A Royal Tale of Hearts | ✔

15| closeth enow

The letter's contents were no code for once, but rather a crystal clear message.

Her younger stepmother, Mah Chuckak had produced a son, who is now second in line to the throne now. And that woman would stop at nothing to remove Akbar and put her son in the first place.

Afsana folded the letter when she heard the footsteps of her husband.

But she could not hide the worry in her features from him.

"What is it?" Louis asked.

"My father's third wife has had a son, which means my brother Akbar is in danger." Afsana said, pacing the lavish room.

She stopped when she noticed the frown on her husband's face, and explained her stepmother's ambitions.

"I need to protect Akbar, he's in danger and Mah Chuckak will stop at no lengths to-"

Her frantic rambling was cut short when Louis wrapped his hands around her face and leaned down towards her. All of a sudden her ears and neck felt much warmer, and her heart beat much faster.

"There is nothing you can do right now other than to not worry." He said, his breath brushing upon her nose.

"But-"

"No buts. You promised me you'd give me a chance to prove myself a good husband on this trip, now will you please let me fulfil my goal? "

She couldn't help but worry about her family, about the future of the Mughal Empire. But then Bega Begum's letter echoed in her head.

Your husband's home is also yours.

Afsana looked into the Count's dark eyes, pleading with her. She reached up to put her thumb next to one of them, then skimmed her fingers down to his cheek, adorned with a jet black stubble that tickled her skin. And his pink lips, that had yet to meet with hers.

Every feature of his was beautiful and a reminder that he was now hers.

Thinking back to her mother's words, she realized that the Mughal Empire would always be her home, but now she had another home with Louis.

And she owed it to him to try and settle in to it.

So met his gaze and nodded. "All right."

The smile that broke on his face engulfed her too, filling their hearts with warmth and joy.

Releasing her face, he grabbed her hand and led her through the corridors of the country house with such pace that she had to run to keep up.

"Where are we going?" Afsana asked, struggling to keep up.

"To the court yard, we'll play some tennis first." Louis smiled back at her.

Hearing that she tried to slow down, but he still had a grip on her hand and tugged her along.

"You know I'm no good at tennis!" She said.

"That's why you need to practice. If you're to spend time at Navarrian court, tennis will end up being one of your biggest entertainments."

That sentence alone filled her with annoyance and hope.

It was no secret that she was disliked by most of the Navarrian nobles, most of all by her sister-in-law and one day Queen of Navarre, Jeanne.
But the thought of spending her life there with her husband as a companion made it a lot less awful.

And it would only last a few more months.

Soon, the young couple will be headed towards her home again, where they'd become governors of Pondicherry, uniting two kingdoms as one. There'd be a turbulent sea journey, which she dreaded, but at the end she would be with her people and her family once again.

The princess did have doubts as to whether the count would cope.

"You adapted yourself to my land, did you not?" He had bumped his shoulder against hers when she first shared her worries with him, on a late evening, sitting side by side on the grass. "Besides, I think I prefer the food from there than Navarre. Mughal people certainly do know how to make use of their spices."

She felt reassured after that.

And learning how to play tennis a few more times felt like less of a burden.

Thus, the young prince and princess batted a ball back and fourth until she could finally grasp the basics of the game, before making a run for the hills of the nearby land. High up there their honeymoon home seemed so small, and the smell of the flowers so strong. The prince introduced her to more strange games played on this foreign land and encouraged her to try again if she failed.

The newlyweds ran, laughed and basked in the sun until their very bones ached and they made their way way to the country house, falling in an exhausted heap on the bed.

"Louis?" Afsana murmured some time later.

The sun had began to set outside, and she could see the mixture of pinks and purples in the sky from the open french window.

"Yes?" His voice was muffled by the pillow he had face palmed into earlier.

"Is this what love feels like?"

She was already looking at him when he lifted his head with surprise.

He turned his torso so he was laying on his side and propped his elbow up to lean his head upon his hand.

His wife stared up at him, awaiting an answer.

"Not quiet." He said. "But it's close enough."

They smiled at each other, and  Afsana fell into space on bed beside him, her dress creasing around them. Instinctively Louis put a hand gently on her waist, whilst his wife put hers over his face. They let their upturned lips meet for the first time to wash away any doubts they'd had about each other and their marriage.

It wasn't love just yet for the count and rajkumari, but close enough.