Tyaag

१

The crown prince had returned. 

The blood from his battle scars dripped out of the possession of his skin like the first drizzle of monsoon, seeping into the ground, leaving a trail of star flowers sprouting in his wake.

The winds carried the fragrance of those mauve blossoms all the way to his kingdom, giving the air inside the palace walls a misty scent of honey.

The courtyard of Amer fort came alive as soon as their beloved prince arrived riding the golden tunnel of an early sunrise, the iris of fire that breathed in the sky behind him seemed to dwindle in his coruscating presence. 

The palace and the people in it started pulsating with ecstasy before his feet even touched the ground.

It was only natural that his arrival would send everyone in a frenzy but they couldn't afford to spend their time cajoling. 

The queen simply wouldn't approve.

She was clear with her orders, if the people wanted to welcome their Yuvraaj, they shall do so by making sure that everything about the royal feast would match his magnificence.

There was no scope for blunders of any kind.

Yet, it was not surprising that the handmaidens who were occupied with the preparations for the festivities of the night to celebrate the prince's return as well as his birth anniversary, somehow still managed to steal moments of their time to fawn over him. 

Even the prospect of their Queen's fury couldn't stop them from indulging in the tales of his bravery, chanting his name, whispering praise under their breath.

They couldn't seem to stop themselves to even catch their breath. Such was his charm. 

He, who was luminous like the sun and yet carried the calming silver of the moon in his eyes.

He, who even though appreciated the warm welcome simply couldn't pay any heed to the fact that his palace, his home, was being adorned with colors of the rainbow and flowers of the spring.

He was too busy making sure that his throat wouldn't be slit open by the hands of his opponent.

The callous on his fingers hadn't even scabbed over yet and there he was, ripping them open again.

He let his scim soar through the air, smiling as his stroke landed perfectly in time to hit her right arm.

"You've lost your touch." He teased even though that was far from the truth. He wouldn't be gasping for air if she had forgotten how to swing her sword.

Meera made a low guttural sound at the back of her throat, wielding her sword with a new found resolution, as if going straight for the kill. 

The prince dodged her vicious attack with ease. However, due to their constant prowling, he felt the need to switch sword arms. It was only when he saw her lips twitching did he realize that he had made a grave mistake. 

Before he could compose himself enough to deflect, she jabbed her sword at his wrist sending his weapon flying in the air.

It was a strategic attack, one that could've cost him his life if she were the enemy. 

But she wasn't.

Far from it, really.

The only thing she had ever cost him was his sanity and his heart.

The quiver of her lips had given her away. She had lost her element of surprise, and in those mere seconds he had braced himself enough to formulate another attack.