Chapter 13

Marybarton

@Marybarton

Part 12:

Captain Rajveer's voice was coming from above her head on the plane. Imlie looked up and saw the soundbox. He said they were ready for take off.

Oh...there it was, that strange rumbling below her...

Imlie grabbed both armrests and started praying in silence. But she still couldn't help but look out the small window next to her.

Aryan: Seatbelt.

Imlie wasn't paying attention, she sat too engrossed with the turmac outside.

Aryan: Fasten your seatbelt, Imlie.

Imlie jumped when Aryan was suddenly reaching into both sides of her seat.

Imlie: What are you doing?

Aryan: Didn't you hear him say "fasten your seatbelt"?

Imlie: Oh, I forgot.

Aryan dragged the two ends of the seatbelt out, but suddenly felt uncomfortable putting them together. He hadn't asked permission.

Aryan held them up, further away from her waist: Here, grab these ends and fasten them together.

Imlie grabbed the ends and kept struggling on the wrong ends.

Aryan: May I?

Imlie nodded.

Aryan snapped them together as far away from her as possible.

Aryan: Now pull that end to tighten it.

She did. He sat back and did his own.

Imlie giggled: Oh! It's cold!

Aryan: What is?

Imlie: This steel thingy.

He grunted acknowledgement.

Aryan was too hesitant to look. She was wearing a midriff baring lehenga. It was possibly against her skin.

Imlie was distracted again. She grabbed the armrest between them as the plane started taking flight. It was her first time on a flight. He knew this. She was trying to be very silent and brave about it.

He looked down at the colorful, mehendied hand on their shared armrest. So small. So graceful. Like a flower.

Imlie whispered to herself: Sita Maiyya...bacha lena (please save us).

Aryan thought of distracting her from the flight. He took her tiny hand in his and turned it over.

Aryan, seriously: I can look now, right? Even if my uncle did ruin it, this is our first night.

Imlie blushed and nodded. He said it just like that. A factual statement.

Aryan, studiously: Well then, let's find that name. What is it, just an initial or the whole word?

Imlie: I can't be giving you hints.

Aryan rolled his eyes and started looking closely with an index finger sliding over her hand as he went.

Imlie snatched her hand back: That tickles!

Aryan: Seriously, Imlie? Not now, I need to look.

Imlie: Look, but don't trace with your finger like that. It tickles.

Aryan couldn't help but smile a little: Fine.

After a while, he gave up on the left hand and took her right. He compared the two and started looking closely at her right hand.

Aryan, triumphantly: Here! I see it, A-R-Y-A-N.

He traced the words across the veins on her right wrist.

Imlie jumped: I told you not to do that!

Imlie looked over and saw the plane's sole airhostess' eyes widened as the woman sat facing their direction a little further off.

Imlie, in horror: Oh! She will think...

Aryan laughed as Imlie shoved him away: What!?

Imlie, in a loud whisper: Stay away from me!

Aryan, laughing: You are one weird girl, Imlie. So sensitive. Who would have thought?

Imlie: What's that supposed to mean?

Aryan: Just that you are very sensitive.

Imlie, defensively: I am not sensitive, I am just ticklish.

Aryan: Same thing. Look, we are above the clouds.

Imlie looked out in alarm: What!? When did that happen? Oh...how pretty it all looks from up here. Is that East Bihar?

Aryan: Yes. Every city looks like that at night though. You can't really tell the difference unless there is a landmark.

Imlie: Wow...

She was distracted looking out the window for the next few minutes.

Aryan: You want a blanket?

Imlie: No, I am fine.

Aryan: How about a drink?

Imlie: Okay.

Aryan requested a juice for her and the airhostess quickly brought it over in a beautiful crystal glass.

Airhostess: Hukum (Your Highness), your juice.

Aryan: Thank you, it's actually for Imlie.

She smiled, bowed, and left.

Imlie took a sip: It's all very surreal.

Aryan: What is?

Imlie: They call you, Hukum. How come no one ever called you that before?

Aryan softly: Because these people work for my uncle. It's a bit odd for me too. They seem to think I will actually replace him.

Imlie: And...will you?

Aryan: No way. The only reason I don't throw all this off is because it's my dad's legacy to me, not because I want anything from my uncle.

They got off the plane somewhere at the Mewar airport before dawn.

So much for suhaag raat (wedding night), Aryan thought morosely. Of course his uncle had to ruin his first night for him with this stupid trip. Aryan looked at Imlie sleeping soundly beside him. God, she was his wife now. His wife. His. Wife. How strange it all sounded.

Captain Rajveer came to greet them: Hope you enjoyed the flight, Hukum.

Aryan got up and thanked the Captain, the assistant pilot, and the airhostess for the uneventful flight. As irritated as he was with his uncle, these people were just doing their job as best as possible.

Airhostess: Hukum (Your Highness), there is a car coming here for you. It will take you both to the palace.

Aryan awakened Imlie and they got off on the tarmac.

Imlie yawned and wrapped her saree around her.

Aryan: I hope you are happy now, we are on a frigid tarmac waiting for our luggage to be moved in the middle of our wedding night in a tiny airport in Mewar. This is what you get for agreeing with Rajasa. Happy?

Imlie looked around, suddenly awakened by the night chill: I for one am really excited. This seems like an adventure.

Aryan looked aghast: Oh, is this how you wanted to spend the night?

Imlie: This is even better than I imagined.

Aryan, affronted: Take that back!

Imlie, innocently: What did I say?

Aryan: Standing here is better than...how could you say that?

Imlie, cluelessly: What are you on about?

The young chauffeur stepped out of the long black car that stopped right in front of Aryan and Imlie. He made a grand gesture of opening the passenger door and bowed.

Chauffeur: Kammagani Hukum, Malkin. Sagawat hai. Aayyyeee. (Greetings, Your Highness. Your ladyship. Welcome. Please come).

Imlie: Just call me Didi. What is your name?

The chauffeur looked taken aback: Ah...Eshsaan, Didisa.

Imlie smiled brightly despite her tiredness: Thank you for coming to pick us up, Eshsaan.

Aryan was touched and smiled as Imlie got in the car and looked out toward him.

Imlie: Come in, don't keep poor Eshshaan waiting.

Aryan: Thank you, Eshshaan.

They set off for the final destination.

Imlie remarked: How roomy this car is.

Aryan: It's vintage.

Imlie: Huh?

Aryan: It's from a long time ago.

Imlie: It looks like they certainly made better cars then.

Aryan, grumpily: Only for Rajasa's breed.

They arrived with great fanfare at the palace. There was a band playing and the whole of the staff waited outside to greet them.

Aryan tried hard to veil his annoyance. No sleep. Wedding night was ruined. And now there was a band playing folk music at 6 am in the morning.

Aryan, under his breath as they walked over: Great.

Imlie looked around and took in the biggest cream, frothy-looking, intricate building she had ever seen and tried not to look awestruck.

Imlie: How beautiful. This is your family home?

Aryan: It's a hotel owned and managed by Rajasa.

Imlie: It's still his home. Can you not be such a killjoy?

Aryan, surprised: You are enjoying this.

Imlie, archly: I thought I was the weird one who wasn't appreciating your royal status enough.

Aryan: I haven't had much sleep, Imlie, don't start.

The militaristic type old man bowed and ushered over a lady at the entrance.

Man: Khammagani Hukum (Greetings, Your Highness)! Rajasa informed us of your visit and we have been preparing all night.

Aryan: Right, I am sorry about that, Mister...?

Ganjam: Ganjam Singh, Hukum. I will be in charge of your security, while Hukum is here with his ladyship. And this is Khala. She is the housekeeper. She will do your arti.

Aryan: Mr. Singh, we don't want to inconvenience any of the staff. Please, can you ask them to stop the music?

Imlie pinched him. Aryan glared at her.

Ganjam clapped about his head and the music immediately stopped.

Ganjam: Aarti (welcoming prayer), Hukum? You must be tired after your journey, we will then show you to your room right away.

Khala was a sweet-looking old lady who welcomed them in after aarti and excused herself while muttering about old feet. She said she would see them after seeing to their food arrangements. Apparently, she had the kitchen staff prepare all of Aryan's old favorites.

Ganjam Singh led Aryan and Imlie inside to their suite and left saying he was just a ring away.

Aryan fell down on the bed: Oh God! I am wrecked.

Imlie came and sat down near him: Get some sleep, you didn't sleep a wink on the flight. I am going to go have a look around.

Aryan grabbed her hand: No, don't go! (At Imlie's startled expression he tried again) Freshen up and get some rest first. We will go out later.

Imlie: Fine. But you need to be nicer about the staff making such an effort for us.

Aryan shut his eyes: I was.

Imlie: Don't rain on their parade. Just be appreciative. They seem really excited to have you back here. When were you last here?

Aryan looked up: When I was five. I am starting to think you are better suited to this royal drama than I am.

Imlie smiled: I just want to appreciate the work of the staff who have their hopes set on you.

Aryan rubbed his temples: Well, they are about to be disappointed if they think I will carry this whole charade on.

Imlie: What will you do then?

Aryan: I don't know. Apparently I can't stop being saddled with it. Rajasa made sure of that, legally. But I don't intend to play this game.

Imlie: And what about their livelihood?

Aryan, softly: Imlie...

Imlie leaned over him, concerned: They don't look the age to start over. So what about them?

Aryan: They are his staff, I am sure there is a pension from this place.

Imlie smiled sadly: I see.

Aryan grabbed her hand and tugged her closer over him until her hands rested against his chest: Are you turning into a convert now?

Imlie: I just saw a very old family of staff who probably have been with Rajasa their whole life and are nervous about you. They want to make a good impression on you. If you don't show an interest, they will feel rejected. That's all.

Aryan: I will ensure them a pension, if it worries you that much. But I am not playing Rajasa to them any time in the future. I have a life back in Bihar...with you.

Imlie: You will always have me. No matter where you are.

Aryan: I don't need this old pile of rocks he wants to hand over to me. My father was better at business than Rajasa, he left us way better off. We don't have to come back here and look over farms and all this...drama.

Imlie lay her head softly against his chest: I am not telling you how to live your life. I just see people who look much like my villagers and I want to see them, hear their concerns...

Aryan's heart was racing. He hoped Imlie could not hear that frantic beating heart lying on top of him.

Not sure how I will continue with the romance yet. But there are some hints and suggestions throughout this part. Let me know your thoughts.

Index (thanks to SundariP)

Part 1

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

Part 2

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

Part 3

https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/159754967

Part 4

https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/159763228

Part 5