The Cursed Princess of Suryagarh: Book 1

18. Heart-to-heart

He stepped away and went back to the side table, pouring himself another glass of whiskey from the semi-finished bottle, giving her enough space and privacy to fix the disorderly state of her outfit and let her absorb all the information.

Once the strap of her top was back in place, she frowned. "That's some crazy shit. Batshit crazy!"

He chuckled and swerved to face her, perceiving the flecks of red on her cheeks. "And that's how we knew who carries Meera's essence. All thanks to," he gulped down half the contents of his glass and winced, "the email you sent. Ten pages long email."

She let out a shallow breath. "Written correspondence."

"Mmm-hmmm." He took a deep breath. "And when you submitted your documents for verification, your date of birth tallied with the prediction too. Born on a night as dark as coal—a new moon night. Born in a city where the ocean meets the earth. Everything checked out."

A twinge of suspicion arose in her heart, and she felt discomfited. A blush crept up her cheeks again, and she fiddled with her bracelet. "And the... the mark? How did you... how did you know?"

He shrugged and sipped from his glass again, his orbs twinkling with mirth and amusement while a sly grin developed on his lips.

"Aarush!"

The stern intonation from her and the attempt to intimidate him via her big eyes shimmering with untapped fury was the reason behind the hearty laughter escaping his throat. "Is it my fault that you prefer tank tops and muddy sneakers? You waltzed into Suryagarh, announcing to one and all that you are the bearer of Meera's essence. One of the people in the inner circle promptly passed on the information."

She had more questions tumbling out of her mouth. "And who was this? The person from your inner circle?"

He grinned. "Do you need all the answers today, Princess? You still have three days worth of stay to explore the secrets and mysteries of this town." When she rolled her eyes, he took a deep breath. "It was my secretary. He saw you in the foyer as you proudly flaunted the chalice on your skin."

"So, this secretary of yours is in the inner circle too?"

He shrugged.

Her eyes narrowed at him, and she hissed. "Everyone but Shreya Awasthy is in this stupid inner circle, innit?"

With his head thrown back, he laughed. "Inner circle. Protectors. The team. Whatever you call it. These people have the best interests of Suryagarh at heart, and they have been associated with the throne for generations. It takes centuries to develop that kind of kinship."

She flashed her eyes at him. "Meera was associated centuries ago with the throne. Her essence qualifies to be in the inner circle."

"But she is a cheater. She betrayed the throne." And he regretted his words yet again, for they slipped out without his permission. He had barely ever lost control over the choice of words he put out, but in these two days, quite a handful number of times, he did authorize unwarranted discourse to come to the fore. Almost as if he was losing control and those walls in his heart... they were crushing down. Crumbling not because he was at fault but because the girl breathed and respired and existed so close to him. The cheater. The betrayer. The traitor. The backstabber. The beauty. The enigma. The exquisite, enchanting puzzle. Meera...

Her shoulders slumped, and her lips puckered. "You are right. Stupid girl, no? Cheated on the prince when she could've told him the truth."

He pursed his lips and took a second to absorb what she was saying. He had half expected her to fly off the handle, scream and shout, or at least display her emotions via the stream of tears that had cascaded down her cheeks only minutes ago. However, he was astounded to see her be so calm, so composed, so poised. Almost like he hadn't accused her of being a cheater. But then, in her defense, he hadn't really accused her of being a cheater. She didn't remember anything from Meera's life. Meera was as disjointed a person to her as any other princess of the bygone era. A myth. A fable. An anecdote to gossip over. He didn't really comprehend if the mere realization broke his heart or helped him heal. He could only remain standing at the spot, rooted, frozen.