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"What's to be done with you KunwarSa?"
"Whatever Samrat deems me worthy of."
Will spat out. Now that the Graham district, the district of his birth land, the last district between Samraat Hannibal Lecter's way to conquer the capital of The Crawford empire and becoming the ruler of the whole country; was defeated. With Will being all bloody and bruised, forced to kneel down on the battlefield, to really taste his failure. Humiliated to the seconds till his beheading.
The Samrat with his armor intact, seated on his horse, pointed his spear at Will's forehead. Blood from it mixing with the cut on his cheek and diluting with the rest of his body as it raced to find some peace in the sand. Behind Will's stern gaze to the Maharaj, his body ached to join the rest of his blood. For years he has been fighting for his peace. And even though he just lost his birth land, he might have won his everlasting peace.
"Very well then," The Maharaja applied more pressure, the blood even more eager now to decorate the Raja's spear. "Your outcome should be the same as every other Kunwar against my path. Shouldn't it be?"
Will said nothing and relaxed in his restraints, closed his eyes and let the Samrat take over. A line started to be drawn on his head, blood covering his face like an odhni.
Just when Will started to lose himself in the coldness of the world; a voice shocked him out of the longing of comfort. "STOP!"
Father!
Maharaj's spear retreated as Will took a sharp turn to see his ill ridden father rushing towards them on a horse.
"Look at that, the Thakur has decided to join us." Will's father was immediately on his knees. And started babbling a mess of words that begged for his only son's life.
"FATHER! STAND UP! What are you doing!!?" Will shouted at him. The whole reason he stepped on this battlefield today was so his father could rest for the very last days he had on earth. And here he was, putting Will's efforts all in vain.
Will pulled against his restraints, the sudden moment mixed with his constant blood loss made him a lot more light headed. He was fighting at every blink to not pass out. Not in a situation like this.
Maybe peace was never written in his life.
He called out for a few soldiers that remained from his side. Ordering them to take his father to bed. Where he should have been. With the medics easing pain, not out on his knees worsening his health alongside his integrity.
"NO WILL! I can not let my only son be lost in these selfish battles of lands. Not when I am still alive!"
"Well, either by rules or your health, you are not going to be alive for much longer, Thakur. What proposal do you have to save the doomed lives of yourself and your only son." The Maharaj tilled his face towards Will, a taunting expression on his face.
Will felt everyone's eyes on them, his gift (curse) enhanced the way people were analyzing his every twitch while they murmured amongst themselves. Discussing the lengths of just what could the Thakur bargain out of this situation to save his poor son.
Oh Will loathed this.
"Marriage. A proposal of marriage." A heavy gasp left out of Will's lungs as the crowd of ministers and soldiers went dead silent. Apparently nobody came to this conclusion amongst their gossiping.
While it wasn't unheard of Raja's giving away their childerens' hand in marriage as a form of truce... giving away their sons in such a deal was definitely unheard of. It has occurred in history. Just not commonly.
Sons died on the battlefield while the Daughters were traded off, all in the name of peace. That was the normal order of things.
Why wasn't Will's father letting him die like how it normally should be.
Samrat Hannibal Stepped down off his horse, handing his weapon to his Senapati beside him, he crouched onto the ground. Looking the Thakur in the eye after he stated his insane demand in the middle of this battlefield.
"Do you understand the gravity of the words you just spewed out? Huh, Thakur?"
"Yes." Replied Will's father. Before Will could interrupt him from continuing this nonsense his father went into a coughing fit. His sickness finally took over whatever energy he had within himself when he rode his way here.
"A marriage between you and my son would insure you having the district and my son being alive."
"As my wife."
Nodded Will's Father. "I have heard the tales of how well you keep all your Raniya. I understand the gravity of this situation. I know my son will be alive and well."
The Samraat chuckled at that. Standing as he dusted off his knees. "Alright then. I accept your proposal." The crowd gasped in harmony.
The Samraat turned to look at Will. "Do you accept "
Will stopped fighting his blinks and submitted to dust.
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