Coming of Age ( Part 4 )

Kush wanted to act all mysterious about what really happened that day. It was totally unlike his character which would go on bragging about every little thing that happens to him. Vajra burst out laughing when he finally knew what he witnessed. It was so obvious Bhargava fell asleep while waiting for the war to begin. Ashangi personally wouldn't take action otherwise. She was a very powerful woman, yes, but it was not in her nature to do this. In this picture, she appeared like a terrifying Kali that would suck souls away with just one look. Also, holding that severed head in one hand, letting that drop of blood from the sword drop on her tongue, it would give anyone the shivers. One can only imagine how angry she was to do all that. And she also purposefully stepped on Bhargava with all that destructive momentum. Clearly, she was not pleased at all. Vajra burst out laughing. In his mind, he can almost see Kush's face twisting when he saw his newly appointed father and mother bicker and fight in the middle of a war!

As he was still snickering, a lovely, mellow voice resonated in the empty and spacious bath.

"Your Majesty finds so much pleasure looking at dirty drawings, I see."

With a start, Vajra looked up and covered the dirty part. For some reason, the artists found it sincere to frame all paintings related to Manas with depictions of dancing girls or worse, direct sexual activity. It was convention that even that last divine artist didn't forget to follow.

Vajra forgot that despite all five princesses collectively disliking this bath, there was still one woman in the royal family who could use it. Jesta, the princess of the minor kingdom Malaya and widow of Vajradhaara. She had another identity currently, and that was what made Vajradandaka sweat uncomfortably.

"Sister-in-law, these are not dirty pictures. I—"

"We are to be married in a month. Your Majesty might as well call me by my name."

Vajra's heart thumped once. Blood rushed to his head and he immediately looked down, afraid to meet her eye. He could clearly hear the unhappiness in her voice. At that time, he was very weak and fragile. Dissatisfied by his failure, he believed that if his brother cannot succeed the throne, his brother's bloodline should. It was the only way he could have the last laugh after the ministers, priests and even the queen colluded and killed off his big brother! He fell on his sister-in-law's feet and declared that he wouldn't let go unless she agreed to marry him when he comes of age. Until that point, Jesta doted on him like he was her own son. She loved him more than Vajradhaara did. But ever since, she had become cold.

In Rtadhara widows were not allowed to remarry. But if the deceased's blood brother agrees to marry the widow, she may once again engage in marital relations. On the other hand, in royal families, if princesses from other states marry in, it was custom to let them return to their home families if they become widows. Also, in Malaya, widows were allowed to remarry, especially royals. In other words, by keeping her here, Vajradandaka robbed Jesta of the finest years of her youth. She was only twenty-two when his brother died! However, he couldn't let her go. The only way he could choose his nephew to be his successor was to marry his mother! The boy is already ten years old now. Vajra planned to rule for another ten years at most and then pass the throne to Narakesha. That was the only way he would reverse that failure from when he was ten years old and failed to save his brother. He was like a dog that wouldn't let go of a bone in that way. Vajra really hated to lose.

"Sister-in-law doesn't call me Little Cactus anymore as well," he said, hesitatingly glancing up at Jesta.

She was a tall and valiant looking Kshatriya woman. At twenty-seven, she was at the epitome of womanhood, with graceful curves jutting out of her gossamer dhoti, silky skin that was moistened with oils and a sculpted neck that supported her proud and beautiful chin. Jesta wasn't exquisitely beautiful like those dancing girls in Manas. But her intelligent brows and big, wide fish shaped eyes, her graceful movements and gentle arrogance made a man strive to match up to her rather than coquettishly try to covet or conquer. In simpler words, she made a man afraid of his own inadequacies. Only a man like his big brother could rightfully stand next to her. Only he could be at ease, knowing he was 'sufficient'.

Unfortunately, at ten years of age, Vajra did not have these many thoughts about men and women. He thought for a moment that the age difference would be too much, but soon disregarded that too. He never intended for Jesta to be his true wife. He just wanted her to be one in name, so that he could name Narakesha the Yuvaraja. He even argued that when the priests gave the child that name, they have already foreseen him to be the successor of Martanda. Narak means hell, and Narakesha means literally the Lord of Hell. Vajra was not lying to Kush back then. It was a known fact that the children of Martanda do not go to heaven. They go to hell instead, but unlike his own poor soul that gets lost in there somewhere, the children of Martanda become rulers of hell. This was the reason for the boy's name because he was the intended child of the first Martanda. Sometimes, the eight princesses even lovingly called him Little Hell. Vajra only thought it reasonable that the child's intended destination upon death should not change. He didn't stop to consider little things like how he would look beside a woman more than ten years older and extremely well put together. Looking at her grace and beauty now in the simple clothes she wore before she came to take a bath, he was a little discomposed. Terrified even. He just wanted to sink into the bath and not come out. But that would mean he intends to take a bath with her which was even more terrifying.

"Your Majesty is the lord of all people walking this Earth. How can this humble little woman call you by a childish nickname?"

King Vajradandaka grimaced. He made a little noise causing the servants around the corner to come out and hand him a towel. Thankfully, he still had some awareness and didn't strip completely coming here. With a little smile, he patted the head of his niece who came with her mother. Her name was Narakadeepa, the Light of Hell. She was Narakesha's twin sister and her nickname was Little Light. With round eyes, she was watching the interactions between her mother and her youngest uncle.

"Uncle Cactus, you didn't bring me that milk candy you promised!" she screeched as she suddenly remembered. "You're just a bad guy! No wonder mother wants to beat you."

"Alright, that's not the way you talk about your mother. Come, let's go out. I'll get you that candy," Vajradandaka rushed in and swooped her up.

"But I've come to take a bath now!" the little girl kicked her legs and protested.

"Really? Now?" Vajra didn't stop and kept moving towards the exit. "I hate to tell you princess, bath's no good. Uncle Cactus just farted in there."

"Eeewww!"

Hiding a smile, Vajra rushed out of the bath and into the splendid sun before he was even properly dressed.