Warrior Hearts

Thank You

Huffing, I shrug my right shoulder in an attempt to awaken Singhania, so that he can straighten up and spare my poor back, instead of treating it like his personal wall. However, just like the several previous attempts, I fail at removing the leech from me yet again. Sighing, I slouch my shoulders, as I accept the added weight that's pressed against my back. Truth be told, once we both mounted my horse it did not take Singhania so much as a second to grow comfortable against me, and transport himself to his dream world. 

I let out a gasp, my head jerking down towards my waist. Singhania has quite conveniently wound his arms around my stomach, his fingers interlocking themselves right at my navel. Frowning, I stare down at his grip around me. Truth be told, I am finding this close proximity quite odd. However, Singhania doesn't seem to be sharing the same thoughts at all. On the contrary, it seems that he's made himself right at home. 

"What're you doing?" I ask, spurring our ride on, so as to minimise this journey time as best as I can. "I thought you were asleep." 

"If only I was that fortunate, Princess." Singhania replies, as he detaches his forehead from against the upper half of my back. However, before I can rejoice, Singhania presses the side of his face against my shoulder-blade. 

"Singhania, get..." I trail off, as the corner of my shirt - which Singhania is leaning against - begins to grow wet. "Are you crying again?" I question, trying to sneak a glance at him over my shoulder. However, Singhania does not reply. Instead, the only response I get is the growing wetness of the material on my body. 

"I've made you a promise, Singhania." I remind him, as the man behind me begins to sniff. "What more do you want from me?" Truth be told, I sound like a whining child. However, I'm desperate for Singhania to put an end to his tears. After all, they're staining my clothes and he's not worth ruining them for. 

"I want you to sing for me," Singhania replies, his voice barely above a whisper. In fact, if he wasn't right behind me - his lips within close proximity to my ear - then I'm sure that the wind would've overpowered his words. Pursing my lips, I continue to stare at the darkened path in front of me. 

"I'm not your personal nightingale, Singhania," I say curtly. 

"Please," Singhania begs. Truth be told, at this given moment, I'd have viewed my enemy to be a child stuck in a man's body had I not been well acquainted with his true colours. On the other hand, however, regardless of all that I've experienced at Singhania's hands, and everything that I'm aware of, I can't help but sense utter innocence in his voice, almost as if he genuinely just wants to hear me sing. Alas, this is exactly what I thought once before, and I've suffered the consequences for that grave mistake of mine. 

"Princess, in a few minutes this ride will be over," Singhania says, his grip tightening around my upper half. "Please just do me this one last favour. It'll even save you the torture of listening to me ramble on and on." 

"That lullaby isn't meant to be heard by an enemy of mine, Singhania," I say truthfully. Lord, why in the world does Singhania have to turn every conversation of ours into an argument? 

"Do it for a friend, then," he urges. "I told you, we're friends now." I don't have to turn around to know that Singhania is smiling against my back. 

"You may consider me to be one," I retort. "However, the feelings aren't mutual. Remember back at my palace when our friendship was one-sided? Perhaps history is repeating itself. The only difference being that the tables have now turned, Singhania." 

"Princess," Singhania says, "Will you ever be able to forgive me?" Pursing my lips, I divert my gaze up towards the starry night sky. Now I'm sure that Singhania is absolutely sloshed, for no sober man would have had the guts to ask me this question if he'd done whatever Singhania did. 

"I'll sing," I announce. "Just so that you can put an end to these useless questions and forced conversations." 

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star." I begin to sing, the lyrics flowing off my tongue with utter ease as always. Truth be told, by now this song comes as naturally to me as if it is a part of my second nature.

"Mmm...Thank you," Singhania murmurs, as he offers me a quick squeeze of gratitude. Glancing over my shoulder, I find his eyes shut, a small smile plastered onto his face. This smile, however, is unlike the smirks I've grown used to being on the receiving end of. It's an innocent expression, and in this moment - as I sing to him - I see all the stress and restlessness eradicate itself from Singhania's face. 

*****

"You're an angel!" Rohit exclaims, as I bring my horse to a halt. Hastily, I swing my legs to one side and slide off my ride. Now that the support of my back is gone, Singhania plops down onto the saddle, face first. 

"Ay, careful!" Rohit calls out, rushing to his friend's aid. "The king of our land can't be missing his front teeth. We need a pretty face to represent us, alongside a fully functioning brain." 

"Luckily for you, Rohit, I'm here and I'm the proud owner of both." I interject, offering Singhania a quick look. "Or else if this friend of yours was the sole ruler of our lands, then even a miracle wouldn't be enough to salvage them." 

"I'm saying this right now because Singhania isn't sober enough to comprehend my words." Rohit says, as he helps his friend to dismount the horse without breaking a bone. "But you're right." Satisfied, I turn on my heels and begin to head towards the palace. 

"Arjun, what are you doing?" Rohit yells, as someone crashes into me from the back. 

"Thank you," Singhania whispers, pinning my arms against my front. Surprised, I stay still in his hold, as he continues to lean into me. Truth be told, I have never felt this fragile - as if I were a porcelain doll - than now, when I'm in my enemy's hold, as he towers above me. Perhaps I should ask Singhania whether he wishes to be my shield on the battlefield. I bet his back would look like a piece of art with a hundred arrows sticking out of it.

"I'm not Anusha," I spit through gritted teeth. Jerking my elbow straight into Singhania's stomach, I step out of his hold. 

"I know you're not," Singhania calls out from behind me, as I march away from him.