Unlike her mistress, Indu's heart was surprisingly easy to melt. Give her some food and attention and she'll pledge her eternal loyalty.
Indu's head was quite soft. Inka didn't mind petting her. She was certain that it counted as therapy for her poor fingers, especially when she lightly took one of Indu's soft ears and rubbed it. Another fun activity that also strengthened her fingers was simply playing with Indu, usually with toys. Indu could still beat her at a tug of war game, though. But then again, Inka wanted to be gentle with the puppy.
A little bed with cushions had been placed in a small room that had previously been empty. That was where Indu slept, and she often did so on her back, her legs at strange angles. She snored when the air was thick, and sometimes her tongue hung out. Her diet was very fine, well cooked and chopped meats with small amounts of pureed vegetables, typically the green leafy kinds. No oils, no herbs, and no spices. On some hot days, Indu was given carefully prepared pieces of cantaloupe. The seeds and skin were considered to be dangerous to dogs, and so, she wasn't allowed to have any of that.
Whenever Nitishila visited, he often brought some silly gift that Inka ignored, and Inka would always ignore him too. Nitishila would play around with Indu, laughing and talking as if he wasn't a heartbroken man. Then he'd leave. Whenever the Emperor or Empress Consort, or even the Dowager visited, their eyes would melt and shimmer, and they'd give Indu their attention. Although, the Dowager preferred to have Indu sit in her lap instead of roughhousing. "I might purchase a little dog for myself," she once told Inka. "Its warm body could relieve my arthritis."
One day, Inka happened to want to look in a closet for some random thing, and a maid opened it for her. Inside, she found stacks and stacks of boxes. "Where did all of these boxes come from?" Inka quietly asked.
The maid answered, "Your honorable husband has brought many gifts, and they've all been kept here."
Just then, Inka heard Indu's paws rapidly tap on the floor outside the room, down a hallway. Then there was the heavier steps of Anit the trainer. "Come back here, you stubborn little beast!"
Even the best trainers had their off days.
Time was rolling along. Life was moving with it.
But Inka still didn't have room in her heart for forgiveness.
The Empress Consort visited Inka later that afternoon. She'd brought a scroll of old poetry and said, "I found this yesterday. Why don't you recite the poetry while your cook prepares some snacks for us?"
Inka gave an honest effort, but the vintage calligraphy was difficult for her foreign brain to unlock. She had to ask her mother-in-law to translate some of the words.
"Oh, never mind," the Empress said as she rolled the scroll back into a closed state. "I should have realized you'd have difficulties. I hope you'll forgive me."
Dey arrived with the tray of snacks then.
Some bites later, the Empress said, "I imagine you've heard that Nitishila's been named the successor."
Barely nodding, Inka said, "I've heard, Your Majesty."
"There will be a grand celebration, a banquet with many elite guests."
"I'd expect nothing less." Inka was able to pick up a cup that was halfway full of water without shaking it. That was quite the accomplishment.
The Empress sighed and reached up to pat her updo. The wavy, dark brown hair was set in swirling braids and buns above her ears and on the top of her head. Silver and gold insects, dragonflies and bees, were pinned all about. One of her fingernails nudged a bee ornament as she said, "That rotten child won't be permitted a seat at the banquet, but you won't be permitted the right to refuse your seat."
Not even an eyelash flickered when Inka responded, "I don't want to embarrass my family with my appearance."
"It would be worse if you didn't claim your seat." The Empress reached for one of the bits of food. "You have a fine reputation, and if you aren't seen at the banquet, then the elites will ask very troublesome questions."
"Could I have my seat moved to a location opposite my husband?" Inka dared to ask.
"Absolutely not." The Empress' tone was almost strict, but she still had a gentle expression.
Maybe half an hour later, the Empress Consort left Inka's apartment, but Inka could still hear that woman's words echoing in her head.
She was barely settled in her gazebo when Dey hurried to her and said, "Prince Nitishila is requesting a visit."
"That's fine. Let him come." Inka turned to watch little Indu. The puppy was sniffing around some plants under the careful eye of a maid. For some reason, Inka decided she didn't enjoy the sight of the innocent little creature, and she told the maid to take Indu to a different section of the apartment.
"Oh, Mistress," Jorun said as she leaned in towards Inka, "won't you let the puppy stay?"
Inka looked away and stayed quiet.
Indu growled as she was carried off, but she didn't bite. Nitishila arrived soon afterward with Mamun close by, as he usually was.
And as expected, he had a gift, another beautiful lacquered case with something inside.
"Good afternoon, Inka." Nitishila took a seat close to her. His face was tense and cautious. "Are you feeling well?"
Inka stood up, took the farthest seat from him, and said to Jorun, "My fingers ache."
"I'll tend to you, Your Highness." Jorun went to Inka's side and took one of her hands. She immediately started a light massage.
Nitishila's nostrils flared, and he groaned, but he seemed to force himself to soften. He even smiled. "Mamun."
"Yes, Master." Mamun's chin rose.
"Present the gift to my wife."
Inka's face turned and her nose rose as Mamun approached and opened the case. She didn't care what was inside.
"Mistress?" Jorun tapped her shoulder. "It's a stone placard."
What?
For once, Inka looked.
Resting on silk, there was a decently sized tablet of polished gray stone. Words were vertically carved into it.
"On this month (then the month is question was numbered), on this day (the day's number was there too), on this year (yes, the year was also written out), Prince Nitishila Patelrao gravely wronged his wife, Princess Consort Inka Patelrao. After seeing deficient, hatefully planted evidence against his wife, he had her imprisoned and tortured for scheming against the empire. Princess Lataa was later found to be the true culprit, but Princess Inka has still suffered physically and emotionally."
"What intended function does this placard have?" Inka asked very softly, so soft that she imagined most couldn't hear her.
Nitishila told her, "The more correct question would be, what functions do these placards have?"
Her neck practically snapped as she looked up at him. His eyes were more focused than before. "These?" she said.
Nitishila nodded and gripped one of his knees. "What you have there is a copy. I've had several made. One's sitting outside my apartment's main entrance. As for the rest, I've had them sent out to all the apartments in this palace, various important government buildings in the public, the homes of the highest aristocrats, and even to large inns in the capital. I've ordered for each placard to be displayed at each entrance."
Inka was the one who sought out a stabilizing contact. She held Jorun's hands tightly as she stared back down at the placard in the box.
Somewhere, a bird chirped.
A little wind blew by.
