Page 94 of A King's Oath

“Here,” he showed her his right hand.

“I only eat dal-chawal with my hand.”

“Dahi-bhaat is also meant to be eaten with hand,” he reached into her plate and began to mix the curd and rice.

“You can cook now?” She asked, opening her mouth so naturally as he brought a morsel to her mouth. As if he was adept at feeding with his hand, he stuffed the bite into her mouth like a pro.

“I only boiled rice. Hira ben guided me with the water measurement.”

He made a morsel again and fed her. She shamelessly opened her mouth and he held her jaw, feeding the bite. It was perfect — hot rice, cold curd and tangy salt.

“How are you so good at this?”

“At what?”

“Feeding?”

Samarth’s serious, caretaker face softened. “I used to feed Sharan all the time.”

“Your brother? How old is he now? 10?”

“He is 9, and sometimes still comes to me to eat if he is sick,” Samarth stuffed another bite into her mouth.

“Who do you go to if you are sick?”

“I don’t fall sick.”

“Ever? That’s not true. You used to fall sick in school. Remember how we used to run to the dispensary and sleep the whole day there?”

“Talk about yourself,” he smiled, feeding her more morsels.

“Oh, my bad, you were the good boy who never disturbed a class by announcing that he needed to visit the dispensary.”

“You did plenty of that for me.”

“Uhh, excuse me, if my partner was silently groaning with a headache what was I to do?”

“Keep mum and let Ms. Veda teach,” he stuffed her open mouth with another morsel, effectively shutting her up.

“No way,” she shook her head, covering her mouth with one hand to chew the extra big morsel. That’s when she glanced down and realised that he had finished her plate and fed her half of his own too.

“Samarth!” She whined. “You are first of all eating this sick-people food because of me and that too you fed me!”

“This is not sick people food, this is comfort food,” he brought her another bite. She grabbed his wrist and forced it back to his mouth — “Yeah fine. I am done. Eat now.”

“Av…” his words cut off when she forced the morsel into his mouth. He chewed. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little.”

“I’ll make another batch of nimbu paani and pop it in your fridge.”

“Thanks.”

He finished the small portion left on his plate and got up to grab both their plates.

“Don’t you want more?”

“I had a snack at practise. I’m good,” he began cleaning the plates.

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