Rudhra’s Home
“Are you not going to the palace today, Rudhra?” Rudhra’s mother, Kousala, asked as she covered the plate of puttu and black chickpea curry.
“Not today. They asked me to take a day off,” Rudhra replied, lying on his bed, still groggy from sleep.
“Rest? Really?” Kousala said, unconvinced. “Why would you need rest?”
Rudhra paused, searching for a believable answer. “Actually… it’s for the Princess. Sabo thought it might be good for her training to take a day off.”
“Is that so?” his father, Bhuvan, said, emerging from the bathroom with a towel slung over his shoulder. “Didn’t you say you couldn’t beat her even once?” He smiled slyly.
“Thanks for the reminder, Dad,” Rudhra said, irritation creeping into his voice. “I don’t know the details. Sabo just asked me not to come today.”
“Well, if she said so, it’s fine,” Bhuvan replied casually, walking into the bedroom to change.
“Oh come on, Dad. Can’t you do this before I wake up?” Rudhra said, closing his eyes.
“You’ve been living with us for fifty years and you still feel uncomfortable?” Bhuvan chuckled as he pulled on his pants.
“Anyway,” he continued, studying his reflection and turning his head side to side, “the King announced that the apartments will be expanded soon. Two bedrooms for every family. Construction starts shortly.”
He patted Rudhra on the back. “Get up and freshen up. Don’t skip your training just because you’re resting.”
Bhuvan walked to the dining table and sat as Kousala brought two plates of food. Rudhra slid off the bed and dropped to the floor, beginning his push-ups.
The doorbell rang.
“Who could that be?” Bhuvan muttered, walking toward the door.
He opened it—and froze.
“Honey?” Kousala asked, turning around. “Who is it—”
The glass slipped from her hand and shattered.
Rudhra stopped mid-exercise and stood up. He stepped out of his room, his eyes widening.
Yodhika stood at the door, alone, dressed in a black combat suit.
“Princess! What are you doing here?” Bhuvan finally managed.
“I came to see Rudhra,” Yodhika said softly.
“Rudhra!” Kousala exclaimed, even though he was standing right there. “Did he do something wrong, Princess? Please forgive him. He’s a sore loser—”
“Mom!” Rudhra snapped.
He turned to Yodhika and steadied himself. “Please come in, Yodhika.”
Kousala rushed over and smacked Rudhra on the head. “What did you just call her, you idiot?”
“Mom, stop it.”
She immediately turned to Yodhika, flustered. “Please come in, Princess. The house is small—hope you won’t be uncomfortable.”
Yodhika stepped inside, her expression neutral.
“What would you like, Princess? Tea? Coffee?” Kousala rambled, dusting an already clean sofa. “Oh, what am I saying—you may not like what we make. Please, sit.”
Yodhika sat.
“Weren’t you taking today off, Princess?” Bhuvan asked.
Yodhika glanced at Rudhra. He nodded.
“Yes,” she replied.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Bhuvan continued, “why are you in a combat suit?”
“That’s what she always wears, Dad,” Rudhra said quickly.
“Oh, is that so?” Bhuvan said, impressed. “Such dedication.”
“So,” Rudhra asked, “why are you here, Princess?”
“I…” Yodhika hesitated. “I was in this area. I thought I would visit my sparring partner.”
Her tone was unfamiliar—uncertain.
“Oh, that’s very kind of you, Princess,” Kousala said with a broad smile.
Rudhra’s brows drew together.
“You have to open your shop now, right?” Yodhika asked.
“That’s all right,” Bhuvan said. “We’ll open a little late.”
“Please don’t mind me,” Yodhika said. “I’ll leave soon.”
Bhuvan and Kousala exchanged a look.
“All right, Princess. We’ll step out for a while. Please make yourself comfortable.”
Kousala cleared the table, gathering the plates and carrying them into the kitchen. She returned a moment later, picked up her bag, and caught hold of Bhuvan’s hand, tugging him toward the door.
As they passed Rudhra, she paused. Leaning in, she whispered with a stiff smile, “Don’t do anything stupid with the Princess. If you do, I’ll smack your head for the rest of your life.”. She let out a forced chuckle.
“Goodbye, Princess,” she said aloud, straightening herself.
With that, she stepped outside, pulling Bhuvan along with her. Bhuvan turned back once, smiled, and gave Rudhra a quick wink before the door closed behind them.
Rudhra and Yodhika stood in silence for several moments.
“Why are you really here, Princess?” Rudhra asked at last.
“Why didn’t you come for the fight today?” she asked in return.
“I… I needed some time to clear my head,” he said.
“Clear your head? For what?”
“To focus again.”
“Is it because of what happened yesterday?”
Rudhra looked down at the floor. “Princess, please. We need to forget all that and do what the King and Sabo told us.”
“You said—” She stopped herself.
“I said that in the heat of the moment,” he said quietly. “We must not have such feelings. I can’t. The Pranvar clan saved us, helped us rise. I won’t betray the King’s trust—or let you betray his faith in us.”
Yodhika met his eyes. “Then… will you at least shake my hand?” she asked nervously.
“Forgive me, Princess. I don’t think we should,” he said cautiously.
She fell silent.
Then she suddenly lunged.
Rudhra recoiled, leaping sideways. “Princess—what are you doing?”
Yodhika snapped her weapon rod open. With a sharp click, it unfolded into a trident. She thrust it forward.
Rudhra raised his arm instinctively. The center prong pierced straight through his hand.
He cried out but clenched his fist around the joint where the prongs met, stopping it. “Princess, stop! This is my house. Please—don’t destroy it.”
Yodhika froze, breathing heavily.
“Why are you behaving like this?” Rudhra asked through pain. “This isn’t like you.”
“BECAUSE I DON’T HEAR THE VOICES WHEN I TOUCH YOU!” she shouted.
Her shoulders slackened. She collapsed to the floor, sobbing.
Rudhra steadied his breathing and slowly pulled out his hand impaled on the prong of the dropped trident. He went to her and knelt beside her. “Voices? What voices?”
She didn’t answer, only cried harder.
“Princess, please, stop crying” he said softly.
He reached out and took her hand.
She stilled. Pressed his hand to her cheek.
Rudhra stiffened, discomfort flashing across his face—yet his heart began to race. The same strange wonder which he felt yesterday stirred within him. He forced himself back to clarity and gently pulled away, resting his hand on her shoulder.
“Please stand up, Princess. Let’s go to the roof. Some air will help.”
She shook her head. “No… I’m fine now. Could I have some water?” She said wiping the tears off her cheeks.
“Of course.”
He returned moments later with a glass. She drank slowly.
“What were the voices you mentioned?” Rudhra asked.
She hesitated. “It’s a voice all Pranvars hear from birth. A curse. We hear it until our last breath.”
Rudhra stared at her. “I’ve never heard of this. I don’t think any Amirthya even know about it.”
“It’s blasphemous for us to speak of it,” she said quietly. “Anyone who does is punished—brutally. Even a King.”
Rudhra’s face drained of color. “Then why tell me, Princess?”
She smiled faintly. “Because when I touch you… the voices stop. That is the only time I feel peace.”
Rudhra breathed deeply, steadying himself. “What do the voices say?”
Her expression darkened. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.”
He nodded. After a moment, he asked, “Can we go for a walk?” She looked at him and nodded. “Okay.”
(To be continued)
Karun G Nath 
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