Warrior Hearts

Prince Charming, Indeed

"Something's bothering you, Nandu." Father says, as I nurse a warm cup of tea in between my palms.

"I just think that everything's happening a little too quick." I admit, glancing away from the window to meet Father's gaze. "Just a few days ago, I accepted Malhotra's proposal, and tomorrow I'm expected to become his bride." Truth be told, the mere thought of the wedding has me feeling light-headed. "I'm going to be sick." I murmur to myself, as I hastily place my cup down. Lord knows why I'm even addressing these qualms with Father, considering how I already know he's going to side with Malhotra, no matter what I say. After all, in Father's eyes, my husband-to-be is an angel, who can do no wrong. Unfortunately, on the other hand, the only friend that I have is Malhotra, and this is most certainly not an issue that I can address with him. If only I had another confidante, who was unbiased to the entirety of this situation.

"Nandu, dear, every bride gets cold feet before her wedding day." Father says, shedding his never ending philosophical talks on me. "Your mother was most certainly one of them."

"She was?" I ask, my interest piqued. Who would've thought that a woman like Mother, who was infinitely in love with my old man, could get cold feet? Moreover, if she could experience this bundle of nerves, then who am I against them? Scooting the ottoman closer to Father's bed, I lean towards him. I've never shied away whenever Father brings my mother up in the conversation. On the contrary, I'm always interested to learn more about her. Smiling, Father nods. I've never quite understood what he feels for Mother because whenever he does smile at the mention of her name, it doesn't quite reach his eyes. In fact, his orbs always grow distant and melancholic, almost as if he's thinking of a shattered dream. However, at the same time, solely during such discussions is when Father's smile comes from his soul. It's an odd phenomenon to witness; one that bears a blend of pain and love. I wonder how someone can fall in love with the very source of their pain.

Love comes at the price of pain. Malhotra's words echo in my head. This is why I've always feared marriage, and run away from the mere mention of the word, 'Love.' It has the power to liberate us, and yet if fate doesn't work out in our favour, it can be the very cause of our destruction. In the blink of an eye, we can either attain the world at our feet, or lose it all, and that scares me. Being unable to control another's emotions and their unpredictability, that's what I fear the most. The good thing, however, is that I haven't involved any such emotions with Malhotra. After all, a few days ago when I accepted his proposal, I did so solely for the sake of my people, and not because I love him, or any of that nonsense.

"I'm going to tell you something today, Nandu, that your mother would've told you had she been around." Father says, interrupting my train of thoughts. Encouragingly, I nod at him to continue. "A home is made from the presence of the two people in it. This isn't your home, and neither was Manik truly living in his, until after tomorrow. The house that you both will fill up with love and memories - together - that's going to be your home, his and yours. A couple makes a home."

"Two lovers make a home," I murmur.

"Absolutely, dear." Father says, passing his hand over my hair. "Now that's what your mother would've said, and now it's my turn. All I'll tell you, Nandu, is that you must treat Manik's kingdom as yours, as if you were born in it. Treat the people of that land the way you'd treat ours. Just like how a parent doesn't discriminate between two children, you must not differentiate between the two lands."

"Without a doubt, Father," I agree. I might not be knowledgable about various aspects of this world. However, as far as my duties are concerned, I am absolutely clear on how to fulfil them. In fact, this very day has come in my life solely because of the responsibilities that I bear towards my people.