Warrior Hearts

Request Denied

"Singhania, who clued you in about my birthday?" I ask, as he and I wait for the oven to work its magic on the cake. Who am I kidding? Nothing and no one can salvage the poison that Singhania has managed to cook up. Truth be told, through the corner of my eye, I saw quite a few eggshells slip into the bowl, alongside a few ingredients that I know for a fact do not belong in cake batters. 

"Oh, so now we're allowed to hold a conversation with each other?" As always, the man at my side hurls a question right back at me in response to mine. Grinning, Singhania offers me the briefest of glances, before reverting his gaze back towards the oven. If only he knew that by bending in front of the oven - with both his hands braced against his knees - and staring at it, the oven won't work any quicker, or produce better results, for that matter. I wonder if Singhania's performed this staring practice for the three previous disasters as well.

"Not if you refuse to answer me." I retort, my words warranting another amused glance from Singhania. 

"I asked Sur," he replies. 

"Now wasn't that an easy answer!" I exclaim - my voice dripping with sarcasm - as I clap my hands together. "When did you ask her, though?" Narrowing my eyes at Singhania's back, I try to pinpoint the moment during which he could've posed such a question at Sur. I can bet my life that he was most certainly not interested in such information while he was in our kingdom. After all, at that time, Singhania merely had a part to play, and nothing more.

"Just this..." With a jerk, Singhania straightens. Warily, I eye his behind, his sudden movement having caught me off guard. "What does it matter, Princess?" Releasing a wavering bark of laughter, Singhania turns to face me. "What matters, though, is that you aren't adorning an outfit that's fit for a birthday girl." 

"Who in the world are you to dictate that?" I demand accusingly, my hands propping themselves on my waist. Although Singhania's lips are illuminated by a sliver of a smile, his shoulders are shaking with unchecked mirth. 

"Has anyone told you, Princess, you're a doll?" He asks, amusement dancing within his brown orbs. 

"They can surely try and risk losing their tongue." I threaten, as I return my hands to my sides. Raising his palms to face me - a gesture of surrender - Singhania regains control of his wayward emotions. 

"Princess, I'm not dictating anything." He says, cautiously spacing each word out, his palms still facing me. "Let's just say that I'm merely reminding you regarding the code of conduct. We can't have the queen of our land showing up for a dinner gathering dressed inadequately, now can we, Princess?" Leaning towards me, Singhania raises his eyebrows at me. He's in an awfully teasing mood today, so much so that one would think it's his birthday instead of mine.

"Dinner gathering?" I repeat, utterly clueless. Why in the world can't Singhania speak clearly, so that his words can make sense to me for a change?

"Of course!" He exclaims, his face breaking out into an ear wide grin. "Princess, the whole family also wants a hand in today's celebrations. Actually, a little birdie told me that your friend, Shivam, has even put together a handmade gift for you." At once my eyes widen at the thought of Shivam's nimble fingers working hard to create a present for me. He's a miniature version of Sur. "And so I thought it would be best to gather all of them, tonight, for dinner." My heart swells at the mere thought of celebrating my birthday with so many people for the first time. 

"Singhania we do that almost every night, unless someone has a prior commitment," I argue. "So I fail to understand as to why I should go all out just this once." 

"Princess," tsking, Singhania throws his head back. Pouting, I stare at him. Lord, this man really does have a flair for the dramatic. Releasing an exaggerated sigh, Singhania locks his eyes on mine. "Either my brain is accelerating, or the speed of yours would make a tortoise feel proud of his." Although I open my mouth to defend myself, before I can utter a word in protest, Singhania continues. 

"It's not your birthday everyday, Princess, which is why no one dresses up ordinarily. But tonight's feast is a special one because we are celebrating you, which means it's a special dinner gathering. Plus, Princess, I've already told everyone to wear their evening best, so now unless you wish to resemble a pauper at the dinner table, I highly suggest you hurry on up to your chambers and change." Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, Singhania turns back around to face the oven, once again resuming his prior position as he stares at the poor thing. 

Furrowing my brows together, I blink in wonder at this man's tact. However, instead of calling Singhania out on it, I decide to silently exit the kitchen and do just that, change. After all, as much as I hate to admit it, Singhania is right - I most certainly do not wish to be the misfit at tonight's gathering. 

"Oh, and Princess?" Singhania calls from behind me, his words bringing me to a halt. 

"Hmm?" Questioningly, I glance at him over my shoulder. 

"I'm wearing a navy blue suit tonight." Singhania informs me, the faintest sliver of hope evident in his tone. "And I would love for us to complement each other." 

"I don't have that colour in my wardrobe." I reply, a bud of disappointment blooming within me. For the first time in my life, I truly wish that I was as keenly interested in fashion as the other women I've come across. I can bet they have a rainbow of colours safely stored within their wardrobes, any given design or colour readily available for whenever they require it.

"I've already taken care of that, Princess." Singhania assures me, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'll look forward to seeing you in an hour's time." Offering me a mischievous wink, Singhania waves me away with the back of his right hand.

*****

Unblinking, I stare at the gown that is draped across the south of my bed, its hem overspilling onto the ottoman which is stationed in front of the footboard. It's beautiful, is the first thought that comes to my mind upon seeing the gown. It has been fashioned from a rich navy blue coloured material, the sight of which reminds me of the inky night sky. The gown's neckline is dangerously low cut, and I can gauge from the way its sleeves are resting against the duvet that they will rest just below my shoulders. Eyeing the cinched up waist, I conclude that the bodice of the gown is meant to hug my waistline snugly. However, as my eyes trail below that, I realise that the remainder of the material is meant to fan out around me, like a puffed up cloud. Adding to its grandeur and complementing the colour of the dress are a hundred sparkling diamonds littered across the expanse of the gown, beginning from the hem and winding their way up until its waistline. 

"Stars," I murmur appreciatively, an involuntary smile tugging at my lips. Lord knows where Singhania purchases such unique wearable art pieces from. Reaching out with my right hand, I take a step in the gown's direction, eager to feel its material against my fingertips. However, before I allow myself this liberty, a wave of deja vu slams into the centre of my chest, knocking the air right out of my lungs. I'm unable to swallow so much as a wisp of air as I stare at my fingers which are hovering in midair, mere inches above the neckline of the garment. The gown in front of me is no longer navy blue. On the contrary, it's white as milk and fit for a bride. I'm staring at the gown which Singhania gifted me with on our wedding day. 

Shutting my eyes momentarily, I inhale a deep breath. Instead of allowing my fingers to continue their descent towards the gown on the bed, I curl my fingers in on themselves, fisting my right hand. Opening my eyes, I offer the gown one last look before allowing my feet to carry me a step away from it. Then another. And another. Squaring my shoulders, I stare at the material on the bed defiantly. I will not adorn this gown and give Singhania the satisfaction he so desperately seeks. There are plenty of outfits to choose from in my wardrobe and that's exactly what I intend to do. I do not need to, or wish to adorn myself in Singhania's charity piece.