Samsāra

Chapter Fourteen

A week before Holi, Bijjaladeva asked to see her. Ajiona had been expecting the invitation. Ever since she had joined the family in taking dinner and she had noticed the speculative gleam in his eyes and the way he stroked his withered hand ruminatively. The first time stiff and painful, Sivagami was courteous and paid her enough attention, Bahubali was friendly. The other prince stared at her from across the table as if a spider was sitting and talking then pointedly looked away as if the mere sight of her embarrassed him. He ate little and retired soon. Ajiona thought he was still sore about their last conversation. His father however said nothing; he ate as little as his son and drank cups after cups of wine staring at her almost through supper. When he left the table, his face was flushed and he stumbled a little. Ajiona claimed she was sick the second night to avoid a repeat of the awkwardness and Bahubali sent her a box of savouries.

The deal Ajiona had made with Sivagami was still fresh in her mind. Sometimes she berated herself for agreeing with the deal, she realised she has shackled herself to the queen mother and the princes. She had come a long way from the girl who wanted to travel most of the world in a year, get into college, graduate and start building her career. She had promised herself it was only when she was established she would consider a relationship, now all she had were two undesirable futures before her, one was permanent, the other not so. It chilled her just to think of it. But then, was the thought of marriage that repulsive? Has she been influenced by her parents’ failed marriage that the thought of the lifelong commitment made her uneasy? Her parents’ had gotten married at a really young age, her mother was a freshman at college and her father had been freshly out from college when they met. A few poor decisions later, her mother was pregnant with Ajiona and her refusal to abort ended her relationship with her tycoon father. Two months after, shotgun wedding, four months after that, Ajiona was born and the small family lived on Diane’s inheritance for a year before Danny got job at a truck company and more or less disappeared from their lives. So Ajiona had grown with the barely there father and the child like mother. Fast forward many years later, Henry was still missing from the picture, Jason had filled his shoes and has a dojo, Diane was a fashion consultant and Ajiona was a high school graduate with a bright future. Not so very bright anymore. She either dies before she got hitched or gets hitched before she dies. Really bright!
Would it be truly terrible to marry the princes? Especially Bahubali, he was friendly, funny and respectful, but the other, all she could tell was he was proud and flatly unfriendly. The thought of her wedding day came to mind, not a white wedding but an Indian wedding with no one to give her away.

It was Sukravaram, at the end of the muhurta Vahini and her dance tutor Baijanti had just left. Ajiona was panting and slick with sweat, her muscles ached from the forms she had contorted her body into repeatedly. She was thinking of a cool bath when the message arrived. Ajiona was at the same instant unsurprised, scared and hesitant. Pragya calmly waved the messenger to the antechamber and hissed with suppressed fury: ‘You have to say no.’ her voice was firm.

Ajiona eyed her speculatively. ‘Now you talk to me,’ she said after a few moments of scrutiny, her tone was accusing.

‘That man is despicable and a spider, I will not allow him to weave his web around you.’ She ignored the accusation.

Ajiona was surprised at the vehemence; she held her palms out to show helplessness. ‘I don’t think I have the luxury of turning down the invitation...’ she raised a palm to stop the retort coming – ‘I’m not a member of the royal family, courtier or even a member of the council. I’m just a guest and guests can be thrown out. Besides he is a prince and husband to the regent, I’m not sure I want him as an enemy, yet. He could make life difficult for me.’

‘You could claim you are sick,’ Pragya protested.

‘The messenger saw me,’ Ajiona pointed out.