Rewriting the War (Duryodhan)

Chapter 4 - A Princess as a Friend

It was finally the day of the event, and I knew it because he came striding into the room with a beautiful hand-embroidered orange saree in his hands.

He held it out to me along with an emerald necklace.

"Wear it." Duryodhan seemed to be in a rush as he ushered me to the adjacent room to change my attire.

I noticed that Dia was already inside. She smiled warmly, coming forward to help me with my hair while I mutely changed into my dress.

As I worked alongside the other maids, I came to know of their names, their families, and their lives but it was still formal in a sense.

They had only known me for a week; it would take some time to adjust to a stranger. Even more when the stranger was me.

Once I finished profusely thanking her, I stepped out holding the written plate securely in my palms.

He offered a soft smile upon seeing me and plucked the slate from my grasp. Before I could voice my sound of protest, Duryodhan brought forth a yellow shawl and gently wrapped it around the message.

"Shall we proceed?" He said after passing it back to me.

I nodded taking in his green dhoti, which immensely complimented his skintone.

"But I have questions to ask." The words tumbled from my mouth carelessly.

"Sure." He agreed, good naturedly.

I mentally frowned at his ease.

There were several expectations I had of him, and he wasn't living up to the negative portrayal of his written in the book.

Not that I was complaining about it.

Perhaps this was how he used to be even then. As I thought further, I faintly remembered a folktale about him.

The pearl one and it explained why Bhanumati was a devoted wife in the epic even though the marriage, at start, wasn't her ideal choice.

And if he was truly the man he had shown me these days, then it was going to be difficult for me. Very difficult, in fact.

The corridor was empty as usual. Even during my time exploring the wing, it had been devoid of people, giving the whole place an eerie sense of tranquility.

"Won't the guests question my presence?"

It was a logical thought of mine. The social hierarchy was apparent in that era and I was a maid.

"No." He assured.

"How?" Knowing them, it seemed absurd that they would accept the idea of a maid mingling with them.

"Because you are my sister's friend."

"Huh?"

"That's what you would be here on. I have already talked to my sister about this." He stated it nonchalantly, and I acted the same.

Internally, I was freaking out. It was a shock and a pleasant one in a way.

"But won't the maids and guards know?"

I have heard numerous tales about rumours being spread via the servants and causing chaos in a royal's life.

"What happens in my wing remains in my wing."

Now that I thought, he had just twelve staff, excluding me. Six maids, two cooks, and four guards.

"And they aren't allowed out."

While it was reassuring, it was also distressing to acknowledge their lack of freedom, but I chose not to gloss over the latter at the moment.

"If someone asks about me?"

"You are Amara Paracha, daughter of a nobleman in Gandhara."

"If they ask about my father?"

"You are aware." He looked appreciative, before thinking.

"Tell them that the topic of your family pains you."

Clever. It would really stop anyone from further questioning me.

Anyone but one.

"Your mother...I meant...the Queen wouldn't find it suspicious?"

"I told her as well."

Did he just say the Queen knew?!

"She agreed?" I asked him, rooted to the ground.

"Yes." He seemed amused at my state of surprise. In all fairness, I didn't know Gandhari was cool like that.

I should have asked what his uncle thought of it and I bet it would have been the opposite of the casual approval shown by the Queen and the Princess.

Finally running out of concern, I spent the time observing the environment. It was all too glorious to not be remembered and committed to my memory.

As we further walked, I saw a tent, spread out at the middle of a vast green ground.

We entered the greenery through one side, along a path laden with an expensive carpet. There were guards standing, almost appearing lifeless, throughout the line.

Whereas on the other side, it seemed to open to a forest since I caught sight of a tiny deer poking its head out.

"Finished with your questions?" He asked me, teasing.

"Yes." I replied, scrunching my eyebrows, still looking at the adorable deer which was far away from me.

"Let me ask one then." He paused, "Do you care about how you are perceived?"

Like that, the deer vanished from my sight.

I smiled slightly.
All my life, I had not ever worried about others' opinions.

"No." I replied firmly.

"Good because you need that confidence in the event." He smiled sinisterly and I have to admit, his warning did scare me a little.

As we neared the tent, a pretty lady ran towards us. She was fair with her eyes lined with kohl and her nose was similar to that of Duryodhan.

"Ah! Meet my sister. This is Amara."

"Nice to meet you, princess." I politely bowed my head.

"Call me Dushala and the pleasure is all mine." Dushala was full of smiles, but I caught her sharing an eye contact with her brother.

"I will leave then." He shared a final look with his sister as if telepathically telling her to do as they had talked before.

As soon as he left, my friend of five minutes pulled me aside.

"Who are you?" She placed her hands in her hips and I nearly laughed.

We, humans, have always been the same creature we were for centuries.

"I am an orphan." I thought he had told her.

"I know that." She made a waving gesture.

"Then?" I tilted my head a little, utterly confused.

"Like, who are you?"

"Amara?" Her sudden inquisitiveness was scaring me.

"Noo!" The girl stomped and made a sound. It seemed like she couldn't phrase what was in her head.

"He himself took-" Dushala suddenly stopped and shook her head.

"Nevermind. Let's be friends." She offered me a heartwarming smile which I returned despite the sudden change in demeanour.

She reminded me of someone I knew.

"Just make sure to address people by their title, and we should be fine."

Dushala shared her piece of wisdom as we both stepped into the carpeted floor of the tent.