Prayana

01 | Lightning Changes

"Rajakumari, the day is beautiful. Do you not want to visit the gardens?"

Priya, her friend, stood at the door. Uttaraa hummed noncommittally.

"I haven't the time to play today, Sakhi. You enjoy," she said mildly, not looking up from the trunk she was staring down at.

Priya sighed audibly and then was gone. Uttaraa breathed a minute sigh of relief, glad to not have to hide her emotions anymore.

She looked down at the dolls that she held in her hand and pressed her lips together tightly.

Uttar had been the one to tell her.

"Uttaraa, where are you?" he had called, walking through her chambers.

Uttaraa did not look up from her lap where her ghungroos lay. She kept studying them as he caught sight of her.

It is a pretty thing, she mused silently. She dared not to think of where she got them, but traced one of the bells as Uttar came to sit beside her, watching her.

"Uttaraa, this is important."

The seriousness in her brother's voice made her look up. Uttar wore a sombre expression on his face.

"Pitashri has agreed to get you married to Rajakumara Abhimanyu of Indraprastha."

The world went soundless for a second as Uttaraa's eyes widened. Uttar placed a hand on her forearm to steady her.

"Wh—what?" her voice came out in a small whisper.

He looked apologetic and tightened his grasp on her.

Uttaraa swayed.

What was happening? Was she dreaming? First her teacher was revealed as Dhananjaya Arjuna, the best archer in the lands, and now she was to be married to—to his son?

"Am I dreaming, Uttar?"

He took a deep breath, promptly considering something, and then continued. "No, Uttaraa. Pitashri originally wanted to offer your hand to Brih—Rajakumara Arjuna, but he turned Pitashri down and said you were like a daughter to him. He instead offered to have you married to his son Abhimanyu. Samrat Yudhishthira agreed and it was fixed. I was too wonderstruck to say anything, besides I'm not sure Pitashri would be pleased if I did speak up at all."

She leaned on him, too struck by all the shocks to say anything.

Uttaraa was to be married.

Her gaze fixed on her dolls again, the very same dolls that she had laughingly adorned with all the garments of the Kuru warriors not two days ago, and revulsion rose.

She made a frustrated noise, and threw the doll in the trunk.

I suppose I should only be glad that I'm not getting married to Bri—no, Arjuna. Uttaraa could not help the bitterness that rose in her.

Her childhood was wrenched away in one fell swoop.

It was not two days ago where her greatest concern was disappointing her teacher—no, he's not Brihannala, he's Arjuna—and what she'd do to pass the time when her lessons were over with her sakhis. But now she was to worry about her future husband and all the things her mother would warn her about—things she didn't want to think about.

Uttaraa took a deep breath.

It was not as though she was a small child. She had seen twenty-eight years pass already. She was on the cusp of adulthood, but she lingered in her childish passions and ventures because she feared what was ahead.