Warrior Hearts

Choices

Manik's POV

"I would have chosen your outfit beforehand, had you informed me regarding your plans." Anusha says, her tone accusatory.

Throwing myself across the length of my bed onto my back, I shut my eyes; here we go again. Nowadays Anusha and I cannot have a decent conversation without her throwing in subtle quips that are aimed directly at me. I know for a fact that she isn't merely upset about my impromptu need for an outfit. No, I must read between the lines of her spoken words, and so what Anusha means to say is that I am not giving her enough attention, which includes failing to keep her informed regarding the everyday matters that take place in my life. In short, Anusha believes that her importance is decreasing in my world, and that is bruising her pride.

"I was not aware that I am answerable to you," I bite out curtly. Stretching my arms out above me, I entwine my fingers under my head, creating a makeshift pillow for myself until Anusha decides upon my attire.

"You misunderstand me, Your Highness." The corner of my lips tilts upwards at the change in Anusha's tone; her bite has just changed into a whimper. "All I meant was, I hate to keep you waiting in this manner while I decide."

"I'm sure you can pick up your pace," I reply dryly. "After all, you have been dutifully playing the part of my butler for quite a few years; this routine should be your second nature by now." Silence is the only response that I receive in return for my harsh jabs. Not bad, Anusha has been working on her self control, I can tell.

"I'm assuming you'd prefer to wear the usual colours?" Anusha asks, after a few minutes of silence in which I'm sure she was battling with the impulse to retaliate, and her need to appease me to the best of her ability, considering the deep waters she's already in.

"Must we go through the same redundant questions each time?" I question in return. "Anusha, you're well aware that I hate to experiment with my attire, and yet you wish to take me in circles each time with these inane questions."

"I just thought I'd ask, Your Highness, since as of late you are making quite a few changes to your life." Anusha retorts, resentment dripping from each and every word of hers. Sitting up with a jerk, I rise to my feet.

"You were called here to fulfil your duties of choosing my attire, as you have been doing for the past several years, but I don't remember ordering a side dish of insults with it this time around." I say, taking long meaningful strides in Anusha's direction. "So if you cannot complete the task at hand without confusing it for what it's not, then I suggest you leave it to me, and show yourself out." In order to showcase my gravity, I grab hold of the wardrobe handle.

"Do forgive me, Your Highness." Anusha says, turning away from the interior of the wardrobe to face me. "I've been having a tough time recently, but it is not right for me to unleash my frustrations on you." Appealingly, Anusha rests her hand against my chest, her eyes seeking forgiveness from mine. With an urge that comes to me almost instinctively, I take hold of Anusha's outstretched palm, removing it from my body as if its a mere piece of lint. Letting go off her wrist, I rest my hands behind my back and take a step away from the woman in front of me.

"You digress," I remind her, nodding my chin in the direction of the wardrobe. "Again." Pursing her lips into a thin line, Anusha watches me as if I've burnt her.

*****

"Pull out another coat," I tell Anusha, as I struggle with the knot on my cravat. "One that is more subtle in colour."

"But, Your Highness, emerald green will look wonderful with your beige trousers," Anusha cries out in dismay.

"Anusha, don't delay me," I warn her. If only this goddamn cravat could be intimidated into obedience.