The Mosquito and the Lion

nine

Alia bit back a moan as she inhaled the sweet rice. The rice, colored yellow with saffron, was cooked in syrup, alongside raisins, cashews, and shredded coconut. Expensive ingredients, which meant she could never afford the dessert in Toshalwar.

Vikram and Nandini had finished their plates with as much speed as Alia. "To Arjun!" Alia lifted her final spoonful in a mock toast before cleaning off her plate as well.

"I'm still not sure how comfortable I am with stealing," Nandini grumbled. "And he seemed like a nice man!"

Alia teased, "You seemed very comfortable when you were devouring the sweet rice." Nandini pursed her lips in disapproval, but could not argue. "Besides," Alia continued, waving her hand, "He was an elitist ass."

"How could you possibly know that?" Nandini sighed, putting her hands on her hips. She had taken to doing that recently, as if she were Alia's older sister. Alia wasn't sure she minded.

Vikram answered for her. "The way he walked, like these streets were beneath him. Like he was better than everyone."

Alia was surprised the Kshat guard had noticed. Perhaps he was more than just his brawny strength.

Which reminded her.

"You didn't need to shove me that hard by the way." She rubbed her shoulder for effect. In truth, it didn't hurt. Alia doubted it would even bruise. But she didn't like the way she had been thrust into Arjun's arms, the way her breath hitched when she felt his rough hands hold her up, when she caught his sweet scent.

Vikram shrugged, a smirk toying at his lips. "You didn't seem to mind."

She scowled at him, taking their plates and throwing them in the bin. They were sitting at a table by the food cart, hidden within the noises and general hubbub of Purti. The city wasn't as frantic or indulgent as Toshalwar, but it did remind her of home.

Alia inhaled deeply, relishing the smells of cigarette smoke and sweat. It smelled like freedom, like running through the rafters and swindling traders, like spending the day picking mangoes off noblemen's trees until every part of you was sticky from the juice.

"He was cute," Nandini added, as if it were an afterthought, but Alia was no fool. She knew they were trying to rile her up. Despite knowing their intentions, she was embarrassed to admit it was working.

"I hadn't noticed."

She had noticed. Everything. His black hair curling around his ear. His dark eyes glinting in the moonlight. His honest smile.

Alia still thought he was an elitist ass, though. Just a handsome elitist ass.

"I didn't even know you could be that charming," Vikram teased, crossing his unreasonably large arms across his unreasonably broad torso. He really was a brute.

"You know, you could just say thank you. Here, let's practice. 'Thank you Alia for this lovely meal.'"

"Thank you Alia for this lovely meal." Vikram and Nandini deadpanned in unison, both looking awfully pleased with themselves.

Alia sighed, pressing her palms into the table to push herself to her feet, the wood burying tiny splinters into her skin. "Fine, next time, one of you gets to rob the cute man."

"Hah!" Nandini laughed, pointing her finger at Alia. "You admit it! You think he's cute," she sang.

"Fine! A cute man with empty pockets and an ego the size of the moon. Can we go now?" Exasperated, Alia longed for the days when they traveled in silence. Somehow, and far too quickly, the two had wriggled their way into her life.