to fall in love with a princess?"

"Not at all." He languorously stood up and stretched his arms, the coolness from earlier returning to his countenance. "He was killed because he dared to fall in love with a particular princess. He dared steal what belonged to the prince. His death sentence was signed the moment he laid his eyes on the girl."

She pursed her lips, but before she could ask any more of the numerous questions running hither and thither in her mind, she saw a servant rush up to the living room and tidy it, sweeping the broken shards of the showpiece and discarding them in the plastic bag he was carrying. Another woman clad in a well-pleated yellow saree sauntered to the living area with a tray full of snacks and tea in her hands, and Shreya realized it was already four in the evening.

Once the servants were out of earshot after placing the tray on the table, along with the crumpled newspaper Aarush had earlier flung, she glanced at the prince but was taken aback because of the zeal in his gaze as he peered at her. Heated but soft. Restless but calm. Agitated but serene. So very delicious!

She groaned at the strange thought and muttered under her breath, "Shreya Awasthy! Get your mind out of the sewer."

"Did you say something, Princess?"

She flashed a vibrant smile at him and twirled the bracelet around her wrist. "Who is Elder Woman?"

He grinned. "Shouldn't the question be 'What is Elder Woman?'?"

The air of nonchalance with which he posed the question coerced her into believing she had made a mistake again. "Oh right. What is Elder Woman?" Until realization sank, and she groaned and whined. "Mr. Chauhan!" she cried. "Aren't you mean!"

He chortled. "Elder Woman is a title. Given to the eldest daughter of the family." He gestured at the tray on the centre table. "Tea? Suryagarh's tea is very famous. You should try."

She was not very fond of the beverage, but because he was finally answering some queries, she wished to prolong the conversation. So, she picked up a teacup and glimpsed at him with a smile. But she was unsettled instantly, and knots formed inside her stomach. The way he was still gazing at her with those impassioned eyes almost as if she was a priceless and exquisite piece of art, she forgot how to breathe for a moment. "Elder Woman belongs to which family?"

A genuine and affable smile formed on his lips. "You and your never-ending questions." He picked up a cup of tea for himself. "Just a family we know. Family friends, if you may."

She sipped from the cup and marvelled at the medley of the flavours of ginger and cardamom playing on her tongue. He was not wrong. This beverage deserved to be famous. The headache throbbing at the back of her head was instantaneously sated, and she felt alive and fresh again. "Did your head priest call you back?"

"Did you see me receive any calls in the last hour of your incessant yapping?"

Her mouth hung open. "When did I yap? You were the one talking and getting angry at me for no reason and flinging stuff around and breaking stuff and screaming at me and not telling me anything and—"