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.
Inka ...
Her breath moved a little, nearly drawing her lower lip against her teeth, but she caught herself before she could make any noticeable movements.
Nitishila's clothing rustled and his jewelry twinkled as he rose. His slippers didn't hush his steps across the gazebo's wooden floor. He sat down beside Inka and gently pulled her hands away from Jorun. Taking the not very subtle hint well, Jorun separated from her mistress and moved a good distance away.
Hot ... rough ... Inka blinked and sighed at the nearly forgotten feeling of Nitishila's hands curled around hers.
She wanted to cry!
It was so damn difficult to keep her frigid mask in place.
"You ... your parents ... and the Dowager ... they won't approve."
Being near him was like being near a pit of hot charcoal, and he smelled almost as tantalizing as a chunk of seasoned meat cooking over a grill.
"I've secretly consulted the Empress Dowager," Nitishila said as his thumb stroked one of Inka's index fingers. "We had a short argument, but I was able to convince her. This is my repentance." He sighed as his fingers squeezed hers only a little bit harder. "I should've done this a long time ago. I truly am a fool."
"This action," Inka said, "it will damage your reputation. Even the commoners will know if your sin." Lataa's reputation would also be damaged, but nobody seemed to care about that.
"I'm aware, Inka, but at least I can hope that everyone will know I'm the one who ordered and distributed the placards. I'm confessing my crimes, and seeking forgiveness in the process."
This man was amazing.
Her brain was blank, and it was all because of him.
"Inka, let's have a private moment." He took her upper arm. It didn't hurt. "Please."
Her body yielded even though her mind couldn't even light a spark. Everything she saw was blurry and wet. She barely understood that she was walking, but she fully recognized Nitishila's flesh.
Only when his mouth was on hers, when his beard was scraping her skin, did Inka realize that she wasn't walking anymore. Then she realized she was in her bedroom.
Her hands went to his chest as she tugged her mouth away and gazed up at his fervent eyes. "How can you kiss me? I'm so ugly now."
"I won't dare to even say that word." He reached up to touch her cheek. Inka knew she was mostly healed, but there were some little scars here and there. "Now let's remove that scarf."
Inka shook her head, but she was unable to stop him from pinching the pins away and pulling her headscarf off. Her hair was still unfashionably short. It didn't even reach her ears.
But his fingers spread over her scalp, transferring his warmth, somehow making her shiver.
"Inka, how could I be displeased with you? I'm partially responsible for what happened to you." He bent down to kiss her brow. "What happened was tragic, and I can't erase it, but I can swear to never lie. I'll always admit what I did. Your scars are mine. They're evidence of my sins, not yours."
His arms snugly wrapped around her.
But Inka wasn't calmed. He still didn't understand, or that's what she thought.
"Nitishila! You ... you need to know ..."
