Chapter 11

Marybarton

@Marybarton

Part 10:

Still in the interview...

Aryan forced some lightness into his tone: Haha, that's just Imlie's sense of humor. I gave her a family ring, my great-grandmother's engagement ring.

Imlie's smirk faltered. She wanted to see how Aryan would wiggle out of her used anklet comment, but she did not know the ring was from the family. It looked so pristine and new that it didn't even occur to her that it might have sentimental value to him. He didn't just have an assistant pick it from a store? God, this man always had to get her when she least expected it.

Journalist 3 reached toward Imlie: May I, Miss Imlie?

Imlie extended her hand quietly.

Journalist 3: Ah, the famous art deco of the 1930's. It's incredible how modern the emerald cut still looks, it hasn't aged a day since its making.

Aryan smiled fondly: It is timeless, like Rani Damini. I had the good fortune of knowing her when she was in her final years. Her eyes still sparkled like that ring.

They clicked some furious pictures of Imlie's hand. Imlie blinked numerous times and tried hard not to look too much like she had a catch in her throat - which she did.

Journalist 2: What made you pick this piece, Kunwarsa?

Aryan sighed: Ah, my great-grandmother was quite spirited, you know, quite the personality. I felt she would like Imlie. They have a lot in common.

Journalist 1: You seem surprised, Miss Imlie.

Imlie bit her lip unconsciously: I...I don't know much about this great-grandmother...I am sorry to say.

Aryan quietly observed her.

Journalist 3, enthusiastically: Oh maam, you must read about her when you can. There are a few biographies out on Rani Damini. She was an amazing woman. She worked at Bletchley Park, during World War II against the Germans when Raja Saheb was serving in the British Indian Army. What a huge compliment to be wearing her ring! Kunwarsa gives you high praise. What a lovely story engagement story.

Imlie blushed, a bit embarrassed now at having tried to torpedo their interview out of petty annoyance.

Journalist 1: Could we just have a few pictures of you two before we finish, Kunwarsa and Miss Imlie? We need them for our publications.

Aryan and Imlie agreed. After 5 minutes of some serious camera clicks that left both Imlie and Aryan blinking to get the flashes out of their eyes, the journalists thanked them and wished them before leaving.

Aryan's neck snapped back on to her as the terrace doors closed: I can't believe you! What were you trying to do there? Bomb the interview? We were being filmed!

Imlie's recent softening went out the window with his tone: I can't believe you! Telling me all this five minutes before the interview! How was I to process all that? You made me look unprepared.

Aryan, incredulous: Unprepared!? YOU!? It looked like you were on your best game putting me on the spot!

Imlie shrugged and observed her nail polish: That part comes naturally to me. You are easy to rile up.

Aryan counted to ten and took a deep breath: You are so infuriating...you know what they will write about us now, Imlie?

Imlie, guiltily: It was just a 10 minute interview, how much could they have gotten?

Aryan got up and paced the terrace: A LOT. They are gossip columnists. And why are you reacting this way? Usually I don't tell anyone in case it affects their view of me too positively, they get all praja-y around me which is irritating. But you, you are the only woman I have ever met that's actually turned off by this whole royal tag. It's as if you found out I had a contagious disease or something! Women love my status! Why are you so weird, Imlie!?

Imlie: What women?

Aryan looked this way and that, a little taken aback by how she zeroed in on that bit: It was just a figure of speech.

Imlie's eyes narrowed: What women? Are you hiding anything else? Tell me now.

Aryan walked up to her: Don't turn this on me! I have nothing to hide. You have been in this same house with me these past three years, you know there isn't anyone else.

Imlie, peevishly: You sure you don't have a princess hiding in the attic or something?

Aryan, annoyed: This house does not have an attic. I am not Mr. Rochester and you are no Jane Eyre. Now let's go downstairs, if you still intend to get married. Mahurat ka time ho raha hai (it's almost the auspicious time).

Imlie: Help me up, I am shrinking under all this weight.

Aryan grinned, looking at Imlie glittering under the evening sun in the whole bridal look: You look like a Christmas ornament (he started laughing). Maybe it was all a bit much.

As she got up, Imlie smacked him on the arm. Amma walked in as if on cue.

Amma: Imlie!!! Apologize to Aryan Babu at once!

Aryan just started laughing louder and said only to Imlie: Busted.

Imlie: I am not going to!

Amma looked Imlie up and down now. Shocked at the transformation.

Amma: He decks you up to make you feel special on your big day and you treat him like this!

Imlie, chastised: He called me a Christmas ornament!

Amma: So what? What's wrong with calling you that? You are sparkling like one.

Imlie stomped her foot in frustration: Don't side with him, Amma! You don't know what he did.

Amma: I don't want to, we don't have the time. Come down stairs, both of you. Panditji is waiting. It's nearly time.

Imlie followed Amma down the stairs and glared behind at Aryan: You are telling her, not me.

Aryan: I bet she will take it better than you did.

Imlie: We will see.

At the mandap on the lawn, they sat together in front of hundreds of guests...

Imlie whispered feverishly: Why can't we sit on the ground like normal human beings?

Aryan, calm: Because.

Imlie: No royal is above anyone in the eyes of god. Why these ridiculous chairs?

Aryan: Fine. You want to flout tradition? You tell Rajasa that. My 80-year-old uncle is sitting right there by Ma and Didi.

Imlie sighed: You know, I won't do that. We haven't even been introduced yet.

Aryan, in faux innocence: Really? You won't? This from the girl who was torpedoing the Vogue interview five minutes ago?

Imlie gritted her teeth and sighed: Anything else I should know about this royal thing before the wedding? Any expectations?

Aryan tugged at his sherwani collar to get comfortable: Not that I recall.

Imlie: No rules or that kind of thing?

Aryan sighed: Imlie, it's a bygone era. No one cares about this stuff anymore. The family just participates in the hotel chain, that's as far as it goes. My uncle has some ceremonial duties that we go to on the rare occasion. Nothing came up in the last three years as you know. It doesn't play a huge role in our lives.

Imlie: Fine. But you are explaining all this to my parents.

Aryan: I am sure they will be less prejudiced than you.

Imlie: Ha!

Aryan grew somber: Don't tell me...your Daddah hates royalty like all other institutions.

Imlie arched an eyebrow and smirked: I can't wait to watch you have that conversation with him.

Pandit: We will start now, Kunwarsa.

Aryan got serious and nodded towards his family.

Amma, Daddah, Didi, and Ma came over with big smiles on their faces.

Pandit: In this auspicious day and time, we have gathered here to celebrate the wedding of His Royal Highness, Kunwar Aryan Singh Rathore of Mewar and Imlie Sattyakam from Pakdandiya...

Imlie looked at Amma and Daddah's frozen faces, their eyes wide with surprise.

Imlie elbowed Aryan: Good luck explaining!

Aryan: Got you to the altar, main battle won.

Didi who was standing behind them: Stop talking, both of you! Paditji is doing the matra (prayers).

Imlie and Aryan followed the directions without another argument.

Didi tied their gathbanthan (knot) and the pheres were taken. The rituals continued after. Imlie thought she saw Aryan wipe a tear at some point, but he said his nose was just itching. She tried her best to ignore her feelings of deja vu and stay in the present.

Pandit: I solemnly confirm, the wedding of HRH Kunwar Aryan Singh Rathore of Mewar and HRH Kunwari Imlie Singh Rathore of Mewar is realized. Congratulations to the happy couple.

The skies lit up in fireworks. Imle and Aryan were showered with flowers and cheers.

After the ceremony...

Rupi Didi came and gave Imlie a tight hug: I am so happy for you, Imlie. All our love to you on this special day. I hope you see nothing but happiness from this day on... I still can't believe I didn't put two and two together. Kunwar Aryan Singh Rathore and Aryan Singh Rathore are the same person! Of course...

Imlie hugged her back: Thank you for coming, Rupi Didi. Thank you for being a sister to me.

Rupi Didi: I will always be here for you.

Aryan came up: I need to introduce you to my uncle.

Imlie excused herself from Rupi Didi and joined Aryan to go meet the Raja of Mewar.

Imlie: Should I bow or something?

Aryan scoffed: Why don't you do a dance for him?

Imlie: I was just asking! I don't know these things. I never met a royal in my life!

Aryan arched an eyebrow.

Imlie: I never met one...knowingly.

Aryan: Well, just don't do anything too outlandish and you will be fine.

Imlie took a deep breath and nodded.

The Raja of Mewar was a jolly old uncle and there was really nothing to worry about, Imlie realized five minutes later.

Raja Shivraj: I am very pleased to meet you, very pleased indeed, Imlie. Finally someone to carry the family forward. (He guffawed at Imlie's quizzical look) I don't have kids, my dear, so I am afraid my hopes are all tied to you. It's on you and this chap now!

Ma: Bhaisa! Imlie just learn that Aryan is prince. Don't embarrass.

Raja Shivraj: Oh, come off it. Of course she will understand, won't you dear? Aryan here is the heir of course, as my younger brother's son because I have no children. So! You get to carry the family forward to the next generation! What an honor!

Imlie glared at Aryan who suddenly got busy and remembered he had to get a drink.

Imlie came up to him at the bar: No expectations, huh?

Aryan, guiltily: I didn't remember.

Imlie bit out: You conveniently forgot that you are not some measly prince of a big royal family?

Aryan: It's not something I dwell on a lot. I plan to live my life just as I have these past several years. Don't overthink it and it won't bother you either. We won't let any of it keep us from living a normal, good life.

Imlie: Haan (yes), you can say that. You are not the one who has to birth babies!

Aryan raised his index finger: Princes or Princesses.

Imlie: That's not the point, Smugface!

Aryan:Toh, weren't you planning to have any under normal circumstances?

Imlie: I don't know!

Leave your comments below...

Index (thanks to SundariP)

Part 1

https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/159734452

Part 2

https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/159745711

Part 3