Kunwar Partap entered the relatively quiet stable premises at the break of dawn, checking on Bijli, who was asleep, when he heard the sound of anklets near the cow shed. He walked up to the entrance of the stable, from where he could see her, her dupatta placed loosely over her wet hair, devoid of jewellery, the way he had never seen a royal lady, with a basket of flowers in one hand and a plate of sweets in the other. She was distributing sweets to the cow keepers, veterinarians and everyone who came by on the occasion of Lakshmi giving birth to her calf.
“What will you name her, Hukum?” an old man asked. She smiled shyly, pressing her lips together. “Mandakini, Kakasa.” The old man smiled at her suggestion. “Like the Kund? Very nice.” Kunwar Partap walked up to Lakshmi’s shed only after most people had dispersed to their work. Ajbante Kanwar heard footsteps behind her and turned with the plate that now had one sweetmeat left. Alarmed at his sight and at the lack of options she could offer from the plate, Ajbante looked nervous. Kunwar Partap smiled faintly as if he could read her mind. He broke a part of the sweet while she held the plate and ate it, smiling reassuringly at her. Ajbante lifted her lowered glance, a little surprised at his gesture, as she smiled back politely.
“Mandakini?” He asked eagerly. “Why name her after a Kund?” Ajbante eyed the people busy with their chores, not enough to spare a glance or lend an ear to the informal question coming from a stable boy. She had a smile on the edge of her lips.
“Mandakini is also the river of heaven, the one that goes into Khirad Sagar, Hu… umm… Kika.” She bit her lip at her slip of the tongue. He smiled. “My bad.” He accepted his mistake. She nodded and was about to leave, but he did not move.
“If you did not like the idea of riding, you could have told me, Rajkumarisa.” His voice sounded offended, “ There was no need to tell your mother.” Ajbante looked up at his frown, alarmed. How did he know? Did Maasa tell him? She gulped.
“I was just…” she stammered in nervousness. “Asking for her permission.” She held the handle of her basket tightly as he observed her. “I would not want to land in trouble with Daata Hukum because of…”
“Me?” He looked offended as Ajbante looked alarmed.
“No, No. Because I seek training from you…” She managed before lowering her glance again. Kunwar Partap narrowed his brows. “I suppose you did not get permission?”
“Maasa thinks it's not safe… umm… Bijli is not safe… she can’t be trained.” Kunwar Partap inhaled. “Come with me, princess.” He made her look confused as he briskly walked towards the stable. He opened the door to Bijli’s unit and found her eating the fresh hay he had kept along with the water in the morning. He started unhooking her reins.
“What are you doing?” Ajbante sounded scared.
“Proving to you that she can be tamed.” He led the resistant mare out of the stall into the meadow as the other stable boys froze at his sight. “And that you are safe with me, always.” Ajbante’s eyes widened at his words as he put on the seat and mounted Bijli. “I did not mean…” She protested. The last thing she wanted to do was anger or insult Kunwar Partap, the heir to the throne. She watched as Bijli resisted, tried to throw him off by putting her front feet up in the air, neighed and ran in circles. She watched as he held on tightly to her reign, almost like a challenge, as his eyes sparkled and he refused to give up. Soon, the entire stable was standing witness to the moment that Kika miraculously made Bijli listen to his orders and made her stop and gallop at the speed he desired. Everyone applauded his bravery as she stood flabbergasted. He dismounted the horse, leading it in as he wiped drops of perspiration from his forehead and eyed her as she looked away, embarrassed.
“I am who I am, you know that, Rajkumarisa. Yet you thought I would jeopardise your safety for my ego?” His words made her look pale as he shook his head, disappointedly, and walked over to the stables. Ajbante Kanwar knew she needed to apologise.
Kunwar Partap felt irked throughout the day. He did his chores, accepted the praises heaped on him from all quarters as the news of his morning feat reached all and sundry and accepted Rao Ji’s blessing of a gold coin in the inner Durbar to keep up with the believable act. He tucked the gold coin in his waist, his eyes hovering at the jharokhas over the Durbar, as he was aware of Hansa Bai and the other women there. Yet, he knew she was not. Did he go too far and offend her? Learning things was supposed to be her choice. He could not just force something on a subject just because he was the Prince and commanded authority. Maybe she was offended after all. She seemed too soft for such things. What made him even think she would… As Kunwar Partap approached the dimly lit hut expecting his mother to be waiting for him, he heard some chatter. His hand immediately reached for the dagger hidden in his waistband as he spotted horses and soldiers. Then he heard faint laughter inside the hut. And spotted a palanquin. Expecting Hansa Bai there, he walked in and was surprised by his mother sitting on the floor mat with Rajkumari Ajbante Kanwar, sharing a soft laugh. Jivanta Bai stopped at his sight as Ajbante looked away, alarmed as she tucked the Dupatta over her head, extending it as it had slipped slightly from over her head. Kunwar Partap was at a loss for words at the sight and cleared his throat to hide his surprise. “I…”
“Look what the Rajkumarisa brought, Kika, thank her.” Jivanta Bai gestured at the pot of freshly made kheer she had kept on the mat. “It's his favourite.” She smiled at Ajbante, who nodded coyly.
“I… must leave now. It's late, and Daata would want to see me at dinner.” Rajkumari Ajbante Kanwar stood up, making Kunwar Partap’s gaze follow her.
“Oh, if I had known you were coming with this, I would have prepared some dinner to offer you.” Jivanta Bai regretted it.
“That is fine, Ranima.” Ajbante shook her head. Kunwar Partap frowned as he stepped forward.
“Why is she calling you that?” He sounded displeased as Ajbante’s eyes widened at his intimidating tone.
“I told her to. Am I not like a mother to her?” Jivanta Bai smiled. “Don’t be jealous, Kika.”
“I am not. I just asked…” He tried hard not to show displeasure on his face.
“I don’t mean to offend.” Ajbante interrupted softly. “I would not if…”
“Oh, you will. I command you.” Jivanta Bai shook her head. “Stop scaring her, Kika.”
“ When did I…” Kunwar Partap shook his head.
“You scare people without realising you do, right, Ajbante?” Jivanta asked. To his horror, Kunwar Partap watched the princess nod in agreement. He inhaled as she touched his mother’s feet and asked for leave. Jivanta Bai insisted she should come to dinner the next day. She was about to agree when Kunwar Partap interrupted, “Oh, but she can’t unless her mother permits her and thinks it's safe.” Ajbante’s heart skipped a beat as Jivanta looked unfazed.
“Fair enough, ask your mother.” She said as Ajbante protested softly, reassuring her she would come. As she was about to step out of the hut, Kunwar Partap stepped aside, making room for her. Ajbante Kanwar stopped at the threshold, eyeing Jivanta, who had gone to the corner kitchen area to place the Kheer down. She lowered her voice as she eyed him, looking away.
“I will see you in the morning for my lessons.” Kunwar Partap looked up at her words as she walked out, her demeanour changing from soft and timid to authoritative as she instructed the troops following her that they were going home after meeting the Vaid Ji once, since she heard he was sick. One of the soldiers reminded her that it was late, and she, in turn, firmly yet in a low voice, reminded him that she did not take orders from him. Kunwar Partap stood at the threshold, watching the procession leave as he smiled to himself. He did not assess her wrong. Some people are hard outside and soft inside, but she was the opposite. She looked timid, graceful, often aware of her environment, and afraid of her actions. But inside that layer of consciousness was a woman who could be fearless, assert authority, yet be compassionate and know what she wanted. He admired that in a girl her age.
Ajbante Kanwar could not sleep that night. She twisted and turned in her soft bed, almost careful not to alarm the guards and maids as she stepped out on the jharokha and eyed the sand clock. She inhaled the fresh air that played with her hair and checked the practice attire the maids had made ready for her lessons. She remembered how much her mother scolded her in the morning for not wearing any heirloom or jewellery when she went to distribute sweets. “There is a reason we are separate from them, Ajbante. You are making a wrong impression of our upbringing as the queen and the prince. You don’t know the consequences of such mistakes. If such news reaches the king and he feels your father is not enough, it would mean your brothers would not get to rule Bijoliya later.” The words impacted Ajbante. Enough to go out of her way, make the kheer and approach the queen behind her mother’s back. She was scared of the idea of meeting the queen consort she had heard so much about. Yet when she met Jivanta Bai, touched her feet and let her know who she was, she was greeted with a hug. Jivanta Bai spoke of her childhood, and Ajbante found the queen very motherlike, very human. What surprised her more was how easily she transitioned from calling her Ranisa to Ranima without inhibition.
“Kika mentions you often.” Jivanta smiled, making her ears feel warm as a rush of embarrassment embraced her being. Did he tell her about being offended, too? Ajbante looked unsure as Jivanta smiled, reassuring her that he spoke of good things. Before Ajbante could gather her thoughts and calm her heart racing at the prospect of learning horse riding on her beloved Bijli from the heir apparent of Mewar, she heard the birds chirping. Ajbante had hurried through her chores and made her way to the stable, in a white warrior attire, a cloth holding her hair back, and a dagger tucked at her waist, when she stopped, alarmed at the sight of an unfamiliar soldier talking to Kunwar Partap. He looked troubled as his eyes fell on Ajbante, who had stopped in her tracks, and he dismissed the soldier to walk up to her.
“I need to talk to Raoji.” He looked bothered as she nodded, “What’s wrong?”
“Sher Shah is dead. And he had not declared an heir…” Kunwar Partap was unsure how well-versed she was in politics. “It means…”
“It means his generals would fight for the throne, and it is a golden opportunity to attack Shams Khan.” He stared at her, visibly impressed as she lowered her gaze. “I know he took over half of Chittorgarh as part of a treaty.” She straightened herself and eyed the sky. “Come with me, I know where to find Daata.”
Kunwar Partap followed her, maintaining a distance to avoid suspicion as she entered the royal temple premises. She walked up to her father, folded her hand in front of the Blue-Necked God briefly before briefing him. Rao Ramrakh Punwar was in a simple white Dhoti and Angrakha as he immediately stepped out of the temple and came to greet Kunwar Partap.
“What are your orders, Hukum?”
“Daata Hukum ordered that Ranima, along with some of his queens, would perhaps be safer here. Along with some of the princes and princesses.”
“Yes, of course, you are all welcome to Bijoliya. I would protect your family with my life.”
“Father doesn’t doubt that, Raoji.” He looked away. “I must go.”
“Go? Kunwarsa, I thought Ranaji…” Rao Ramrakh shared a confused glance with his daughter.
“He wants me in Chittorgarh as the Senapati.” Ajbante could read the look on Rao Ramrakh Punwar’s face. He was not convinced that the prince was ready. He was sure it was going to be a deadly mission. She tried to pacify her fear.
“I will go get Ranima to the palace, and prepare for everyone to arrive.” She spoke as both men nodded at her.
She walked away, arranging for a palanquin to bring Jivanta Bai to the palace while her mother prepared for the queens in the Ranimahal. She was greeted by Jivanta Bai, to whom she briefed on what she was there for. She did not seem surprised at Ranaji’s decision to make Kunwar Partap the Senapati. Ajbante could not help but ask the question she needed to as they shared a palanquin back to the palace.
“Is he ready?” She stopped at Jivanta Bai’s stare. “ I mean… Daata said he was still training…”
“My father says when the enemy is at the door, your people are at stake, your blood is royal, you are born ready. If you think you aren’t, then this is not for you.”
“Don’t you feel scared?” Ajbante asked. “I mean, we all put up brave faces, but when Daata leaves for war… I … we….” She was unsure if she was offending the queen. Jivanta smiled. “Of course, I am scared. I am human. I am a mother. I would be scared for my only child. That doesn’t mean I keep him from his responsibilities. I am also a queen to my people.” Ajbante stared at her admiringly. “I wish I were as brave as you, Ranima.” She made Jivanta pat her head. “You will be, if it's needed in the future.” She reassured her. Ajbante nodded, lost in the thought of how her mother often talked of marriage alliances. She would be of marriageable age soon, and they would start looking. Perhaps a chieftain’s family, like theirs, the same circle of wars and administration would follow. She eyed Jivanta Bai and wondered. She always thought that being the first wife was reassuring in their culture. Watching the queen of Mewar, she was not sure anymore.
Ajbante had settled the queen in a guest chamber and walked out once again to find Kunwar Partap and inform him. She watched him leave the Durbar after a meeting with the administrative heads, who were shocked at his revealing his true identity. She was unsure of whether she should approach or talk to him. So instead, she went to the temples to pray. Her father would follow the prince to the war at Chittorgarh. He needed to be safe. Kunwar Partap needed to be safe. If it was a trap that was set to make him fail, he must not. Ajbante was interrupted by the sound of footsteps as she turned to find him on the premises.
“I…” He looked troubled. “Was looking for you.”
“Don’t worry, Kunwarsa.” She smiled faintly. “I have settled Ranima, and I will take care of all her needs.” She reassured him as he smiled.
“No. I… wanted to apologise that I could not teach you…” He shook his head. Ajbante Kanwar smiled faintly. “You have a country to protect; my lessons can wait.”
“I promise the next time we meet…” He stopped at his words as she smiled at him. He knew his father’s summons would be a truce between his parents, and as soon as the war was over, he would be back home among his siblings. He wanted that for so long. Ranima would not suffer anymore. But then, why was the idea of not returning to Bijoliya bothering him? She seemed to read his mind as she smiled.
“May you not return soon under such circumstances.” She was quick to add. “The next time you need to come by, Bijoliya should be able to give you the welcome you deserve.” He smiled at her words. Since morning, ever since his father’s orders arrived, he had seen unsure glances on his capabilities from everyone around him. Nobody dared to speak of it, but he knew what they were thinking. For the first time, someone had faith in his abilities besides his Ranima. It was a welcome change for the prince.
He nodded as he was about to take her leave. At the threshold of the temple, he glanced back to see her resuming her prayers. That image of the princess of Bijoliya was etched in his mind’s eye till the next time he saw her.
