(Book 4) Hayden Mackay and The Fest of Vrindahina

29.1 Cheap Trick

Morning must have dawned before they broke apart, yet locked in the embrace, feeling each other thoroughly.

Pruthvi wanted to get away from her, but he resisted. His conscience screamed at him- if he let her go now, he didn't think he might ever have her back in his arms. His heart ached, as he slowly looked up, her face only a few inches away, her eyes glinting with questions. He guessed what she was going to ask -What was that for?-Or rather-Was he missing her already? But what she said, blew his mind away.

"Wrong timing," she whispered.

Pruthvi arched his brows, finding himself thrown in dubiousness. Taking his hands off her, he took a step back. Her eyes were steady, unblinking but they were speaking the truth-it was a mistake to grope her in the middle of the tense situation, taking it as a measure to obtain instant gratification.

A sudden twig cracking sound jerked him a bit. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed a person, suffusing a grand aura whilst walking elegantly, was approaching them in a hurry. He was carrying a large fired up lantern, and he moved it little closer revealing his face. Realizing who the person was, Pruthvi at once felt his heart skipping a beat.

It was King Aghasthya.

Pruthvi's job didn't seem to find Tyrell anymore. Since past few weeks, making King Agasthya angry was becoming the main objective of his every effort. He took another step away from Leena, watching the king walk straight towards him. His eyes had a certain stillness, coldness, but Pruthvi thought they were the sharp knives digging deep into his ribs.

Not so far away, many lanterns attached to the stick were dug into the ground. Flickering tremendously, the lights filled in the forest allowed Pruthvi to see a few Sharad's knights. They were busily attempting to chain Deva and others to one another, holding them in their thorough captive.

King Aghasthya stood in front of him, veins in his temples ready to explode. But before he began screaming like a banshee, Pruthvi slowly glanced at Leena intending for an answer.

"I...I went to Daulah Haat," she said, "to drop that woman in a store... where she could get some help. I waited to make sure she was out of danger. Grandfather and his knights were already on their way to the temple. But during the time I spent waiting, a few passersby recognized me as Lithika and informed him about my presence."

He kept looking at her. That wasn't the answer he was expecting to listen.

She understood his intention and replied, "Dhanunjay ratted us out."

"I forced it out of him," King Aghasthya corrected, his voice as grating as it could be, "Pruthvi, I am not here to ask..."

"I killed Zarina Khan."

It was a heedless reaction. Pruthvi wasn't planning for it, the words had flown out of his mouth as if he had no control over himself anymore. Perhaps it was the raging guilt, burning his organ one after the other, or his heavy heart unable to have a grip over his deed had imposed him to say it out loud. He heard a horrified gasp from the one he had imagined to spend the rest of the life with. His eyes watered as Zarina's words once again rang in his ears.

"Poor current citizens of Paramarashtra-they don't even know that an upcoming holy marriage is going to bring a curse upon them. Now tell me, is the third generation Samagraha any different? Do you possess a pure soul?

A slow breeze drifted towards them and tousled his hair. The leaves of the Vrindahina susurrated, the atmosphere surrounding him turned tensed and fearful, sending chilled shivers through his body. Did he just confess committing a crime?

"What did you say?" King Agasthya asked, finally breaking the silence, "Zarina Khan?"

"Pruthvi?" Leena walked over and held his hand. "Wha...what happened?"