Page 139 of The Burning Mountain
The main palace of Rajgarh was a vision in white while this was its darker, more somber cousin, made of gray-colored stone. And yet, it somehow managed to be cozier and welcoming with thick carpets, shawls draped over wooden upholstered benches, and cozy fireplaces.
“Where are the servants? There must be people maintaining this place,” she asked.
“I gave them this evening off,” he said, walking ahead of her and indicating she should follow him.
Taking in her surroundings, she walked hesitantly, up a massive flight of stairs, discovering that the entire upper floor was one big circular hall. The floor was a smooth stone, but the walls were hidden in the shadows. There was so much to see downstairs, but her husband hardly gave her the time to inspect anything.
“This way,” he said, striding purposefully across the circular hall, and soon disappeared from sight. She followed more slowly and found him eventually, standing at one end of the room, feet planted apart, his hands clasped behind his back.
She went toward him with a mix of trepidation and curiosity.
“I need you to stay where you are until I finish,” he said, and his voice boomed through the hall, loud and harsh.
She stopped, surprised.
“Because I doubt I can say what I want to, if you’re any closer,” he explained, softening his tone.
Chandra had thought he seemed remote and unaffected but now realized it was a thin veneer.
Veer took a deep breath and continued. “I want to apologize. For everything. What happened after our marriage is my fault for failing to recognize what Virat had become. And I compounded it by taking you with me on this quest and not believing you when you told me the truth. You suffered tortureat the hands of people, some of them my own relatives, and I couldn’t protect you.”
“What are you?—”
“Let me finish, Chandra,” he interrupted and took another deep breath before continuing. “I’m a selfish man. I didn’t spare any thought to your wants or desires. At no point did I ever ask you if this marriage is what you wanted. I’ve hurt you time and again with my words and actions.”
He looked like someone who was suffering, his mask of indifference, gradually slipping away.
“You said you loved me, and I didn’t reciprocate until the end—because I didn’t feel like I deserved it. And then you died to save me, and I felt like my own life had ended.
“Even with the goddess giving you another opportunity, I can’t help but feel too guilty and unworthy to request your presence by my side.”
“Is this why you keep your distance? Why it’s been several weeks since my husband has properly talked to me?” Her ire increased as she reached the end of the sentence, and she realized she was shouting at him.
Veer ducked his head. “I knew you were doing well. I was in constant communication with your brother.”
Surprise temporarily cooled her temper. “Why didn’t my brother mention that?”
“I told him not to.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I thought my absence would make you miss me,” he admitted sheepishly.
Chandra rolled her eyes, her anger fading as fast as it had come as things started to make sense.
Veer continued. “I’m not an easy man, Chandra. Sometimes I’m devious. Often, I can be violent. My morals are shadowed.Especially when others have hurt what I consider mine. I’m not like you. I’ll make mistakes, but I swear I’ll make it up to you.”
“What exactly do you want from me, Veer? I’m a little confused here.”
“Let me show you instead.” Veer clapped his hands once. The braziers set every few feet across suddenly blazed with light, illuminating the wall behind them.
And the sculptures carved into them. Chandra gasped, moving past him to inspect them closer.
“These are the bas-reliefs from the caves of Amaravathi. I thought they were destroyed. How did you get them here?”
“Shota mostly. With help from Billadev. He was able to record all the cave muralsbeforewe destroyed them. I got artisans from Amaravathi to recreate these. Paid them a king’s ransom to get them up here.”
“A month or two is not nearly long enough to do all this. How long were you planning these?” she asked, puzzled, running her hands over them. This was Amarendra’s statue with its mark on the forehead that Billadev had shattered with his pickax.
